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adventuringblind · 4 months

Text

Ma Belle

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Mafia AU, fluff

Summary: an arranged leads to a few struggles. The main one being that Max and Charles can only seem to summon their wife with her favorite movie.

Dialouge prompt: "It's okay baby, you're safe with us." "Yes we can watch the same movie for the millionth time, love."

Warnings: arranged marriage, daddy issues

Notes: part of my 1000 followers event. Requests are open again for regular asks btw (poly, lando, oscar, charles, Max, daniel, and logan for sure, and Liam and Carlos, depending on the request)👀

Masterlist

Being a bargaining chip had been her purpose. The only reason she was born. In the possibility some kind of treaty needed to be made, she would be there.

So she learned how to be perfect. How to look the part her father needed her to. Played the game that everyone in this line of work plays.

Regardless of if everything in her mind is screaming to back out and run away as they sign the papers. She's being married off to not just one man, but two men who she doesn't know. They know each other. They'd supposedly been in her situation and have been married for a while already. They look at her with Kindess. A Dutch named Max and a Monegasque names Charles. A sympathy maybe only They can share with her.

She closes herself off the second they are alone. She is nothing more then a possession. A piece on the board for if things go wrong. These two don't actually want her and they already have each other. Why is she even here? Because of some treaty?

She ignores them. Keeps her distance. Pretends they don't exist. All the while watching the same move over and over again when they aren't around to hear.

Beauty and the Beast is her comfort movie. The one consistent in her life apart violence and backwards politics. She's not sure where it came from, the love for this movie. Maybe it's the comfort she finds in knowing she's not the only one locked away for some underlying purpose.

Max and Charles, to their credit, attempt to make am effort while not scaring her further away. They offer food at her door when she doesn't want to come out. They make attempts to show her affection. They give her space when she needs and don't push for more them she is willing to give.

Max and Charles weren't supposed to be home until later. Out on 'buisness' which code for something probably illegal. Which means, she wraps herself up in a blanket and makes her way to the television. She puts on her comfort movie and promptly passes out after a having a sleepless night in her own bed.

When the two males return, they find her asleep with the movie long forgotten. They don't move her, but instead restart the film. They stay with her until she wakes.

The shock hits first and then something like bewilderment follows. She eats with them after that and even keeps up some light conversation.

They tell her that the situation isn't ideal, but they made the most of it and intend on doing the same with her. They comfort and hold. They keep her safe when she needs it. They spoil her when she lets them.

But most importantly, they watch the same movie with her over and over again.

On this particular occasion, she was coming home from a visit with her father. The man who basically abandoned her with unfamiliar men for the entirety of her life. It left her feeling drained and insecure. She had been prepared for this her entire life and somehow she wasn't treating Max and Charles like she knows a good wife should.

She collapses on the couch. She pays no attention to anything else and just sobs. You'd think she was injured. Maybe even dying. Though this certainly felt like death. The idea that Max and Charles will leave her one day, send her back to her father who will find some other way to use her. It makes her stomach churn.

The two males take in the scene before them. Charles hastily fumbles for the the remote and sets up the movie they've watched almost everyday for a month now. He it man enough to admit its grown on him and he has the lyrics of every song memorized and working on turning it into piano music. Max sets about getting the female upright. She goes unwilling and ends up with her head in Max's lap.

"liefde, what's got you in tears?" Max makes an attempt at drying her tears only for more to show up.

She hiccups a few times. "I'm not a good enough wife, but I'll do better I promise. Just, please, don't send me back."

Charles joins the on the couch and runs nimble fingers along her skin. "Did something happen with your father to make you think that?"

"He used to make me pretend to be a wife to some of the men who work for him." Her eyes get cloudy thinking back to the memories. Her childhood was not one she looks back at fondly. "I just want to be enough."

"Dry your tears." Max starts before she can spiral again. "It's okay, baby, you're safe here with us. You're trying your best, and we know this kind of situation isn't easy. Just let us show you we care, yes?"

She looks up to see the movie ready to be played. The soft music in the background instantly calms her. "You don't mind?"

"We can watch the same movie for the millionth time, amour." Charles laughs softly when he sees her smile. "It really is a good movie."

"Charles is jealous." Max smirks playfully.

A genuinepang of curiosity hits her. "Of who?"

"Belle, because I'm the beast and he's obviously Gaston."

"Why am I Gaston?!"

"Because you wear red all the time, duh."

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luveline · 9 months

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Steve zombie au with reader getting hurt at the new camp (like always) and Eddie offering support as a friend but Steve gets all jealous while trying to take care of HIS girl

for you my love ♡ steve zombie au —steve is riddled with guilty jealousy as you and eddie become friends. fem!reader 2k

It's a brave new world.

For starters, there are enough guns at camp and able bodied gunmen for fires in the daytime. There are warm meals eaten under the sun, songs sung quietly but nonetheless sung around the fire. There are happy children. There are books to be read to them, and batteries to power flashlights for story time under the stars.

Things aren't perfect, but after the tragedy of The College, things are good enough. Steve can bring himself to leave your side (though not for the first few days where he's bed bound, and not for a few more after that).

He can't lie, he hates that you like Eddie so much. His jealousy is a raging monster of stiff spines and dry eye twitches, insecurity that you've met someone new and that you trust them so quickly.

You were cagey at The College, scared of Steve's friends and petrified Steve was going to break up with you. He couldn't understand at the time how you would ever think such a thing, but now, with Eddie sitting by your knee and a piece of string between his fingers weaving a cat's cradle, your eyes alight with delight, Steve gets it. He totally gets it.

"It's not hard," Eddie promises you, letting the string fall from his fingers and into your lap.

"I don't have a complicated brain," you say.

"It's not rocket science. Even Steve can do it."

Steve picks an overcooked Lima bean up from his discarded dinner tray and aims to flick it between Eddie's eyes. You're gathered around the campfire in your cold weather coats, a procession of young (ish) adults knee to knee chatting away the worthless hours. When the Lima bean smacks Eddie in the cheek, Steve could pin it on any number of the people gathered. Christopher is a renowned professional when it comes to bothering people, and Jonathan has that older brother's penchant for being irksome, but Steve owns up to it.

"That's a touchdown."

Eddie gives him the finger as he instructs you, completely unbothered. "It's those two fingers– No– Yeah, you got it. And then push this finger under this, and this finger… Nice."

In another life, there's a Steve who doesn't care. He hasn't had to vy for your attention before besides sharing your friendship with Robin, and he's pathetically sorry about it —you should have friends. Steve thinks unabashed that you're the best person they ever made. All you want (all you've ever wanted) is to be loved and to give love back. He's known that about you for a very long time. And in his eyes you deserve what you want.

You deserve to have friends. He can share Robin, and you can have friends of your own, too. You can have everything.

Steve can't get a handle on how it's making him feel, is the issue. He's envious as a teenager with their first crush.

"You honestly just need to practise," Eddie assures you, laying back in the grass with his arms behind his head.

"You'll have to show me again."

You stay sitting and Eddie shows you the pattern again without sitting up. You aren't flirting with one another. Steve wonders if that would feel better, to be jealous of something substantial, but you're doing normal things. Eddie is treating you with exactly the kindness and friendship you deserve. Steve wishes he managed it himself when you first met, because you're his best love and his best friend.

Robin not included. (Robin is always included. Steve would die for her.)

Like she can sense his devotion, Robin puts a hand on his shoulder, pulling his weight gently to the left. "You'll burn a hole in his leather jacket."

"I hope he catches on fire."

"What are you so worried about? She had plenty of chances to leave you for somebody new. Jonathan's been nothing but sweet to her the entire time they've known one another and she barely notices."

Steve grimaces. "Jonathan likes her too?"

"He wants to be her friend, just like Eddie. I, on the other hand, want to marry her."

"Funny." Steve yanks grass up from its roots, the blades soft and cold between his fingers. There's an ice patch growing on his ass and thighs from the cold as the temperature drops. "It's fucking cold."

"You can move closer. I need to go and find Sarah for a bit. Don't burn your new kicks, Steve, they were a great trade."

Robin swapped a useless handgun for them to the resident portable blacksmith. Steve wriggles his toes in them gratefully.

Steve and the remaining group move closer to the fire slowly. When the sky is black and smooth as velvet dotted only by stars like pin holes, Will comes running with a miraculous bag of marshmallows, trailed by his ragtag group of friends; Dustin with his fraying hat, Lucas, and a teenaged boy named Peter.

Steve couldn't believe Lucas was alive at first. Eddie told the story to him when he was recovering in the shitty portable medbay. You'd been sleeping in the plastic chair by Steve's bed, your face pressed to his chest, a puddle of drool soaking into his t-shirt. He'd stroked your forehead for hours.

Eddie and a whole bunch of Hellfire members didn't quite manage the escape rendezvous orchestrated by Hopper at the start of the apocalypse. You and Steve must have just missed them when they set out in Eddie's van for safety. The story goes that Eddie's shit with directions, and while he managed to get to Michigan eventually, it was hard. They met up with a group of much older people who were able to take some of the weight off, eventually finding a group of military soldiers who'd been drafted to protect a politician's family. Their group kept growing and growing. While they never set up camp somewhere permanent, they've kept it together. If Eddie's group (or moving community) had managed to make it to The College, Steve thinks they might have survived the attack.

But you're together now. Hawkinites reunited, Hopper alive and well and nursing new plans.

"Hopper give those to you?" Christopher asks Will.

"How's that fair?" Eddie asks. "Family favouritism."

"I have to share them," Will says.

"Oh, well. Never mind. Accusation renounced."

The teens kidnap Eddie and run off to find sticks for marshmallow roasting. You turn to Steve with a smile that makes him feel worse rather than better, so subtly devoted.

"How's your arm?" you ask, leaning into his shoulder.

"Aches."

"Can I have a look?" you ask.

Steve offers his arm with no qualms. You fight to push back the sleeve of his coat and jacket. His wound is closed and healing nicely, but the infection must've been in his muscle or something because the ache won't go away. It feels as though he's done a hundred pull ups with one arm alone.

You don't touch anywhere near the site.

"I think it's looking better." You thumb over one of his little moles. "Pretty."

"You're pretty."

"You're prettier," you say, folding his sleeves down again with infinite care. He thinks you might be batting your lashes at him. That, or he's whipped to the point of delusion. "You feel okay, hm? You're mopey tonight. Do you want to go sleep?"

Steve shakes his head vehemently. "And miss marshmallows? No way."

You both notice that your question of mood went unanswered. Luckily for him, you dip down to rub your cheek against his sleeve. "Love you."

He loves you too. He says it under his breath, pressing his cheek to your head for as long as you're willing to stay there.

"Y/N-kins, Steven," Eddie says, returning with a handful of long branches covered in foliage. "I have a job for you."

