#Generation kill x reader

[wcters]

𝗣𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦

pairing: nate fick x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k+

summary: you and nate hated not being able to act like a couple sometimes, but you never broke the rules . . . at least you tried not to

warnings: established relationship, angst, weapons, swearing, sexual innuendos, some outdated wording, war, war language, wounds, blood, violence, etc | this is based on the fictional characters from the series generation kill, not the actual war veterans. this is no way intended to hurt or disrespect the veterans.

You knew what you were signing up for when you joined the marines: stress, rough work, misogyny, mostly men, and passing moments.

You had met Nate Fick when you were a teenager. You had met in high school through mutual friends and you had clicked. Soon enough he got the courage to ask you out and it's been the same ever since. You'd been through everything together. You'd graduated together, you moved with him to Dartmouth College, and signed up for the marines together. Seemed fit that you were stationed together.

You felt good knowing you were fighting for a good cause, but you never thought it would be this hard. Yes, you see and work with him everyday, but you don't get to kiss him, hug him - even hold his hand. Sometimes, when you both managed to sneak away, you'd get some time to catch up and act like a couple, but after that it's back to coworkers. You hated that, but you never broke the rules.

The sound of the Humvee's engine lulled you into a sense of calm. It never really was calm, but it did feel nice being in the one place you recognized. Ray was rambling about something stupid while Brad looked like he was just about ready to shoot him. Trombley was with the gun, probably tired of Ray's rambling too, and the reporter was asleep beside you.

"How much ripped fuel have you ingested?" Brad's voice broke you from your trance. You snorted, "too much. He's going to be shorting out pills." Ray laughed, lack of sleep clear, "I'm on it like a motherfucker Brad! At this point, I think my whole stomach is those fucking pills!" You looked to Evan and rolled your eyes. "No more of that shit." Brad told Ray. "Yeah, you'll overdose. Even though that would be great, we need a driver."

Ray started ranting again while you got into the least neck-breaking position you could and tired to fall asleep. You had gotten used to his insane rambles and it lulled you to sleep.

When you finally work up, the sun was out and you were still in the vehicle. "Y/n, you're finally awake after 50 fucking hours." Brad said as he saw you sit up. "Damn, I thought you were dead. I wanted to put Rudy in your place so I could see his beautiful gay face every time I looked back there instead of your hideous one." Ray added, looking at you through the mirror.

“Hideous? Wow Ray, that's a big word. I didn't know you knew words like that, let alone speak anything other than the simplest terms out there." Before he could rebuttal, Brad was on the radio. "Hitman Two, this is Two One. Do you want my victor to provide overwatch on the northeast corner of the M.S.R?" "Roger that. This is Hitman Two. All Hitman Victors align of Two One." Nate's  voice was heard through the radio and you smiled when you heard it.

“We're not done this conversation you bitch." Ray pointed at your reflection. You just posted back.

Your Humvee pulled into the group of cars and it stopped. You opened the door and got out, stretching your arms and legs as you did so. You had seen Nate when you passed by so you made it your mission to find him. Right when you got close, you heard the sound of tires on cement. You turned your head towards the sound and saw two white trucks coming towards you.

“Sir, I observe men with A.K.S. They're in the lead vehicle." Rudy explained as you leaned down with your gun out. "Hitman, this is Hitman Two. We have two victors with armed Iraqis approaching. How copy?" Nate spoke into the radio. "Hitman, solid copy." "Hitman, I am seeing armed Iraqis in civilian clothes in white pickups marked with red diamonds."

“We should smoke 'em, sir!" Someone called out from behind you. You did a slight chuckle. Only a marine would be this desperate. "Hitman Two, this is Hitman. Interrogative. Can you . . . Can you wave them off? Over." A voice replied back. You looked to Rudy in front of you and raised your eyebrow. He did the same. "Hitman, this is Two. These are armed Iraqis in marked Victors with weapons pointed at us. Over." Nate was persistent with what he was saying and probably thought the same thing as you and everyone else did.

“R.O.E. States uniformed soldiers only, and they should be firing at us." This time, you turned back around to look at Nate and made eye contact with him. "This is Two. I'm requesting to at least snatch one victor, find out who these guys are. Over." "Negative. Wave 'em off." "Hitman out."

