#❝our names are spoken in hushed whispers❞ || thread.

[briillicnt]

" nightmares no longer wait for sleep. " a sigh drifted past his parted lips, brows narrowing slightly at his own words. his natural easy-going, chill demeanor was replaced by a broody one as he sat back on the couch, the back of his head resting against the cushion, eyes pointed towards the ceiling. if anything, he was exhausted and just needed some sleep. but, sleep was hard to come by with the amount of jobs he had been throwing himself into lately. " is this the bit where i grumble that i need a vacation or is that too much? " too normal.

@miidnighters liked for a small thing.

[itacats]

Under the Shadow of Ghost

FT: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: past trauma, war themes, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: Trying something new with a character that has been plaguing my brain. First time writing with TF141 - feeling like this might be a slow burn kinda thing.

Read Part 2 here! Read Part 3 here! Read Part 4 here! Read Part 5 here! Read Part 6 here! Read Part 7 here! Read Part 8 here! Read Part 9 here!

Part 1: Into the Fold

As the newest member of Task Force 141, I felt the electrifying pulse of adrenaline coursing through my veins, accompanied by an undercurrent of doubt that gnawed at my resolve. The weight of my gear was nothing compared to the weight of the responsibility that now fell upon me. Around me stood the elite – legends whose names alone carried more power than any weapon. Simon "Ghost" Riley was the most enigmatic among them, a figure whose reputation cast a shadow that stretched far beyond his silent presence. The skull mask he wore seemed to be more than just an intimidation tactic – it was a barrier, a reminder that no one was allowed to see the man beneath. His past was a whisper among the team, a dark tale of betrayal, violence, and unimaginable pain. And yet, he stood unflinching, his every movement deliberate, his gaze unreadable.

Beside him was Soap, a man who wore his brash confidence like a badge of honor. His laughter could cut through the tension of any firefight, his jokes and quips serving as the last thread of sanity we often clung to. But beneath that devil-may-care attitude, I knew there was a man as serious and deadly as any soldier I’d ever met. Then there was Gaz – razor-sharp, always on edge, his eyes flicking between targets as if constantly calculating the odds. He was quick-witted and quicker on the trigger, never missing a beat in the heat of battle. And finally, there was Captain Price, a figure larger than life itself. He had the kind of authority that didn’t need to be spoken. It was felt. His leadership was a rock in the storm, and even though he rarely showed emotion, his mere presence was enough to rally the team in the face of impossible odds.

I had been thrown into this firestorm, a greenhorn among giants. Earning their trust would take more than just pulling my weight in battle – it would take resilience, endurance, and a willpower forged in the fires of chaos. I had to prove that I was more than just another soldier assigned to fill a roster spot. I had to show them I was one of them. That I belonged.

My poker face became my greatest weapon, a mask I had perfected long before the battlefield became my home. No one could read the thoughts that tumbled like dice in my mind. The fear, the doubt, the anger – it all stayed hidden behind a façade of calm. But over time, as the sweat, blood, and dust of our missions blurred the days together, I found myself inexplicably drawn to Ghost. There was something about his quiet stoicism that spoke to me, something in the depth of his silence that resonated with the scars I carried – scars that ran deeper than the physical.

Ghost was a riddle wrapped in pain, a man shaped by horrors that would have shattered anyone else. I could see it in the way he moved, deliberate and unyielding, as if every step was an act of defiance against the demons that haunted him. His eyes, always obscured behind the mask, told stories I would never hear. The hushed rumors that swirled around him – the torture, the betrayal, the graves he had crawled out of – only heightened the sense of mystery. Yet, despite it all, he never faltered. He was the kind of soldier you could follow into hell without hesitation. But there was a heaviness to him, a burden he carried that no one could touch, and in some way, I understood that.

Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t help but feel a connection to him, even though I knew he’d never acknowledge it. Ghost didn’t form attachments – not in the way that others might. He lived in a world where connections were weaknesses, and weakness could - no - would get you killed. But still, in those moments between missions, in the fleeting glances and shared silences, I saw a flicker of something familiar. A reflection of my own struggles, my own battles fought in the shadows of my mind.

I knew better than to pry into his past. Men like Ghost didn’t share their stories willingly. They were locked behind walls so high and thick that no one could scale them. But in some way, just being near him made me feel like I wasn’t alone in my fight. Maybe that was the draw – the unspoken understanding between soldiers who had seen too much, lost too much, and yet continued to stand, unwavering, in the face of it all.