You pull leaves off of the branches. It should be an easy job with the three of you sitting criss cross applesauce yanking the twigs naked excitedly, but you pull with too much enthusiasm and stab the meat of your thumb.

You hiss and look down. Your noise draws Eddie and Steve's attention in tandem, Eddie closest to the injured hand.

"Oh, shit," Eddie says, pulling his sleeve over his hand. He presses it to your skin as a surprisingly fat rivulet of blood springs and drips down to your wrist. "Here, don't get it on your clean coat."

Steve doesn't know why he does it. He isn't proud. But he thinks, That's my girl. Eddie's being friendly, and Steve knows that's all it is, but he can't stop himself from batting Eddie's hand away and moving in protectively.

"Cop a feel somewhere else, Munson," he bites.

"Steve!" you say, laughing.

Eddie rolls his eyes, sitting back in his spot with a laugh of his own. "Ridiculous. I wouldn't cop a feel ever 'cos I respect women–"

"Nice," you say.

"And if I were trying to flirt with her, Harrington, I'd definitely do it better. But as you both know my heart is promised to someone very important. I'm busy keeping the memory of metal alive, I don't have time for stealing girlfriends. Not that you're not worth stealing, Y/N."

Steve dabs your hand. You wink at Eddie playfully. "You keep her alive, Eddie. Are you gonna play some more rock songs for us tonight?"

"Duh."

"How do you manage to hurt yourself every single day?" Steve asks, distracted from the conversation by your cut. It can't be a quarter of an inch long but it's bleeding in a rush.

"See how it got faster when you came to save me?" you ask Steve. His heart drops, but you continue, "My heart gets faster when you're close. My blood pressure rises."

Steve tries not to show how pleased he feels at the compliment. You tap his elbow knowingly.

Steve assesses your cut. It stops bleeding just as soon as he leaves it alone and the kids arrive with their marshmallows, putting an end to Steve's makeshift medbay.

Someone puts a couple more logs on the fire to get it roaring now that night is creeping in. Steve insists on roasting a marshmallow for you.

"I have one working hand left," you protest.

"And knowing your luck, you'll burn it."

"I'd never control you like that," Eddie says, deadpan.

Steve stabs Eddie with a stick that's lightly smouldering at the tip. You tell Steve off, but when he presents you with a roasted marshmallow for eating you give him the world's greatest thank you kiss. Another after you've eaten it, your lips sticky with sugar.

"Do you want mine?" Steve asks.

You wrap your arm around his waist for a lopsided hug. "No. Don't ask me again though, I might say yes."

"Do you want mine? Seriously, honey–"

"I'll have it," Eddie says with a shit-eating smile, eyes trained on the fire where he toasts his own marshmallow.

You wave your hand at him. "No, you won't." You lift your chin to kiss his cheek. "It's yours. Don't let it burn, handsome."

Alright, Steve might have jumped the gun on the whole jealousy thing.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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tcfactory · 2 months

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Brainrot of the day is all about people mourning the OG Shen Qingqiu, it just happens somewhere where Shen Yuan can't see because he doesn't frequent the places where Shen Jiu used to withdraw when he got anxious or wanted to paint/play music/meditate in peace.

It all starts with Shang Qinghua setting up a kinda memorial - just a pile of rocks, really - but vibes and grief make it so that each time someone discovers it and remembers Shen Jiu they add to it. Someone carves a proper stone for the memorial - no name on it, obviously. Not a fan either, because the new Shen Qingqiu uses fans too. Bamboo stalks, a painter's easel and a pipa - he never played it in PIDW, so Shen Yuan has no idea that it was Shen Jiu's favorite instrument. The guqin is what they teach to the disciples when they are first learning music, so he sort of just assumed that's the one instrument Shen Jiu played.

Ning Yingying, Ming Fan, Mu Qingfang, Yue Qingyuan, Shang Qinghua... even Qi Qingqi starts missing him when his spy network starts falling apart without him. The list of people visiting grows until it becomes a whole thing to seek the memorial out when they miss the old Shen Qingqiu. To offer him a song or a snack or burn incense on his (chosen) birthday...

Cultivators are good at many things, processing grief is not one of them. If it was left to them they would still mourn him a century later as if he died yesterday.

Of course it's Shang Qinghua's fault when something changes. He's visiting the memorial after a very draining argument with Shen Yuan about how much Shen bro is neglecting his peak (he might as well not be a peak lord anymore because he wants to spend all his time with Binghe) when Mobei picks him up one day and takes note of the memorial. And the next time Mobei finds some miraculous rebirth plant (they've been keeping an eye out for something that can bring back Zhuzhi-lang and fix Tianlang-jun) he buries the spares there.

It should be nothing, without a body or even a soul to latch onto. Shen Jiu's presence is mostly gone from the world - except from this one place, where everyone hoards their grief in secret, sharing memories where they can't offend the new Shen Qingqiu.

It's not enough to call a drifting, shattered soul back to life.

Not until Tianlang-jun. He is on his way off the mountain after delivering a thank-you couched in the most infuriating wrapping he could muster to master Shen for his help in identifying what miracle cures were needed to fix him and his nephew up. He sought him out on Qing Jing because at least here his son can't pick a fight without consequences. Still, he's taking the scenic route as a form of spite, so that he can linger as long as possible without giving them an excuse to kick him off the mountain.

The clearing is thick with the presence of someone, a soul that is very much not the peak lord his son is so infatuated with. It's somehow familiar, in the way of people you used to regularly pass on the street remain, even after you no longer live on that street. It takes him a while to remember.

Su Xiyan didn't have 'friends'. Even her 'not-friends' (very much friends in truth, his beloved was just strange about her potential attachments to others) numbered so few he could count them on one hand. Only one of them liked music and arts enough that she introduced them to each other when they met by chance at a recital. They have only met once or twice, but Tianlang-jun carved his memory into his heart, as he did with everything to do with Su Xiyan.

What a curious thing for another Shen to linger so prominently on this peak.

Perhaps it's nostalgia that guides his hand to spill just a few drops of his blood on the dirt. It's not a proper path back, but it's a handhold, if Su Xiyan's last lingering friend wishes to claw his way back to life. Perhaps it's spite, because among all the people that frequent this place and leave their grief dripping over the rocks and grass, he can feel neither master Shen nor Luo Binghe.

Tianlang-jun isn't around for the fallout when Shen Jiu makes his triumphant return, but that's fine. It sounds like it was an unnecessarily explosive affair (Maybe it wasn't his smartest move to add heavenly demon blood to the divine miracle lotus root, but in his defense he had no idea that was there. He assumed, from the general vibe of the clearing, that it was just a plain old grave with a soul that clings through guilt or regret or resentment or, because humans are fascinating and complicated, all of the above). Rumors are always better than reality anyway (especially the ones filtered through Liu Mingyan and the book club) and this one is juicy enough to keep the cultivators gossiping for the next century.

He'll swing around when things have calmed down again, eventually. He wants to meet the new heavenly demon of Qing Jing Peak.

#svsss #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #I'm actually kinda writing this so uh #I need to stop spoiling the twists in my ideas tbh

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ghcstao3 · 6 months

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that one awful tiktok where a girl unironically bashes a guy she had a date with because they were supposed to meet at 6 pm at a restaurant and she messaged him at 6:10 pm she is on her way and by the time she got there at 6:50 pm he was nowhere to be found but with ghoap where soap is the guy and ghost is a waiter at the restaurant who approaches the sad looking soap and tells him 'they don't deserve you' and steals soap for a date after his shift ends.

It takes Ghost all of ten seconds to predict how this man's night would go, after witnessing his patient smile fall away for a saddened look only moments after glancing down at his phone screen. Ghost casts a look at the clock in the kitchen, reads 6:10, then turns to take the plates of another order sat in the window out to be served.

He's seen this sort of thing happen countless times before.

At some point, it just becomes a classic scenario for any waiter—one person shows up for their date, diligently on time, then lingers alone at their table for ten minutes longer than they're meant to. They receive a text—if they're even that lucky—then they wait another twenty, then finally realize they've been properly stood up.

If a waiter pities them enough, they might get a free drink or an appetizer. Nothing will be mentioned of the fact that they are unintentionally alone at a restaurant, because that is simply not a waiter's business.

That's just life with the godawful modern day dating scene. Ghost has seen the situation play out more than enough times to decide that it probably isn't for him.

Probably.

Because he finds his gaze continually drifting back to the man alone in his booth, and a tiny, shameful part of Ghost's brain is holding onto the hope that the date never shows up.

And because, when the man is finally resigning himself to slip out of the booth as it nears seven o'clock without the slightest hint of an appearance from his promised date, Ghost finds himself travelling over to the table before the man can leave, with a very stupid proposition in his mind and primed on his tongue.

Ghost clutches the laminated menus he had collected just prior with clammy hands, even as he projects an air of casualness like his heart isn't in his throat the second he meets eyes with the man.

Whoever had stood him up would surely have to regret doing so.

The waiter clears his throat as he realizes he's been staring too long at the man caught halfway through getting out of his seat.

"Sorry, I just... wanted to say that I think you deserve better company."

A brief look of confusion passes over the man's face before he glances to the empty spot across from him, shoulders hunching in on himself as his face goes lax, if not a bit irritated. He shrugs. "Nothin' I can do. Not looking for..." He sighs, peering up at Ghost with a strange expression crossing his face. He swallows. "Not looking for pity."

"I'm not here to offer pity," Ghost amends hastily. "I see this shit happen all the time, I get it." A deep breath. He never gets nervous like this, but something about the stranger was just so striking. "I was actually looking to ask you on a date. A real one."

The man blinks. "Oh?"

"My shift's over at seven. If that's something you're interested in."

The man seems to genuinely mull the idea over. His eyes flicker to the name tag pinned to Ghost's chest before looking back up at the waiter's face. "Don't see why not," he finally says. "Simon."

Ghost decides already that he likes the way this man says his name.

A smile tugs at the corners of Ghost's lips, only a faint pull. "Alright. I'll see you in ten minutes, then...?"

"John."

Ghost nods. Echoes, "John." Then returns to the final minutes of his shift with an odd sense of giddiness in his chest.

And later, during their date, when John receives an angry text from the woman that was meant to meet him wondering where he was after they had long left the restaurant, both him and Simon are able to laugh about it with a much better night to make up for the rest.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #writing

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heademptie · 30 days

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Ghoap x Comms!Reader continued...

Reader avoids Ghost as much as they can, not wanting to stir things up more than they already have, but they're only successful because Ghost allows it. And Ghost only allows it so he can better observe them. He's tried pulling strings, using his rank and reputation to try and find out more about reader. But it comes up short. He gets access to their file, but its all fluff inside, lots of it confidential or just blank. Their name isnt even on the file, just the callsign (to keep reader anonymous) Laswell gave out. He asked her too, but she didn't have the answers he wanted.