A couple of voices rang out saying things like "this sucks!" and "what the fuck?" until it was silenced with the sound of A.K going off. You stayed still while the marines shot at them while they drove off, and didn't realize anything was wrong until there was a hand on your shoulder. "You okay, y/n? You haven't moved." Right when you turned to face Nate you felt the pain in your side and groaned. You dropped your gun on the ground and instinctively put your hand to you side, then pulled it off. Red.

Nate must've realized this too as he caught you before you fell backwards. He sat down and pulled your head into his lap, his hand going to where your bullet hole was. "Corpsman! Shit, shit, shit. Corpsman!" You moaned in pain as he hand pressed harder and his yelling caused a headache. "I know honey, I know it hurts." You mumbled out a Nate as you started getting delirious. He slapped you cheek lightly to keep you awake. When your vision was clear for a couple seconds, you saw Doc Bryan.

“Hey y/n. You doing okay?" He asked as he grabbed a bandage from his bag. "Great." You joked with slurred speech. That was the last thing you said before you passed out. While you were out, Nate was worried. Probably the most anxious he had been in his entire life, but he managed to compose himself and lead his group. He watched as you were taken away in a stretcher to the Doc's Humvee.

Nate didn't see or hear from you again for a week or two, which felt like forever. He hated not knowing how you were. Doc Bryan had assured him that you would be fine, that it wasn't too bad, but Nate being your boyfriend worried no matter what the man said.

He was sitting and talking to Brad while the mail had finally arrived. He didn't really expect anything, and was surprised when one was dropped on his lap. He picked it up and noticed the handwriting on the front. It was yours.

"Y/n?" Brad asked him. "Yeah. At least I think so. That's her handwriting." Nate replied. Brad patted him on the back and got up. "Well, if you right her back let her know we miss her. And that we need her back to get Ray to shut the fuck up." Nate laughed at that and began to open the letter.

"Dear Nathan,

It's me. I think you would've figured that out from the handwriting on the front. Sorry I couldn't write you sooner, I've been in the hospital and haven't been able to get stamps. I'm doing good. It hurts, but doesn't hurt more than being away from your stupid face.

As much as I hate to say it, I miss Ray's stupid rambling about how pussy would solve the war and Brad's hate for country music. Hope they're doing well, and hope Brad can get Ray to shut the fuck up.

I also hate to say I miss out passing moments. They kept me sane out there. They were what I was waiting for everyday. I miss your touch, your smell, your face.

I've been wearing your shirts to bed. They still smell like you, without sweat and dirt. It feels weird being home, especially without you. I've been keeping up with the news and it's sounding like it'll end in the next couple months. I don't think I'll be able to come back. I'll keep writing you though, and when you get internet, maybe send you something else.

Don't let your hair out too long, and don't get shot. Who else is going to keep those stupid fucknuts in line.

Love you,

Y/n.”

He smiled and closed the letter, shoving it in his pocket. God he couldn't wait to see you, in real life, or in a picture that he would make good use of.

[dipperscavern]

hi hello!!! are there any generation kill fans out there i call to the wind

[tetragonia]

I keep reading (y/n) as why-end instead of inserting my own name😭

[hitman-two]

Ficklist (Masterlist)

[Radio static] All Hitman Victors, this is Hitman Two Actual, be advised that our ROE remains in place as we roll through Tumblr Territory.

𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬: ▸ Grace x Doc Bryan ▸ Humvee Roadtrip with Brad and Ray ▸ Nothing Homoerotic, Sir...

𝐃𝐨𝐜 𝐱 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ▸ Amazing Grace (Ongoing series) ▸ Bouquet of Flowers 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐱 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐞 ▸ Of Thunder and Fireworks (AO3) | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 ▸ The Jalapeno and Cheesy Tears 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐤: ▸ Smutty HCs 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭: ▸ Smutty HCs ▸ Smut Request (Scheduled to write) 𝐃𝐨𝐜 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐚𝐧 ▸ Smutty HCs 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐖𝐲𝐧𝐧 ▸ Gunny x Nate's Sister HC (Scheduled to write) 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫 ▸ 𝐑𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 ▸ Smutty HCs ▸ One-Shot Requested (Scheduled to write, changes might occur)

[ferally-ships]

hi :) are you working on anything rn?

Hi Sweet Anon! There's a small list..and given you came to my personal blog, which is a mess of multiple fandoms, I'm not sure which fandom you came from so I'll give you a run-down...