Every mission we embarked on was another chapter in a story that felt both infinite and fleeting. The gunfire, the explosions, the brief moments of camaraderie – they all blended together into a tapestry of survival. And in the middle of it all was Ghost, a figure who seemed more legend than man. I was determined to earn his respect, to prove that I wasn’t just another cog in the machine, but a soldier worthy of standing alongside the infamous Task Force 141. 

In the end, it wasn’t about being fearless. It was about understanding that fear was inevitable, but what mattered was how you handled it. Ghost had his way. And I had mine. But perhaps, in the chaos of war, we weren’t so different after all.

Read Part 2 here!

I want to turn this into a multi-part series. If you have any suggestions on how to improve for these guys let me know! Thought I might give these guys a writing shot and see how it turns out.

Thanks for reading this far💙

[briillicnt]

" surprised to run into you here. " though, he's not all that surprised. the grill was kind of the social hub for everyone in town. from the supernatural to the note so supernatural - they all seemed to migrate here it seemed. " can i get you anything i'm feeling somewhat generous today. "

@elenaloveablekotsala liked for a small thing.

[briillicnt]

 “ forever is an awfully long time, alec — “ he stated simply, looking up at the male. “ — you think you could deal with me for that long? “ he knew that he was stubborn, and could get lost in his head at times but that didn’t alter how he felt about the other. “ i’m willing to try if you are. “ 

@brknghrts continued from here.

[briillicnt]

“ i’m not really a huge fan of cakes. “ or any sweets for the matter. he would eat them but, he was more into savory treats. his family always thought he was weird for not wanting a cake on his birthdays growing up. “ but, i’ll still check it out. “

his gaze flicked back to the waves ahead when he asked his question, almost expecting it at this point. he was beginning to gather that the other male was a little nosey and though it didn’t bother him much, he knew from experience to keep quiet as much as he could and to only give him some information — not all. “ i’m a freelance photographer. “ not really a lie since he was but, he rarely traveled for it. “ i go where they need me. “ he looked back at him, shrugging at his next question. “ i don’t mind it. it gives me an opportunity to meet new people and see different cities and small towns. its the driving part that gets a little repetitive. “

"It's good, I like it. They have really nice cakes in the display case sometimes."

That, at least, is more interesting to Flynn, and he tilts his head slightly in the direction of the other man. He knows kind of where Washington is, but he's never really left the small radius from where he washed up. "What kind of work do you do that has you travelling so much?"

It must be something interesting, Flynn thinks, since most jobs he knows of keep you pretty well tied to one area. "Do you enjoy travelling all the time?"

[briillicnt]

“ do you understand — this is dangerous. “ he grabbed his bag full of supplies and weapons, tossing it into the bed of his truck, slamming the tailgate shut. “ you shouldn’t be here. “ he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. “ ric would kill me if he knew that you were here. “ he turned towards her, emerald gaze finally meeting hers. “ why are you even here? “

@devilsanddarlings liked for a starter for isabella.

[briillicnt]

he pressed his shoulder against his phone, holding it up to his ear as he tried his best to tidy up the hotel room he was currently staying in due to yet another hunt. he pushed his weapons case underneath the bed with the tip of his boot, making sure it was well hidden underneath. “ so, keep talking — “ he paused, replacing his shoulder with his hand to make holding his phone up to his ear a little easier for him. “ — cause i love to hear your voice. “ he chuckled lightly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

spotify wrapped starter — @miidnighters sent ’ 🎁 / for harts ’

[briillicnt]

“ as long as i get most of the honey garlic, i’ll be fine. “ he was going to try his best to keep the rest of the night as fun and light-hearted as much as he could. he knew the previous topic of conversation was a downer and it wasn’t something that neither one of them should fixate on. relationships were weird, and it was something that he didn’t seek out himself. his last date as a with a vampire and that really didn’t go all that well considering he had zero idea that she was a vampire until someone brought it up. and before that, his last date was with someone back home and that didn’t go as planned either. sure, he dated the girl back home but, it didn’t go as planned and it wasn’t really a relationship he liked bringing up. in fact, he was pretty sure he had never told alice about it, and that was saying something considering he practically told her everything about his life before here. well, everything that mattered at least. 