"Tell me about them." "Not much to tell, I'm afraid. Why? You think they're a threat?" "Don't know yet." "Should I be worried, Ghost?" He pauses, thinking it over. But Laswell knows well enough, that if there was a threat, Ghost wouldn't hesitate. So she sighs and hands over the lackluster file. "They work behind the scenes, no field record. They were brought here-" Her voice drowns out with information Ghost already knows, the extent of Laswells knowledge on the matter. On first glance the file looks fine, personal information left blank or blacked out, a brief service record. Nothing in the field, like Laswell said, but a few listings for assistence with signal decoding. But most of their work is as a mundane office drone, 'A temp,' Ghost thinks amused.

So he skulks around base and observes.

Johnny is confused. He's been able to read Ghost for some time now, their connection and dynamic so intertwined, so in tune with each other, thriving since Las Almas. He notices almost immediately, the sudden hostility and caution Ghost displays on base, it takes him a bit longer to find the target.

He tries to ask outright, of course he does because why wouldn't Ghost talk to him, but he gets shut down. A gruff response. "Don't know what you're talking about Johnny."

Soap pushes, of course, but he gets repeatedly shut out. He moaps a bit, like a kicked puppy, before he catches on to who has made Ghost like this. He's surprised when he cathes the critical look of Ghost when Reader walks by, and he doesnt miss the quick glance they flick over Ghost. Then that glance jumps to him and reader gives a small smile and nod, one that looks a little too nervous to be oblivious to Ghost's scrutiny.

So he finds them the next evening, Reader is leaving tomorrow, going back to wherever they were before, so they went out for a drink. He slides up next to them easily, and gives a bright, syrup sweet smile to ease into things. Reader is a bit tense to begin with but relaxs just a bit once conversation starts. Soap starts slow and vague, idle chat morphing into talking about readers time on base before eventually reaching his desired point of discussion.

Immediately, the mood shifts. Reader is subtle with it, smile becoming a little tighter at the corners, and eyes scanning over him with an increased intensity. They play dumb, not lying to him but repeating his words, asking thier own questions, faux confusion furrowing their brows.

'They're good at this,' Johnny thinks as reader gives another vague answer, easing him in the direction to make a false assmunption. He's not mad, a little annoyed, but mostly he thinks that they're clever. 'Maybe this is why Simon is suspicious,' reader is still on guard, but as Johnny relaxes into the back and forth, so do they. Its like a game now. 'A simple desk worker shouldn't be this good'.

The night comes to an end and Johnny insists on walking them back to base. He'll bring it up to Ghost again, mention how reader easily navigated the pseudo interrorgation, get him to talk. Its on the walk back that reader looks over to Soap, eyes kind yet critical and sighs. He looks over and reader offers a smile. Theres something in that smile he doesnt have the chance to decipher before they've caught him off guard.

"It's his business to tell you what's going on. I don't want to step on any more toes, especially since im out of here in a few hours."

Soap goes to ask more, opens his mouth, ready to launch into his questions, eager to finally get answers. But they put a hand on his shoulder and he falters.

"But for gods sake just tell him already."

He's confused, but the look they give speaks volumes. Oh. Oh. Johnny understands now. The hostility, the caution, the observation. Just as they saw through Johnny and cupped his weakness in their gentle hold, they had done the same to Simon.

Oh. This is...

Reader is gone the next day, as was expected, but Ghost is only slighty eased, and Soap finds himself a little on edge. It's not till weeks later, with readers voice nagging at him with that kind exasperation, that Soap (a little liquored up) is in Ghosts barrack.

They're shouting at each other, fear turning into misplaced anger before it goes quiet in the small room. They're both breathing heavy, Ghost, Simon in this moment, breaks it.

"I'll kill anyone who hurts you. And I'd be pleased to." He follows closely, closing the gap until uncovered hands grasp Johnny's face, as gentle as Simon can manage. "If you're mine, no one, no one, can touch you." Johnny is thrilled.

As the sun rises, the two are twisted together in the sheets of Ghosts too small bed, Johnny wears a tooth rotting smile. They think, seperately, offhandedly, that they really should thank that too clever reader.

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #fanfic #comms!reader #im liking this the more i write #definately gonna be some retcons if this turns into a full fledged fic #im just having fun #brain rot

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kitorin · 8 months

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journal.

in which, itoshi rin's midnight writing exposes what he's kept concealed from you.

contents. itoshi rin x reader, 2.878 k words, fluff, angst (in the past), itoshi backstory spoilers (mixed with a few headcanons), 1st person rin pov for a bit (journal entry), regular highschool au

a/n. is this my best? no. but is it the best i have for today? yes. happy birthday to rin <3 after assignments are done i'll definitely rewrite this (i gave up on proofreading)

10 / 09 / 2023 : SUNDAY, 12:04 am - 3:21 am

Solitude has never been a foreigner.

In fact, he's quite a familiar individual, an old companion that never seems to leave.

Even before Nii chan left for Spain, solitude was still there for me. During class I wouldn't utter a word to anyone else unless necessary, and contrariwise for said classmates. People still spoke to me; just not to the extent that they'd know what my favourite foods were, or what I liked to watch in my free time, not even bothering with it. I've never been invited to hang out with anyone after school, or been to someone else's house (not that I particularly cared, I was just sure that I was the only one).

But I was okay with it. I didn't want, or need anyone else when Nii chan bought me ice blocks, giving me the bigger piece as we'd watch the sun's warm hues bleed into the sky; the saccharine iciness contrasting how warm is was to be swallowed by sunlight together. Dad took us fishing a lot, he's always been well acquainted with the sea, taking us to locations well populated by bream; my favourite. On our way home we'd harvest kelp (Nii chan likes it in rice, salted) and take photos together on our yacht, admiring how the sun greets the world farewell, sinking into the aquamarine. Mum makes amazing food, I'm constantly astonished at how she manages to memorise every preference, from my love for ochazuke to being able to pour the perfect amount of tea; the rice never becomes too soggy (even I can't pour the exact amount I like). Solitude was close to me, but my family were closer.

There's a lot I could say about them, they've done more than remember what I love and ensuring I was happy; I'm thankful they've delivered the right for me to be comforted, to have a shoulder to cry on, to be able to freely ramble on about whatever fascinated me.

I've always been happy, even if I'm alone outside of the walls I call home. Because whether I laughed my heart out or sobbed to the point I couldn't form a coherent sentence, I'd always come home running to my family. Nothing can beat dinner; where we all relish mum's food, ask each other about our days' and offer solace or advice when necessary.

I miss that. Terribly, to the point my heart aches.

I knew that Nii chan's departure to Europe (Spain, to be exact) would change a lot. I'd have to score without his guidance, walk home alone and buy my own popsicles. Dinner time would have one less soul to laugh with, and home would have one less to embrace.

I just never expected it to be painful change. I never predicted that his return would result in losing us entirely. I didn't think his homecoming would cause my immortal resentment towards the snow, or how my eyes prickle a bit at the mere thought of an ice block. I'd say it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me, separation from him following it on the list of my worst experiences.

Solitude avoided me at home, but wasn't enough.

One time on the way home, I was overhearing the team's conversations (nothing particularly new really) and it was a discussion about the future. It was honestly surprising to find out only some of us intended to become soccer players; Nagi would rather stream or compete in professional gaming, Kurona wants to study marine biology in uni, and Yukimiya wants to give acting a go along with his modelling career. Even Isagi has a plan for if professional soccer isn't an option. He said he wanted to help others achieve their dreams if he fails to do so himself.

I remained silent as always, but had a lot more thoughts racing through my mind. Retreating to my room immediately that night, my first thought was to lie in bed, to neglect the clips I planned to analyse, to ignore muscle training for today and to slack off a bit. That's when I realized how sad the life I was living. I was sad because I was reminded of my reality.

I'm a mere myriad of distinguished achievements, though a hideous attempt of replicating genius Itoshi Sae. I'm a collection of formidable accomplishments, basking in the spotlight of glory and honour. The trophies and awards adorning my room prove it, standing tall with pride and flaunting my hard work.

That didn't mean anything. I had remained in a constant cycle of training, eating, and sleeping. My teammates were just as ambitious yet still worked hard on other things; Yukimiya enjoys modelling and Reo has a passion for economics, That must've been where I was lacking.

That's how I ended up writing again. It was an attempt to break out of this cyclical torture of constant training and sports.

I don't know how I remembered it, but I found my notebook from primary, all the stories messily scrawled yet legible. Scarlet adorned narratives birthed from child-like imagination, eulogising the prose, even though I almost flinched out of embarrassment.

Flipping through the pages, I had found the paragraph my teacher left me, insisting that I keep writing. Obviously, I never did. After getting into soccer I ignored everything school related, and would've found words on a page foolish anyways.

Many years later, I finally followed that advice.

The end result wasn't pretty. I paused a lot, struggled a lot, and almost gave up, a lot. It may have been hideous, but it was mine. A piece birthed from curiosity and memories from the past turned into another attempt. Another attempt morphed into extensive reading, I wanted to observe what was considered worthwhile or meaningless.

Writing rewove the early nights into late night reading, fully immersed in the author's thoughts translated into prose. Reading was the push to giving academics a go. Academics pulled me out of the endless cycle of soccer, there was more to life than training and diet regulation.

Books I can read. Words I can write. Exams I can study for and sports I can practice. Weights I can lift and competitions I can train for.

But to be loved, is so difficult.

It's not like an exam that you can study for and simply memorise the answers to. Or a match that has the security of a referee and reinforced rules. It's not something that can be guaranteed with a mentor.

People treat Isagi to his favourite whenever he has a bad day (he likes kintsuba). People advocate their favourite novels to Yukimiya and Chigiri, even going as far as memorising their preferences to curate their recommendations flawlessly. It must be nice, for someone to invest that sort of effort in you, even if it's simply remembering a hobby.

As my peers savoured the allure of love, estrangement and desolation constantly haunted me; a pest habituating the sleepless nights where I try to escape with a cup of coffee that's long gone cold.

It's lukewarm, praying for another's attention, care and love, to be hungry for one's time. I pathetically plead whoever manipulating my fate to provide me some sort of human connection. I shouldn't be so hopeful of others, yet I find myself dying of curiosity; what would it be like for someone to remember my birthday? Or tell me about the horror movie they adored?

I despise solitude's clinginess. But I hate how it makes me sob endlessly when no one watches.

I have myself. I have my thoughts which I've transcribed to oeuvre. I have the pile of books resting on my bedside table which sleep alongside with me. I have the trophies and awards I've won, I'll always appreciate my own talent and diligence, even if playing soccer brought me so much pain.

I think I'm somewhat pretty. I find my prominent eyelashes special to me, it's something unique to both me and Nii chan. My physique isn't too bad, either. I like the way my legs look, and my shoulders as I dry my hair.

I've always been proud of myself. I've always been enough and I always will be. Just not for others.

That's why I never expected my bond with solitude to be severed so easily. Especially because of y/n out of all people.

I still don't get how it happened. The oblivion to their presence became a peculiar first impression. An odd first meeting turned into abrupt yet regular greetings amidst hallways. Soon, I was sitting with them in every class, passing notes during tedious lessons and discussing our favourite media on the bus ride home.

Before I knew it, passionate rambles about books turned into watching movies together in my room. Whenever they greeted me their friendly wave was replaced with a tight hug, passing notes in class were accompanied with subtle kisses on the cheek.

Our relationship as friends was reimagined to lovers.

Something must've possessed me to blurt out the stupid crush I had on them, and I thank whatever drove me to do that. As awkward as I was it doesn't compare to the skip of my heartbeat when they accepted my feelings.

It's been almost a year since I met them, yet I still feel hot whenever they hold my hand, and flush red at every compliment they whisper. I still find myself stuttering sometimes whenever they're showing me a new outfit they've styled.

I love the way they smile, the creases of joy that adorn the outer corner of their eyes, and how they squint with glee and the sweet, melodious laughter that accompanies it; how breathless they sound whilst laughing. The expression they wear when deep in thought fascinates me, even if it's midway through an exam or them simply observing a video Bachira sent them. I adore their late night thoughts they text me at 3 am, the fatigue itching my eyes seem to evaporate when I notice their name on the notification. I treasure the notes we've scrawled on spare sheets of paper, they're still in between the pages of my books.

Even now, they're sleeping soundly in my bed, arms wrapped around the plush I bought them; I keep getting distracted by the sight of them so relaxed, chest rising up and down with each breath.

I would die for them. Because now I don't need to pretend to be invested on my phone to look less lonely. Now, I don't need to put my bag on the seat next to me to make it look like I sit alone by choice. I don't have to persuade the teacher to let me do group projects alone, or have to observe others with jealousy. Someone defends me from disparaging comments.

Because now, I'm not alone.

7:15 am

THE ENTRY COMES TO AN END, AND EMBARASSMENT DUSTS Rin's face a faint tint of pink. His eyes avoid contact with yours— as he waits for your input his latest piece.

"Well? What do you think?"

You're not sure where to start. You've always known about his strained relationship with his older brother, and how his friendship with his teammates wasn't the same in the beginning. But he never explained it in detail; you wouldn't've guessed that he had some sort of chionophobia, or even cried because he felt so secluded from others. The thought of him concealing his tears and pain from the rest of the world made your eyes prickle and sends your heart racing miserably.

"Doesn't matter—" He reaches for the notebook, closing it and tossing it onto his desk. "Forget it, you didn't see anything." He plops backwards again, head hitting the pillow and groaning as he covers his face with his forearm. "It was shit anyways, I'll rip it out and toss it later."

"It wasn't."

Rin stays silent.

You lie down, mimicking his current position and cup his cheeks with your hand. "You'll never be alone again—, I promise you that." Your voice falters ever so slightly, the thought of his pain makes you feel weak in the knees and sick to the stomach. "You're more than enough, you always have and always will be. You don't need anyone's validation to be beautiful, you never did."

Rin sighs, "I'm only like that because of you." Yet something seems to throb in his heart, the small but overpowering part of him that insists he requires another's approval to be important— someone finally proving that wrong.

"That's not true."

"Yes it is, our classmates still loathe me, so do people who barely see or speak to me." There was no lie in that; but it wasn't Rin's fault. "Yoichi and the others only spend time with me because of you."

"I was only the push for them to speak to you, you know they've always cared, they were just too nervous to speak to you. As competitive as he gets, Yoichi really admires you, to the point he gets so heated and ends up rambling about your skills." That's a secret that was supposed to remain in your private messages, but Yoichi doesn't need to know.

Satisfaction momentarily appears on Rin's face at the thought of his rival's great respect, though it doesn't last very long.

"He's my teammate so it's expected... everyone I speak to at school seems to have something against me, even our English teacher." The mistreatment at school is undeniable, it's not exactly bullying but there's no respect or human decency in how people behave towards him.

"Rin, love, you've done nothing wrong, hate isn't always rational. There will always be people who can't stand seeing others more successful, and that's not your fault."

"Really?" His eyes light up; despite having a sophisticated and cold demeanour all the time, he looks like a child again, hope dances in his wide eyes.

"Really." Your fingers take advantage of the opportunity and pinch his cheeks gently. "Don't listen to all those stupid rumours and assumptions, idiot. I'd fight anyone who tries to hurt you and win every time."

When your fingers let go he immediately kisses you, and it leaves you breathless; the way he pulls you in flexes his well toned biceps and his hand supports your head.

"Thank you." Rin whispers, pulling away a bit. "Thank you for appreciating me. Thank you for everything." It's a rare occurrence for him to sound so frail, same goes for the tremble of his bottom lip.

"Of course, I love you more than anything."

"I love you too." It's escorted by a peck on your nose, and a soft expression sculpted on his face.

Before Rin can throw a blanket over the two of you again, you interrupt.

"You shouldn't throw that entry away." You still haven't forgotten his initial intention with it. "I don't get why you think it's shit."

"It's rushed. And it's just me waffling on about my feelings and the past. There's no proofreading, and it's rushed. It's not even complete either."

"That's the whole point of writing, no? It's the expression of our words and thoughts." You reach towards his desk to pick up the notebook. "Not everything has to be written in one sitting, too."

Rin doesn't bother stopping you from looking through the notebook at this point. "It's still stupid. It's just that I had the urge and motivation to write in the dead of night."

"Well. I like it."

Rin's stoic expression crumbles, revealing the bashful side he keeps concealed from the world. "Then that's good enough for me." The red on his cheeks tell you that you've won the argument.

You turn back to the entry page, impressed with his barely legible yet pretty handwriting. "You should've slept instead."

"I don't get tired anyways." He's quickly betrayed by the yawn clawing out of his throat.

"Liar. Why would you stay up writing so late... your sleep is important you know?"

"Because you are love itself. I won't get a wink of sleep if it means I can think and write about you instead." Rin's pulls you in again, tossing his notebook elsewhere as he leans in. "I promise I'll finish that entry, no— I'll write a book about you one day."

"Writing this, writing that, sleep first dumbass." A smile tugs at your lips as you pull Rin back into the position you were cuddling in a few hours ago. Even though you were the one who slept a lot more, fatigue itched your eyes, and a yawn spilled out too.

In response, Rin tosses a blanket over the two of you, whispering good night as you begin to nod off a bit. He should rest too, he has training tomorrow and has to go to the gym as well.

The Itoshi Rin from before would've slept immediately. In fact, he wouldn't've stayed up in the first place, let alone date someone. But the Itoshi Rin now instead stares at you, admiring each and every feature of yours. You're his savior, the luminescent moon irradiating his world, guiding him away from the grasps of solitude and embracing him with love instead.

Tagging: @yuzurins (yumi you inspired this fic btw lol)

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #fluff #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi #rin #blue lock manga #blue lock rin itoshi #blue lock rin

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months

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Hey I would like to request a good omens Crowley x reader angsty sad fic where they are pining over him but he loves aziraphale and they don’t want to interfere. Kind of Laufey’s song Let You Break My Heart Again vibes. Thx!!❤️

"Why couldn't I have what THEY had, [y/n]?! Maybe it's...it's all part of God's great ineffable plan! As if fallin' weren't enough...y'know? Why not allow him to walk outta my life and crawl back to the other angelss, too? Keep fuckin' me over, I suppose. This must be karma, I swear.."

"Crowley.." You began, only to stop as the demon on the other end of the line continued his drunken sorrowful ramblings.

He was still clearly hurting, and you were his only company left.

The only one who knew about him and Aziraphale and everything they've done together for the past 6,000 years.

You've been around for a thousand or so, not aligned with Heaven nor Hell, but living as a simple immortal being.

However, only very recently have you learned that they've in fact known each other since the very dawn of Creation.

So their history goes way back.

It's no secret that Crowley's been pining after the angel all these years, forced to pretend he hates him just because he was on the "opposite side".

But he was sick of doing all of that, and finally got the courage to tell him how he really felt. He begged him to stay, to stop taking sides, and to think about just them for once.

In the end, Aziraphale still chose the side that shunned him for conspiring with a demon, halting Armageddon, and hiding Gabriel on Earth...all because he was offered a higher position of power and couldn't so easily let go of Heaven.

Not as easily as Crowley could. He couldn't understand that, or why Gabriel and Beelzebub could go off together and they couldn't.

Now you were here, having to comfort the very same demon that you've fallen in love with yourself.

It felt like such a selfish desire, knowing that you haven't lived nearly as long as either of them. You weren't there at the beginning of Everything. You weren't there at the Garden of Eden.

You could never fully understand their deep-rooted bond.

There's no way he would ever see you in a remotely similar light.

Even still, the heart wants what it wants..even if it's unobtainable.

"Listen, Crowley.." You tried speaking again. "I'm next in line, do you want anything?"

Perhaps that was rather poorly worded, as you heard a sniffle and what sounded like him holding back a sob. "I just want him to come back.." His voice broke.

There was that feeling again, constricting your human heart with pain.

It was such a fickle organ, you often thought. It kept people alive, yet when put through emotional toil..it felt like it was killing them, and they wanted nothing more than to rip it out of their chest to be rid of the pain.

But right in this moment, you felt like that because deep down...you wish he instead said that he wanted-

"W-Wait..you're..at that café 'cross the bookshop, right?" You heard Crowley mumble. "I'll get the usual..assuming she remembers. Actually...don't bother-"

"It's fine, Crow. It'll be my treat. I'm getting something, too...not that we actually need it. But we both enjoy it, right?"

"...right." He chuckled depressingly. "Fine. I'll be outside."

That was a surprise, although when you briefly glanced outside the window of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, you noticed the Bentley parked next to the sidewalk. You sighed, hanging up the phone before you stepped up to the register, smiling at Nina.

"Hello, Nina. I'll have my usual..and Mr. Crowley's, too. Six espresso shots, was it? And one of those [favorite flavor] pies, pretty please." You pointed to the menu.

"On it." She nodded, already getting to work on your order. "You know, I haven't seen that chap around in a while. How's he holding up? I heard he took it pretty hard."

"Yeah." You muttered, recalling how you've talked to her about your own feelings for Crowley.

You weren't expecting a human to solve the relationship woes of immortal beings when she herself was going through her own issues.

She worried that her and Maggie's little "intervention" caused the demon and angel to split up, but you didn't blame her. And neither did Crowley, although he was torn between wishing he didn't kiss Aziraphale and wondering if he'd regret not doing that at all.

He hasn't been back at the coffee shop since.