“ oh — right, he’d probably say no to serving you anymore. “ he sighed, reaching forward to finish off the rest of the beer in his glass. “ you know what? i’m done drinking for now too. if we want to continue, we can just do it whenever we get back to my place. “ he shrugged, pushing his glass off to the side. “ honestly, i think a milkshake would taste disgusting with either of those two flavors. but, maybe buffalo would be tolerable if you want a milkshake that bad. “

[ @briillicnt ]

She ignores the chasm of loneliness that opens up, threatening to swallow her whole. It's easier just to pretend it doesn't exist when she's out, sharing a table with Tristan on a relatively steady night at the Grill. Here, she can act like it's not going to suck her down into its depths the minute she's home alone in the echoing crypt of her house. Romantic love's not the be all and end all--especially when the kind that feels mostly unrequited, if it can even really be called love at all--but there's something to be said for having someone to share a bed with some of the time.

"--Half salt and pepper and half honey garlic?" she suggests, turning her head to make eye contact with Tristan. "Or do you want something spicier? Buffalo? I don't mind..."

"You just told Matt to cut me off," she reminded him, settling back into the rhythm of their outing. "But he might give you another round, if you want one. I'm thinking I might go with sweet tea or, oh, maybe a milkshake. What goes better with chocolate ice cream, honey garlic or buffalo?"

[neelslarsen]

closed starter w. @dcrlingw​

Apesar de saber perfeitamente bem que não poderiam sair dos lugares designados para o baile em si, Neels além de ver acima da lei — por motivos que não vinham ao caso — também acreditava que não seria de todo o mal dar uma olhada nos cômodos do andar superior, com a desculpa no fundo de sua mente de que queria ver o quão bem decorado estavam os outros ambientes também. Não tinha um lugar determinado quando começou a olhar pelas portas entreabertas, analisando qual dos lugares lhe parecia mais interessante e, honestamente falando, mais silencioso também. Afinal, apesar de gostar de bailes formais como o que estava, ouvir o mesmo tipo de música por momentos a fio era de torturar qualquer um. Seus olhos foram prontamente atraídos pela biblioteca e ele não hesitou em entrar no cômodo em questão, caminhando sem pressa pelos corredores lotados de prateleiras, até chegar ao centro do lugar. De imediato, se deparou com Clementine e riu sem humor. “Ótimo.” O comentário pesado em cinismo, por saber exatamente os sentimentos que a outra tinha por si, acabou soando sem grandes disfarces. “Clementine! Bom te vez, faz tempo, né?”

[briillicnt]

“ and my shoulders weigh more than i can take. “ he sighed, not usually the type that would just open up on a whim. but, things were starting to build up and he was getting pulled in every direction. it was just becoming too much. “ i can’t fucking take it. “ 

spotify wrapped starter — @ask-alicelockwood sent ' 🎁 '

[neelslarsen]

closed starter w. @krmzi​

O álcool que corria em seu sangue trazia ainda mais desenvoltura social para Neels. Usualmente bastante aberto, mesmo que nem sempre honesto, quando estava levemente embriagado a coisa se acentuava ainda mais. Com a garrafinha de cerveja em mãos, ele vagou os olhos pelo ambiente de luzes amareladas e móveis amadeirados, se atraindo imediatamente pelo jogo de dardos, que parecia não estar recebendo muita atenção naquela noite. Bebeu um gole longo de sua cerveja, a deixando apoiada em uma mesa alta e pegando os três dardos na mão. O primeiro tiro foi certeiro, no entanto definitivamente não teria a mesma graça jogar sozinho. Olhou ao redor novamente, seus olhos recaindo sobre Crimson e um sorriso num misto de interesse e desafio se delineando em seus lábios quase imediatamente. “Hey!” Chamou com certa diversão em seu timbre. “Aposto um shot que eu ganho de você.” O convite era evidenciado, chegando a oferecer um dos dardos para ela. “Deixo até você começar.”

[briillicnt]

“ what — no, i’m not lost. “ he smiled softly, finally switching back to his native tongue. “ sorry, i haven’t been able to speak french in a long time, not since high school. “ he wished that he had been able to speak more often but, no one really spoke the language anymore. and if they did, it was because they were learning before they went on vacation. “ i can switch back if i need to, in case you don’t understand what i’m saying now… “ he should’ve thought about that before. 