"Well, do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"

You nearly choked on your own spit. "N-Nina...I..I can't just do that. He clearly doesn't see me that way. He talks about him every day and night. I've stayed up past midnight consoling him, letting him stay with me the moment I learned he's sleeping outta his car. But...it's him he loves, not me. And I can't interfere with that..it would be wrong."

"Then...what's your plan from here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"..I'm not sure anymore. I guess hope that one day..I'll stop falling in love with him. Maybe his angel will come back and everything will be as it was."

"Sounds like wishful thinking at this point, but I'm sure things will work out. Maybe he'll move on."

"I doubt it, but time will tell."

"Right." After finishing the drinks, she set them down into a cupholder, before giving you the pie as well. You paid and bid her farewell before heading out of the café and to the Bentley.

Inside, you saw Crowley sulking, lost in thought until you knocked on the passenger's window. He sat up with a start, fixing his glasses when he realized it was you. "S-Sorry."

The door opened, and you slid inside, passing him the tall cup with tons of espresso shots. "It's okay. So..where did you wanna go today?"

"I was thinkin'..St. James Park. Feel like I've been neglecting the ducks for far too long."

You blinked. 'Wasn't that..his and Aziraphale's thing-?'

"Yeah, I know..it...was our thing." He responded as though he read your mind. "'s just..been so lonely without him to chatter to. I hate siting all alone on that bench. But it's not like I can just walk Upstairs and tell him to screw all of them, right?"

"Sadly..no." Shaking your head, you glanced over your shoulder at the plants he's shoved into his backseat. Closest to you was a venus fly trap that had spots and other flaws, looking rather frail and wilted and sad.

Not too different from how its owner felt.

You smiled sadly and stroked the top of its head with your thumb, feeling it cease its trembles. Its mouth closed as it seemed to...purr?

How cute.

"Well would ya look at that...ya even treat the bloody things the same as he did.."

You tensed, looking back to Crowley and frowning upon seeing the tears sliding down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away once you noticed them, yet a sniffle still managed to escape him.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep doing stuff that reminds you of him.." You set a hand on his back. "Do you...want me to drive?"

"No, it's fine.." He shook his head, sniffling loudly one last time before he managed to pull himself together. "Let's just..go."

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee and a small bite of your pie, before you reached for the radio-

However, you forgot that the Bentley was sentient, instead turning it on for you and playing a song that nearly made you choke once again.

"--All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why. Ooooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do. I should stop, Heaven knows I've tried..."

Even Crowley froze as he listened to the lyrics.

And not because it wasn't a Queen song.

"One day, I will stop falling in love with you."

Neither of you spoke a word, instead staring at the dashboard with looks of sadness upon your faces. You thought he would've changed the song by now, but...when you looked over, you could see his glasses now resting on the bridge of his nose.

His golden irises have almost completely taken over the whites of his eyes.

What little you saw of them..

Were growing redder and glossier.

"Some day, someone will like me like I like you."

You felt your own eyes start to sting, too, so you looked away and opted to pet the venus fly trap that was nuzzling your hand, clearly asking for more much-needed affection.

Sentient plants were easy to comfort.

If only your demon friend could be the same way..

If only you could show him that you wished to be more than just friends..but this simply wasn't your place to tell him that.

Not here, not now...and possibly not ever. For as long as you lived on this mortal plane.

All you could hope was that one day, the feeling will pass.

If Aziraphale came back, things might be better. You wished the idiot would at least check in with you both once in a while so you knew he was alive.

If that's the last time you hear from him, well....you weren't sure if Crowley would ever want to try loving again after what he's suffered through. He poured his heart out, only for it to get broken and stomped on before being left all alone on Earth.

He couldn't go through that again.

And you didn't wanna say anything about how you felt for the centuries you've known him. He could very well perceive that as you trying to replace him and ruin this friendship.

The wounds in his heart are still clearly fresh..and they likely will be for a long, long time.

For now, you'll just be by his side and be mindful. Perhaps he'll eventually realize how you felt about him...but you doubt it.

"Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend we are more than friends. Then of course, I'll let you break my heart again-"

Crowley's hand suddenly shot towards the button, the car filling with an abrupt silence as he shut off the music. Then he switched between several Queen songs, eyebrows furrowed as none of them seemed to suit his current mood.

If Queen didn't make him happy anymore...he was seriously in emotional distraught.

But eventually he settled for "Somebody to Love", and you smiled, wiping your eyes as you leaned back in the seat. "Good choice."

He nodded absentmindedly, before finally driving off to the park after adjusting his glasses.

No further words were exchanged. You didn't even scold him for speeding down the tightly-knitted roads of London. That's the last thing he needed right now.

Especially since you picked up that habit from Aziraphale.

But even as Freddie's voice reverberated through the Bentley, you two couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics of Laufey's song and what it meant to both of you.

Yet the people it reminded you of...were completely different.

#ough i listened to this song on repeat while editing this </3 #hurts like a bish #clanask #good omens x reader #good omens 2 spoilers #crowley x reader #ineffable husbands #immortal reader #angst

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lady-charinette · 1 year

Text

"Do you think....we are good parents to her?" Rei's question got whispered into the bedroom, only the silver light of the moon peeking into their room.

Kazuki flexed his hands, turning his head to make out Rei's oddly serene features in the darkness. It's been a while since they left their life of killing, it took even longer than that for Rei and Kazuki both to lean into the normal, civilian way of life with honest work and daring to dream of safety.

But with Miri, all their struggles seemed to reduce in size.

Kazuki smiled wrily. "Are you getting sentimental on me, old man?"

Rei nudged him with his good elbow. "We're only in our 40s."

Kazuki laughed, quietly enough to not rouse Miri from her room. "Yeah..." with a deep sigh, he slowly turned to fully face Rei. "Honestly...sometimes I don't really know. Miri's older now, we get into fights with her every now and then. Remember the first time she talked back to us?"

Rei suppressed a chuckle but the corners of his lips twisted into the beginnings of a smile. "You had a mental breakdown the whole day and hallucinated "rebellious teenage Miri"."

Kazuki turned serious for a second. "Rebellious teenage Miri CAN hurt me."

Rei shook his head. "Hm...I think..." with some effort, Rei turned on his side, now face to face with Kazuki. "I don't know either."

Kazuki sighed, a fond smile gracing his lips. His hand twitched on its position between their bodies. "I think we're doing our best, just like everyone else. Tomo-chan told me the other night how she wants to strangle her husband sometimes because he doesn't do as much housework as he used to."

Rei chuckled with a knowing smile. "Did you offer to dispose of her husband again in your drunken state?"

Kazuki scratched the back of his neck. "...I might have. Hey, nothing that is said while drunk counts. The moms still think I'm joking."

Rei sighed. "Who knows what they would do if they found out you aren't joking."

Kazuki hummed thoughtfully. "...I actually think they might be down if they found out we used to be actual hitmen."

Rei ignored the last remark, his voice turning softer again. More vulnerable. "I wonder if I made it hard for you and Miri..."

The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, Kazuki staring at the cloud of guilt hanging over Rei's head. "You sacrificed so much for Miri, for us. We pulled through everything we set our mind to so far, so..." in a bold move, Kazuki scooted closer to Rei on the bed and gently rested a hand on the back of Rei's head, leaning in close to bonk their foreheads together. "Be more confident, eh?"

Rei couldn't clearly see in the darkness, but he knew Kazuki was grinning his trademark grin.

In a leap of courage, Rei inched closer and rested his hand on Kazuki's cheek. "Only if you do the same, you hypocrite."

Kazuki froze. "Huh?"

Rei smirked. "You don't think the mom group sends me updates about your drunken adventures? I've seen you cry as a drunk depressed ball more often than sober."

Feeling heat burning his cheeks, Kazuki tried to back away. "Ah- wait, about that- ugh I knew I shouldn't have trusted Mari to keep a secret!"

Rei snickered, rubbing his thumb across Kazuki's cheek, which caught his attention. "We're in this together, partner. So...lean on me too."

Kazuki blinked rapidly, touched at Rei's sincerity. They've come a long way since their starting days, but it still surprised Kazuki to see the softer side of Rei.

Still, a good hitman knew to never miss an opening shot.

Now fully pressed against Rei's body, Kazuki wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his nose against Rei's affectionately. "If you insist, partner."

Kazuki was positive Rei was blushing up a storm with how hot his skin felt on his. "I-I didn't mean it like that..."

Even when he said this, Rei wrapped his arm around Kazuki and never let him go till morning.

Thanks for reading!

#bd #buddy daddies #kazurei #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #miri unasaka #bd fic #buddy daddies fic

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hrodvitnon · 2 months

Text

Okay, I need to calm down... so I've been working on another SIGNALIS fic, this one considerably lighter in tone than Ne Cede Malis, in which Ariane has art block and seeks to fix that by sketching Elster. Gay Panic ensues. But before that Gay Panic, there is...

---

Well, why not? It's not as if they've probably broken a dozen extremely specific rules by this point in the voyage. Elster holds out one hardtack. Ariane scrutinizes the cracker-like foodstuff, leans in to sniff at it as if that will make it more palatable, and gingerly presses her teeth into it. What little flavor she gets on her tongue is a whole lot of... nothing.

"Harder," Elster instructs with an amused lilt in her voice.

Ariane applies more pressure, but Elster wasn't kidding about tooth strength – do Replikas have hydraulic jaws just to crack these things apart?

"Do you require assistance, Officer Yeong?"

Ariane shoots her a look that says, Yes, and would you kindly please not take so much enjoyment out of this? Elster cracks a smile, her fingers snapping the infernal thing with a loud crack so that Ariane can be left with a much smaller and more manageable piece. It's rather funny seeing how the officer's face scrunches with every audible crunch as she meticulously works through the aggressively dry hardtack.

"Not to your taste?" Elster surmises.

Somehow, Ariane reduces it into small enough pieces to swallow without choking her. "I wasn't aware that clinical depression came in cracker form."

Elster makes a chuffing noise, Ariane taking a spoonful of oatmeal to wash the nonexistent taste out of her mouth.

"It's not that bad."

"We could use that stuff to repair a damaged hull!"

"Yes, but then what would I eat?"

Ariane slides the bowl to stand between her and Elster, scoops up some oatmeal in her spoon and holds it up in offering. Elster doesn't plan to start diving into the Gestalt rations just to get away from panzerplatten for a cycle or two, but Ariane isn't the sort to back down from an offer and she has to admit, the idea of tasting actual food is tempting. Elster leans in and opens her mouth, tongue extending to catch a bit of oats and fruit about to drip down from the spoon. There's a silent hitch in Ariane's breath as she watches this.

And then her cheeks flush the instant Elster's lips make contact with the spoon.

Elster's lips just touched her spoon.

The same spoon she needs to finish her breakfast with.

Schoolgirl giggling from Mandelbrot Polytechnical echoes in the chambers of her memory, of popular girls at a crowded lunch table gossiping over So-And-So getting an indirect kiss from Such-And-Such. Ariane has never been kissed before, directly or otherwise. Her only experience with it had been the maternal affections of her mother pressing a peck to her brow or on her cheek. At the time, Ariane pretended it didn't bother her because why make a big deal out of some spit when she had more pressing concerns, like not getting jumped by a gang of upperclassmen when Erika wasn't around to protect her? Nobody liked the creepy ghost girl from Leng anyway. Boys didn't draw her eye and girls were pretty but insidiously cruel. Such things were locked away in the realm of impossibilities.

But now here Ariane is, and Elster's lips and tongue have touched her spoon.

Meanwhile, Elster is blissfully unaware of the fact that she just caused Ariane's brain to shift gears without a clutch.

#signalis #elster 512 #ariane yeong #ACHTUNG. ACHTUNG.#preview

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lovemebutleavemewild · 3 months

Text

Leave it to the land - Chapter 3.

The world has ended, it's over—except some people can't seem to accept that. Those same people think the cure lies in people like you and your little sister. And they're willing to do anything to find it.

The road to safety is a long one, and you're about to learn that it isn't one you can walk alone.

Read it on ao3.

Tag list: @elentiyaiswriting

You manage to stay awake for most of the night, although you're sure you start to doze at some stage.

You spend most of the time going over what happened on the fire escape and cursing yourself. You'd always been afraid of heights but this time, you'd gone completely to pieces. And in front of Ghost, of all people. You were trying to make these men your allies, while making it clear that you wouldn't take anyone messing with you or Dot.

Hard to take someone seriously when they can't even climb a ladder, you think to yourself bitterly.

All in all, you've had better mornings and you're grumpy as you try to scrounge together some breakfast for yourself and Dot. Soap and Ghost each have those ready meals you've seen soldiers eat. You have one protein bar left and give her the bigger half. It's actually a few months out of date but you can't really afford to stick your nose up so you decide to chance it.

After you've all eaten, you stand around kind of awkwardly, not sure what to say or do.

Eventually Soap glances at Ghost and clears his throat.

“So, we've decided to take ye’ up on yer deal.” Your heart leaps. He holds up a finger.

“On the condition that you give us the general location we're going.” He sees you open your mouth and continues before you can start. “It's the only way we can plot the best route.”

You shut your mouth and scowl.

“How do you know I don't already know the best route?”

Soap scoffs.

“If you did, you wouldn't still be here.”

Your scowl deepens.

“I know how to get out—it's just doing it that's hard. We're a little low on weapons, in case you haven't noticed.”

Of course they've noticed, you think, and once again you've pointed out how vulnerable you are, as if it weren't obvious.

You don’t even know why you’re arguing. You should be delighted at this turn of events. You've got two obviously skilled soldiers willing to accompany you to meet Kyle. And they're friends of his. This is exactly what you'd been hoping for. And yet, now that the offer is on the table, you're having doubts.

There's nothing to say they're telling the truth about being friends with Kyle. They recognised his patch, sure, but they could have picked up that information from somewhere else. You could be leading a trap right to him.

Another thing: you can't stay awake around them every night—you're already feeling the effects of not sleeping the night before. Doing this would mean trusting them enough to let your guard down, at least a little, and you’re not sure you can do that.

But then you look at Dot and remember the last few months of trying to find enough to eat, close encounters with tier fives, and government sentries and bounty hunters who wouldn't hesitate for a second to hand you back to the research centre.

Your little sister has an almost permanent pinched look on her face like she's spent every moment of the last few months afraid. You know you can't go on like this for much longer, either of you.

Which means you don't have a choice.

Soap produces a paper map and you use it to point out the direction you'll need to go.

“So we're leaving now then?” You're feeling antsy and want to move. The dead have wandered off during the night, but you know they won't have gone far.

“Soon,” Soap assures you. “We just need to make a stop first.”

“A stop?” you ask suspiciously. “A stop where?”

“Safehouse. Like the one Kyle told you about.” You must look confused because he goes on.

“We each know about a few of the safehouses, not all of ‘em. We’re not sure where the one Kyle showed you is but the one I’m on aboot isn’t far from here”

“How many-”

“That's enough.” You startle and look at Ghost but he's glaring at Soap, who shrugs.

“Why do we need to go there?” You ask.

“We'll need more ammo and they might be able to get us transport to the edge of the city.”

You have to admit that's tempting. You consider asking who “they” are but one look at Ghost’s tense stature tells you it won’t do any good. So with the increasingly familiar feeling of not having any choice in the matter, you agree.

Your trip through the city is quiet in the early morning. You naturally take up your positions from before, with Soap leading the way, you and Dot walking behind him, and Ghost bringing up the rear.

You find yourself missing Dot’s voice. She usually kept up a quiet but constant chatter while you walked, but she's barely said a word the last few days. You get it—you find Ghost and Soap scary enough, you can't imagine how much worse that is for a little kid. You see her glancing at Ghost’s mask sometimes, then quickly away.

You silently take her hand in yours as you walk. She still doesn't say anything but you feel her squeeze your hand hard.

After some time, Soap holds up clenched fist, and you hear Ghost come to a stop. A second later you feel something touch your elbow and flinch away.

Ghost holds up a placating hand, then points to a building up ahead.

“This is us. When we go in, let us do the talking.”

You nod. Your patience for meeting new people is at breaking point anyway.

You pull Dot closer to you as the four of you move into an alleyway.

Soap knocks on a door, which opens almost immediately. You hear him talking quietly to someone, jerking his head back at you and Dot. You start to feel uncomfortable and you're about to say something when the door opens fully and Soap gestures you inside.

The room is small and dim. The person inside is wearing a mask, much like Ghost’s, but plain. Soap and Ghost stand close to them and talk some more, while you hang awkwardly behind them, Dot tucked behind you.

Eventually Soap turns to you.

“We'll be back in a few minutes. You stay here.”

Now, you are going to argue—splitting up and leaving you with an, almost definitely armed stranger, was not part of the plan, but Soap and Ghost are already gone.

You consider pulling out your knife but resist the urge, instead just keeping a wary eye on the person in the mask, who has stayed behind and is now watching you without speaking.

You take a seat and settle in for what turns out to be a long wait. Your leg shakes nervously and you make an effort to sit still.

A sudden noise from a walkie on the table makes you startle. The person in the mask picks it up and talks into it for a few seconds.

Then they leave, giving you a long look before they go.

You wait for another while, until almost half an hour has passed, getting more and more antsy by the minute.

After you've chewed through most of your fingernails, you make a decision. You kneel down to look at Dot.

“I just want to have a quick look around, okay?” When she starts to shake her head, you put a hand to her hair and shush her.

“Just to see if everything is okay, in case something’s holding them up. 10 minutes top, okay?”

When she nods reluctantly, you press a quick kiss to her forehead.

You keep her behind you, letting her hold the back of your shirt so you can keep your hands free.

The corridor outside is surprisingly bright compared to the dim room you just left. There are a few doors along it but you don’t open them, scared to attract attention. At the end of the hall, there are a few doors with glass panes—you make a beeline for these instead.

Peering into the first, you jerk your head back when you realise there are people inside. You look again, more carefully. A woman wearing gloves is drawing blood from a man’s arm. You duck underneath the door and make your way to the next room.

What you see there is familiar, even if the set up is a little different. There are different sized items of glassware sitting on a bench. Some of them are filled with liquid. Petri dishes are laid out under some microscopes and a computer monitor is set up, though the tiny text is too far away for you to read from outside. It doesn’t matter. You know what this is.

It’s a lab.

Your breath starts coming a little faster. Idiot, you think to yourself. You’d spent so long trying to get out of the facility and now you've walked right back into one. Soap and Ghost have clearly led you right into a trap. They were probably negotiating their price for the pair of you right now.

Well, whatever experiments they're running here, you want nothing to do with it, for you or Dot.

“Come on, Dot,” you whisper, and hurry back along the hall, still half bent so you can't be spotted through the glass topped doors.

You get back to the room and immediately go to the door leading to the alley, only to find it locked. You whirl around and start looking for a key but the room is almost completely empty, apart from the chairs you'd just vacated.

You go back to the door into the hallway, and yank it open, determined to find either a key or something to batter the door down, only to walk straight into something solid.

You bounce back like you've hit a brick wall and look up. You've just walked straight into Ghost. He makes no move to steady you and just stares.

“Going somewhere?” he asks you, folding his arms over his chest.

You swallow, mouth dry and back up, sweeping Dot behind you with one arm. As if it'll do you any good.

You barely notice Soap enter the room. He looks at you, frozen, half crouched in front of Dot, arms spread protectively, then at Ghost, raising his eyebrows.

“Alrigh’?" he asks, glancing between you both. Neither of you answer and he shakes his head.

“Grand, so. You guys ready?”

You blink at him.

“Ready?”

“Uh … yeah? We're all stocked up and we were able to get a car with half a tank—should be enough to get us to the edge of the city. We can find our own way from there.”

“And what did that cost?” There's a hard edge to your voice that makes Soap cock his head at you. He must think you're a fucking idiot. A fair appraisal considering your behaviour so far, but you're done trusting them now, Kyle or no Kyle. If these guys are involved with the research centre, you need to put as much space between you and them as possible. But if they’ve sold you out, why is Soap still keeping up the act?

You remember what Ghost said about the other safehouses. Maybe they've been hired to take you to another lab for testing, with you following them, docile as lambs to slaughter.

“It's paid for, doll, no worries.”

Well, if they think you're dumb enough to go along with whatever they have planned, maybe it's best you go along with it. After all, you still need a way out of the city and you're not getting out of this building without them.

“Right, let's go then.”

Soap nods, and you realise the person from before is back. They let you out onto the street again. They still don’t speak and the sound of the door closing and locking behind you is loud in the quiet.

The car is in an underground garage, which is locked until Soap says something into another intercom and the roller door trundles open.

The engine stutters for a few seconds when Soap turns the keys but eventually roars to life. Ghost gets shotgun so you take the backseat with Dot, who peers out the window, wide-eyed. She won't remember the last time she'd been in a car, you realise. So many things you'd taken for granted in your old life are still novel to her.

The drive is quiet and you spend the time making your own plan.

As long as Soap and Ghost think you trust them, you have leverage. You'll get as far as you can with them, then make a break with Dot. How you'll do that remains to be seen but you'll have to figure that out later. Having some idea of what you’re going to do doesn’t help you relax much but the toil of the day and the lack of sleep from the night before finally catch up to you and you find yourself dozing.

You wake to Dot shaking your arm. The car has stopped and the landscape has changed. You're close to the edge of the city now and in front of you, a forest stretches further than you can see.

“Just about out of petrol,” Soap tells the car at large. “We’ll hide the car for the guys to come collect, but we're on foot from here. Let's try and get going while we've still got a few hours of sunlight left.”