"Je m'appelle Maggie," she replied with a small smile of her own. "Tu es perdu, ou quoi?" She couldn't think of many other reasons he would need someone who spoke French. And it wasn't as if she met many on the street who spoke it, either.

[briillicnt]

continued from here x

he wasn't really expecting anyone to ask about his past. nor did he expect someone to ask ' why was he a hunter? '. it wasn't a question that came up often, if at all. but, here it was being asked by her, a fellow hunter, and someone that he could only suspect had a past that she wanted to keep buried as well. " right, well, how about another round? " he said after a few awkward moments of silence. he finished what was left out of his bottle, and looked over at her, offering her the smallest smile he could possibly muster. " this ones on me. "

[pmy95]

starter for @fmdartemisia​ for: secret siblings pre-chuseok gathering filming

miyeon’s eyes dart from person to person, staring to feel overwhelmed. there’s too many people that are too close to her. nobody in her immediate surroundings knew her well enough to know exactly when miyeon was reaching her limit. where is she? where is sia? the desperation of the voice inside her head bleeds into her facial expression as she searched for the other. she was the only person there who knew miyeon like the back of her hand and didn’t require much of an explanation.  once she was spotted, miyeon walked over and placed herself close enough for her own comfort. “sorry if i’m too close. i can’t handle it anymore.”

in moments like these, she wishes she was back home and far away from her life as an idol. while pursuing , sometimes it was too much. “i didn’t want today to go like this. i planned to approach you saying something like, ‘i hope you haven’t corrupted sooah’, but today’s not a good day for me.” an understatement that often left miyeon’s mouth these days, as the bad days are getting worse and have been outnumbering the good days. she sighed, not wanting to address it further. “when are you free? since i’m feeling homesick, i want to visit our brothers. it’s been too long.” 

[neelslarsen]

closed starter w. @waittwhat​

Verdade seja dita, Neels nunca foi do tipo de gerar e criar arrependimentos em razão de seus feitos. Tinha crença bruta de que fazia o melhor que conseguia, na época de seus acontecimentos. Infelizmente, para seu desconforto, tudo que tinha acontecido entre Astrid e ele era uma grande exceção para aquele crer todo. Claro que ela não deveria querer vê-lo nem pintado de ouro e, provavelmente, quando ele aparecesse na casa dela ou na sorveteria, teria que lidar com sua irmã raivosa e, sendo sincero, era algo que até aquele momento queria evitar. Acontece que paciência não faz parte do rol de qualidades que o compunham e ele recobrou grande parte da coragem sem sequer saber de onde. Não sabia o motivo de a querer ver, tampouco o aconteceria quando ele entrasse no estabelecimento das irmãs Sveen, mas ao menos tinha uma pulseira fina que Astrid tinha deixado cair enquanto eles estavam no circo e usaria isso de desculpas para falar com ela. Portanto, não pensou muito antes de descer de seu carro e passar pela porta da sorveteria. Rumou diretamente ao balcão em que ela estava, apoiando os antebraços por ali sem dar importância ou atenção para possíveis filas ou ocupação. “Addie, preciso falar com você, tá ocupada?”

[briillicnt]

“ yeah — i want you to trust me. “ there was no hidden motive behind his words. he was being genuine with her, despite what and who she was. it had always been known that he didn’t like vampires, and that he didn’t trust them, but there was always something about the mikaelson sibling that he admired. maybe it was her strength, or how loyal she was. he didn’t really know. but, the point was that he didn’t despise her, and in a lot of ways, he trusted her. which was saying a lot. “ well then, let’s come up with a plan to get us and everyone else out of this mess. “ he suggested, giving her a small reassuring smile before he took a step back, trying to think. “ ric has a bunch of old traps he never used tucked away in the shed. maybe we can look into using one of those? “ 

Trust.

That word again. The thing that everybody in her life seemed to want from her. She was staring for a while, processing what he was asking of her. "you want me to trust you.. just like that?". With no proof, of actual idea in place? It seemed like a stupid thing to do, but Rebekah felt somewhat different this time. It wasn't her heart on the line, or even her life, for once installing trust in somebody else wasn't destined to have her burnt at the end of it. "I suppose WE have nothing to lose in trying to figure it out".