#fanfic #read on ao3 #alternate universe #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #zombie #zombie apocalypse #kyle gaz garrick #original character #cod #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #leave it to the land

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binary-not-found · 1 year

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Episode 20 season 2 ✨

Once again I come offering a stupidly long analysis, so buckle up and read carefully, because you already know I tend to recall what I mentioned before, lets get started 😌

First, and because I simply can't stay without mentioning it, I also want a drawer like that, in my office we have one but we all know that there are snacks in there, it's no secret haha. Now, the fact that the stuff in the drawer doesn't fall out when she flips it over!!! it's not even a real drawer 😅

I love the way Kate looks at her, like knowing that she's right on cue, catching her doing what Lucy knows she shouldn't be doing, kind of like when my boss sees me hiding fries in the mornings 🤭

Now, I don't know if it's just me reading too deep into it, but I'm always going to see bringing someone food or cooking for them as a demonstration of love, maybe it's just because of my culture and how families show affection by preparing your favorite dish, I've always taken it that way from Kate, it's one of the ways she has of showing Lucy that she loves her and cares about her, always making sure she's hydrated, eating enough and not forgetting to drink her green juice 👀

Because Kate isn't stupid, it's not like she doesn't notice Lucy's face when she brings her healthy food, it's just that she keeps doing it because she knows it's good for her even if Lucy refuses to accept it 🤭

But back to the episode and how Kate had other reasons for her visit, I keep wondering how she must have felt when she found the cupcake in the fridge on a random day that has nothing to do with any anniversary, plus:

"The cupcake you left in our fridge."

I want you to notice how it says "our" and not just "the fridge", because it's theirs, because they live together and share everything 🥰

"It said 'Happy Anniversary' on it." "Yes, it did."

Lucy is so proud of herself for the cupcake and Kate just can't finish understanding

"Happy anniversary my love."

It's just that 🥺 for those eyes I'll take the anniversary any day she wants and commands, it doesn't matter

"It's not our anniversary at all…" "I know" "You do?"

My poor blondie was really trying with everything in her to understand what Lucy was talking about, Kate always tries to do everything according to the rules and her girlfriend on a random day congratulates her on her anniversary knowing it's not, poor Kate was really confused 🥴

And with the "I love you and us" we forgot the confusion and just let ourselves be loved….I mean Kate did 🤭

I will never be happier than when I hear them tell each other that they love each other, knowing that they've gotten to the point where they can just say it with no fear, knowing that their love is reciprocated and they both love each other so much, even with their stuff about not believing on dates

And can we talk for a moment about what it must have been like for Kate to have to open presents on the 23rd and not Christmas? I'd like to know what excuse Lucy used so she wouldn't have to tell her the truth about her superstitions 😂

I couldn't leave this shot out 🥺

Heart eyes 🥰

And we get into the plot of the episode, I love the way Kate sat waiting for Lucy to finish the call, but the moment she heard Lucy mention a murder, she reacts and leans over to give her a nod asking what's going on, always attentive, always willing to help and above all to look out for Lucy's safety

Once again making sure Lucy has everything she needs, she stayed with her, made her coffee, took it to her desk and is trying to comfort her after Lucy is feeling she reached a dead end.

Always looking to support where she can, this is a quality we know about Kate, but watching her work with Lucy, it's just better than all the previous times 🤷🏻‍♀️

And just…

Look at Kate's face of satisfaction and pride after the high five with Lucy and their pun, they are two dummies who share two brain cells and I love them 🥺

I want to take a moment to appreciate Lucy's reaction and change of attitude when she finds out that Joe had a brain injury, the moment she knew that he could be the victim of the whole situation she decided to do things herself and go out and find him, knowing that he could hurt someone else or hurt himself without being aware of this, this is something I loved within the episode (and leaving Kacy aside for a moment) because in my opinion this is the way Jane would act, and in this case we saw Lucy do it. Seeking to find out the whole truth before blaming someone who might be innocent.

That's why she takes the call and tries to convince Jane that she's not in danger, that Joe won't try to hurt her, because she immediately knows how to recognize that he's not a threat, at least not one where he does things viciously or with genuine intent to harm her. All of this and what I tell you I find similar to the way Jane works, speaks to how much Lucy has grown, from episode 13 we see her working alone and not being satisfied until she knows the guilty person is really the guilty one, with each case Lucy becomes more aware, faster, a better agent in general and is just great to watch.

Back to Kacy

Can you imagine that your intention for the night was just to keep your girlfriend company on her night shift so she wouldn't be alone and to make sure she had some dinner and now you are on the phone hearing that she is alone in a closed space with an armed man? that is just what happened to Kate

Aside from the fact that I love seeing her worry and the way Jane knows how to control the situation, I imagine how frustrating it must have been for her to know that Lucy just walked out of the office and now something could happen to her simply because she didn't let anyone else go with her.

1/3 episode 20

#ncis hawaii #kate whistler #lucy tara #kacy #kacy analysis #ncishawaii #kate x lucy

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reddawnmultimuse · 9 months

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. closed starter for @bladedhunter || Uchiha Sasuke

It was dawn and Deidara was walking to the Tsuchikage's Mansion on orders from the Fourth Tsuchikage a.k.a Kurotsuchi, his favourite cousin--for an urgent and important mission.

Sure, an urgent and important mission. Likely a mission no one else wanted like saving a cat out of a tree or walking an old woman home; the missions Deidara had to do because he was trusted to do nothing else despite being a member of the Explosive Corps and "rehabilitated". No, even that got him no respect, be it from his own family or other shinobi. No, no one respected him and never would nor trusted him despite it being over a decade since his "employment" in the Akatsuki.

So, he wasn't expecting much as he entered the Tsuchikage's office. Akatsuchi was there, since he was advisor to the Tsuchikage, and glared at Deidara before whispering something to Kurotsuchi before leaving, purposely bumping into Deidara on his way out. Deidara said nothing nor reacted as he calmly walked over to his cousin's desk. Kurotsuchi supplied him a friendly smile but it fell when not only did the blonde man not acknowledge it but upon looking him over. He looked...not good. He never did this days. But, she said nothing because she knew Deidara knew that so she'd be preaching to the choir.

"Hello, Deidara-nii."

"What's the mission, hn?" Deidara huffed at her, having no patience for pleasantries nor small talk, especially not with her.

Understanding this, Kurotsuchi decided to just get into it. "I have an upmost urgent mission for you. Iwa is under threat--not just Iwa but all nations. We got intelligence from Konoha that there is a new terrorist organization threatening the era of peace. Not just that, but they've adopted the Akatsuki name and may have infiltrated Ame since there's been no government there since the Fourth War."

Deidara snorted crudely and spat. "So?"

Kurotsuchi frowned, a little irked by her cousin's rudeness but did her best to have patience with him--someone has too. "So, there's a possibility they had access to all the Akatsuki's secrets since the old organization's defeat. It could cause a Fifth War."

"Fun. Maybe I'll join them, hn."

Kurotsuchi sighed. "I--we--need you to go in and investigate but also eliminate this new 'Akatsuki'. We believe in good faith that the organization is in its infancy and only has a few members. However, they're S-rank criminals just like the Akatsuki before it," She could already anticipate Deidara rejecting the mission and leaving so she had prepared a back-up plan. "If you go on this mission and are successful, I'll decrease your restitution." As she thought, Deidara perked up at this news.

She knew their grandfather had crippled him with restitution to pay for his destruction of Iwa when he first left the village and to all the victims from the explosions; a quittance he'd never be able to pay back in his natural life. Hell, he could live for a millennium and still be paying. Whilst she couldn't cancel it outright due to their grandfather now being an Elder and would likely veto her decision, she could decrease the payment, if just a little bit.

Despite the tantalizing offer, Deidara milled over it from a moment before deciding to accept it. Afterall, maybe he'd finally be able to save up enough money to eat more than twice a week--or a male uniform. "Fine. I'll go to Ame and off these Akatsuki wannabe's, hn." He begrudgingly said.

"Good. You both are to leave immediately,"

Deidara piqued an eyebrow with a frown. "Both?"

Kurotsuchi gifted him a sheepish smile and gestured at someone in the background. When he turned to look, he expected her to be pointing to Akatsuchi, which wasn't ideal. However, who he saw was much, much worse as his blood instantly ran ice cold.

"No!"

#. gunpowder & gelatine--deidara #. bladedhunter uchiha sasuke #. closed starter

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luveline · 8 months

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first of all, congratulations on 40k! ur so very talented and all of ur stories r so amazing!

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 + 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐨𝐤

can i request fat!reader with hotch? maybe the reader is super anxious about meeting the rest of the team (maybe she’s already met rossi or spence or somebody) because shes worried that they’ll think she isn’t good enough for aaron so they push off them meeting for a while but then aaron gets shot (like in the shoulder or something, nothing major) and the doctors call her bc she’s on his emergency contact?

tysm babe!

There are people crowding Aaron's hospital bed. You can name them all from the photos you've seen alone; Morgan, muscled, his skin a deep sable; Reid, startlingly pale and with hair to his shoulders; and Rossi, or Dave, an older member of the team standing by the door.

Knowing them by looks isn't going to make this easier. Maybe because you know that how you look is the very first thing any of them will notice. You aren't like Aaron's previous partners, but you're here, and you'd really like to see him.

"Hello?" you ask, elbowing open the door.

Aaron looks up, sees it's you with a furrowed brow. "Did someone call you?"

Which is honestly the worst thing he could say. You know you don't look like anything special, but when you get a call from the hospital that your boyfriend's been shot in the shoulder, you rush. "I'm your emergency contact?" you say, unsure.

He frowns. "I didn't want them to call you and scare you. I'm fine."

"If there's ever a time for understating things, now isn't it," says Rossi, extending a hand to you. "David Rossi, nice to meet you."

You smile though acid twists in your stomach. "Hello."

"Derek Morgan," Derek says, offering his swiftly after.

"I'm Spencer, but I don't shake," Spencer says.

It's just as well. You don't have much patience left for shaking hands, easing past the men and their welcoming smiles to your grey boyfriend. You hesitate for a moment before giving in and touching his face. "I really would like to be called, you know, in the future." You kiss his cheek. "Even if it's scary."

"Sorry you had to introduce yourself," he says under his breath.

"Where's Emily?" you ask. You already know Emily, and she'd been so nice to you, you almost wish you'd met her outside of Aaron so that you could be friends.

"Fighting a losing battle with the coffee machine," Rossi says.

You straighten up and hold your hands behind your back. Then, self-conscious, you fold them in front of you. You know what you look like and don't usually worry when you're with the people who love you, but meeting new people brings old wounds to light. What are they thinking? you wonder. Do they think Aaron's settling? And that you're the wrong girl for him?

"I can see why Hotch hasn't introduced us sooner," Derek says. Your heart plummets through your stomach, but he winks and smiles, continuing, "He'd have competition."

(You can't know this, but they've all noticed your insecure shifting. Hotch wouldn't usually love such blatant flirtation between you and another man, but this instance gets a pass.)

"You can all go home now," Aaron says, reaching for you with the hand that isn't forcibly incapacitated.

"Aw, boss," Emily says, elbowing open the door with a blonde behind her, "what fun would that be?" She sees you standing by the monitors and grins. "Hey! I wish we were seeing each other again under different circumstances, but it's so good to see you, oh my god!"

Aaron nudges you forward secretly, his fingers at the small of your back. You step forward without more instruction to give Emily a hug. Over her shoulder, the blonde girl smiles. It's an acute relief that she's not skinny, either.

"Hey, mama, you get anything for me?" Derek asks her.

"I did, but now this beauty is here, you'll have to wait! Hi, I'm Penelope."

She's exceedingly eager to hug you as Emily had.

(Hotch doesn't even care that his shoulder feels like someone poured hot casting iron in the wound, or that he'd really like for you to be hugging him right now rather than Garcia. It's nice to see something he knew was worrying you go smoothly. Nicer still to receive the smile you shoot back over your shoulder as JJ opens the door and his room becomes somehow more overcrowded.

"She's just as cute as you said," Dave says with an approving nod. "You've still got it, Aaron. There's hope for all us old timers yet."

Hotch had called you cute, but you're a hell of a lot more than that. Definitely still got it, he thinks.)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #luveline's 40k party

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raayllum · 5 months

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Moving forward, what do you think is going to be Claudia's motivating Drive?

Viren, at least, was always able to tell himself that he was working for the sake of the Greater Good, but that's not something Claudia has ever cared all that much about-- her first, last, and only real concern has always been her Family. With that pillar removed (not that I think Viren is about to disappear completely, but he's definitely not going to be directly involved with her in quite the same way), what does she have left to fight for?

I mean, obviously Revenge can be a powerful driving motivator-- the whole series kicked off with revenge-induced assassinations, so we know that's not exactly nothing, and I can definitely see it being something pushing Claudia further down her current path.

But (IMHO) the story has also been moving somewhat further away from Cycles of Revenge, and I just can't see that being a strong enough motivator for Claudia when counterbalanced against everything our Heroes are fighting for. (Especially with Soren still holding out hope for her and being a weak chink in her armor.)

What's the piece I'm missing?

In a lot of ways, perpetuating the Cycle has always, indeed, been about seeking Revenge for the loss of loved ones.

Rayla: When I first came here, I was on a quest for revenge. But the minute I saw that egg, everything changed. Now, this is a journey of redemption. / I became so obsessed with revenge that I risked losing the best thing I ever had: you. Ezran: I'm sorry about what happened to your father, and what happened to mine. But we don't have to avenge them. We don't have to strike back. We can't choose peace. Callum: Then it's a cycle. You hurt me, someone will get revenge against the elves. It won't end.

This is also one of the key things that, at first, set Soren and Claudia apart from the bulk of the main cast. At first, Harrow and Viren weren't seeking revenge (the Magma Titan) but then they both succumbed to it (killing Thunder) and it continued to snowball from there. In spite of losing their families, Callum, Rayla, and Ezran chose to shed the cycles of revenge their parents (Harrow and Runaan) had partaken in to try and break it instead.

Conversely, Soren and particularly Claudia have been largely removed from the Cycle of Revenge... until 3x09 and firmly in 5x09. Soren and Claudia lost a family member, but their mother is alive and chose to leave. While they've experienced forms of loss, they've never had to literally grieve a death. Although Soren has complicated feelings about his dad, he's ultimately more relieved than anything else regarding his dad's death ("Dad is dead, Claudia. You don't have to do what he wants anymore"—4x07) and angry/despairing when it's reversed (yelling no in show / Soren snarled. “Why couldn’t you just stay dead?”—TDP Reflections: Strangers).

Aaravos dangled Viren over Claudia's nose like a carrot dangling from a stick, and she followed. He didn't offer her revenge, but a way to save her father. But the same trick won't work twice on her. Claudia isn't going to try to bring Viren back again — it'd be a repeat and wouldn't progress her character any further — but she also can't walk away from Aaravos, because she's our sole primary antagonist outside the mirror and still might have a role in freeing him. And if she walks away from Aaravos, she's also going to be walking out of the plot, and we can't have that. Thus, I think power — and subsequent revenge — is about the only thing Aaravos would have left to offer her.

It gives her an incentive to 1) go after the prison and/or 2) generally do Aaravos' bidding, and if she couldn't defeat the trio without his help the first time, allying herself with him is the biggest way she can level up as a threat in terms of just like, power scaling.

There are also still a few bits of information that Aaravos knows but Claudia doesn't (that Rayla was responsible for Viren's death, and that Viren lied in 3x03; although for the latter, that's more something she couldn't or wasn't willing to accept) that could spur her further into well, going wonderfully apeshit.

Revenge is more of a fine motivator for her in 4x09 (tricking Rayla, although Terry gets her to turn around) and in S5 with the dragon (smirking and smiling about having the upper hand, making it scared of her) and in her altercations with the trio.

So yeah, my vote is on revenge — for better or definitely worse!

Obligatory fanon s6 fic plug in because of Claudia's revenge arc getting underway

#tdp claudia #s6 speculation #predictions #the cycle #ljf613 #idkf i expressed this as eloquently as i wanted to but hopefully it's coherent #thanks for asking #requests #tdp meta #tdp #the dragon prince #claudia #like claudia does have a mean streak to her #it's not massive (she's mostly smug or indifferent when it comes to that shit) but #the 'you made me suffer or worry so now i'm getting even'? yeah definitely there

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muzzleroars · 7 months

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I like to think that Michael and V2 will end up meeting Mirage in a void to guide them to somewhere they will be happy and together forever after death. What do you think?

YES YEA i've been thinking about this lately.....that she meets v2 first, when it shuts down before mike passes, out on an endless beach. it's disoriented at first, though it doesn't react in fear or anger, instead quietly observant in a place so unfamiliar and so...alien. it tries to gather its thoughts and she waits until it can ask measured, but somewhat resigned, questions. she can't offer it much explanation honestly, about what it is now and even what this place is, beyond the reach of god, a place out of bounds. v2 understands that, not too worried about the metaphysical if there's no answers available, its life has been weird enough that it can accept what comes...but then. it thinks about its life, something that seems abstract and distant out here, past reality, yet it grasps at what little is left concrete. its head whips around over the desolate beach, seeing no one but mirage, before abruptly demanding to know where mike is. he couldn't have been that far behind...but all mirage can say is that she doesn't know him. it is free to wait here for as long as it wants since time isn't out here either, so it doesn't really matter. none of it does now and it's not like she has anywhere to be.

still, she tries to give it whatever warning she can when it takes the invitation, that it might wait here infinitely and forever in vain, that she doesn't even know if she can stay with it ad infinitum. but v2 is stubborn, staring out on the horizon like it might see something in perpetually gray clouds that hang over a mist and blur any hard edges of where the water might meet the sky. it's...kind of needy, mirage teases it, though she understands death can be lonely. yet v2 can only operate on what it knows, and what it knows right now is minimal, based on feeling (which is as good as anything out here) that this is its critical junction. wherever it goes now, it's unlikely to find anyone who took the same path. this isn't a world bound in dimensions anymore, hard limits that god set on it (no matter how big those once were) and if it leaves this place...if it leaves this starting point....michael could never follow it. and it can't do that to him. he's sick, when v2 let go, there was barely anything of him left. he couldn't make it on his own. and mirage understands the sentiment then, that they've been together all alone for a long, long time. it would be pointless to offer any further arguments, even the obvious "it's pretty improbable in any system, even one this random, that robots and angels all go to the same place" because. she hardly knows more about it than anyone else, and it seems v2 would stay put here as long as it takes besides. as long as there's hope, however small. machines can be very stubborn like that, so she lets it wait. she sits down beside it as it silently prays like it has dozens of times for michael to come back to it, mirage taking out a book to maybe catch up on her homework. if she ever gets back to class.

the world around them is impassable and nothing changes, v2 the only one that seems able to produce any kind of impact yet unwilling to do so. it doesn't know the time that passes, if it does at all, holding on to the little icon michael gave it a long time ago and curiously, which it never lost in all those years (it was a part of him, of course it would always turn up). yet somehow it's getting tired, the lid of its optical feeling distinctly heavy as its thoughts begin to blur in their endless repetition and its grip loosens bit by bit. so take a break, go to sleep, mirage tells it in their first broken silence in what could be days. before it protests, she assures it everything will be the same when it wakes up, and she'll even pray a couple times for it so the vigil is upheld while v2 grumbles how stupid it is to take a nap when you're dead. but it does, it needs to. it curls up in the sand and mirage keeps by it, kind of glad she doesn't just wink out of existence. everything stays the same too, just like she said, until the wind shifts almost imperceptibly and she closes her book. she looks up to see who she guesses must be michael, settled just beside v2 but letting it sleep, and she quickly understands what it had meant when it spoke of his sickness. no wonder it didn't want to go anywhere. michael asks no questions, though he does apologize for keeping them for so long. he couldn't find his way, and he's actually grateful to see v2 napping since he needs a rest himself - he's long since thrown away his pride on understanding the whole of god's creation, so he wouldn't dare be presumptuous about what lies beyond it. he just guesses it might be a long sojourn, and mirage agrees that's fair enough.

and when v2 wakes, it's greeted with a thousand brilliant shades of purple, covered by iridescent wings to help keep the windblown sand off of it. its own wings instantly burst into green, scrambling over itself to pounce on michael whose arms hold it fast almost on instinct. "here i am". it's the michael v2 met a long time ago, his body restored only so much, still with a shimmering ribcage and abundant blooms but now shining in a radiance it had never gotten the chance to see. there is no rot, no disease, and michael could nearly sob at how he can finally actually feel v2. this is his happiness, at peace with a body in symbiosis with nature and in the body that v2 had loved, the body he, strangely, had been able to heal in. and it's so happy in turn to have the michael it knows without pain, his body now warm and vibrant beside it as it feels his hands smooth over its metal, its plastic and its glass in uncharacteristically eager movements. finally, there is clarity again, to recognize each other after so many years of two failing minds only able to hold on to disjointed ghosts of memories. they're reunited after never having been apart. this moment hangs between them until they're both confident this is their new reality, however long it might last, and v2 asks mirage to lead them wherever they're supposed to go now. she lets them pick the direction and they begin to walk, v2's voice now filling up the silence as michael's touch refuses to leave it.

#THEY ARE TOGETHER FOREVER.....SOBS #i want to do a mini comic for this real real bad #just a couple different scenes...BUT i wanted to get the full idea out here more or less #it's messy!!!! but i'm not normal about them #impossible to properly articulate my thoughts!!!#cake answers #v2 #mirage #michael

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