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: @lieutenant-speirs ▸ Lᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ Pʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ (Lɪᴘᴛᴏɴ); 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸ Sɢᴛ. Mᴀʀᴛɪɴ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Cᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ (Pʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡ ʜᴇʀᴇ); 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸ Sick Lipton, Caring Speirs (This idea) 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 ▸ Malarkey Needs a Hug drabble (𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @liebgotts-lovergirl) 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 ▸ Asks in general - 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋: @hitman-two ▸ Amazing Grace content (Doc Bryan x Grace) 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸ Brad Smut (Requested twice!) 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸Ray or Walt request 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸ Brad x Reader (Female Reporter) request 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 - 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍: [𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜]

[atlabeth]

law school hotch 🫶

[agir1ukn0w]

yes I'm still on my "ridley scott you'll pay for what you did to my boy geta, and also what tf have you done to his brother" bullshit

[cerise-on-top]

Can I request Rudy (maybe AleRudy poly??? You decide lolz) x a female ( you can choose not to write this as I know you write mostly gender neutral) reader who proves The Whole toxic masculinity thing wrong as a strong (physically and mentally) independent woman? Like she is strong and can defend herself and she does things that most men thinks she can’t do? (Like carrying heavy things, etc.)

Thank you!!

Hello! This is more Rodolfo centric, which I hope you don't mind! But Alejandro is there too, of course :>

AleRudy with a Strong!Independent!Fem!S/O

Alejandro would have a field day with you, Rodolfo would still be a little bit concerned. Though, that is not to say he wouldn’t like it. I think you’d be a certain kind of awakening for him, especially if you’re pretty muscular too. Rodolfo would have never thought he’d find a muscular woman this hot, but here we are. Both Alejandro and Rodolfo would sometimes have conversations about you when you’re at work. Alejandro would know just how capable you are and would allow you to do just about anything, even if he would offer you his help. Nothing wrong with helping your lovely girlfriend lift some heavy things as it gets done a bit faster that way. Rodolfo wouldn’t believe you to be weak, not in the slightest. Especially not with your kind of personality and body, but he’d still insist on him doing some of the things at first, such as carrying heavy things or scaring away some sleazebags. He’ll tell you a little bit about how he views the world, how he’s supposed to be the one protecting you, but when you just laugh and tell him that you can handle yourself, he actually gets kind of embarrassed. At some point he’ll realize that yes, indeed you can handle yourself in just about any situation life throws at you, but that doesn’t mean he won’t voice his concerns. Picking him up is actually kind of fun, he’ll go completely quiet and hold onto your shoulders for dear life. At first he’d feel kind of bad, he’s the one who’s supposed to pick you up. But, as mentioned previously, you being this strong actually does things to him. It would take a while, but he’d come to trust you more and more with some things that he thought women shouldn’t really be doing. If you work a men dominated job too, then Rodolfo will just shut up, actually. You’re a mechanic? He doesn’t know jack shit about cars. You’re an IT-technician? Computers hate this man, he always needs help since some error comes up. Once the initial embarrassment is over, he won’t hesitate to come to you for help. It’s for the best you work on this since he has no clue what he’s doing in those fields anyway.

Alejandro is super chill with you being strong and independent. Sure, sometimes he’d love to just watch a scary movie with you and have you cling to him in fear, but you carrying those big tires is also pretty nice. He always thought he’d be more into a shy and timid girl, but you’re actually pretty nice too. He wouldn’t fuss over you as much as Rodolfo, he’d just let you do your thing. If you need help, he’ll help, but he won’t be overbearing. Besides, he could probably learn a lot of things from you. You’re an electrician? Awesome, amor! The GFCI just turned off again, could you do something about it? He’ll sometimes talk to Rodolfo about how he should put more trust into you. Just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you can’t be a total badass and strong like them. Alejandro will also egg you on to pick Rodolfo up since he wants to see him flustered beyond comparison. He loves you both, but there’s just something so fun about a flustered Rodolfo.

[just-null]

HI JAY!! i just saw ur post abt giving u ideas as to what costumes to give nori and omg my brain automatically gave me an image

NORITOSHI AS CAT!!!! like with pink paws and white fur like in a onesie 😭😭 omg he would look sooo cuteeeeeeee aldoe he acts like a black cat but he physically he would suit a white cat's costume so much better omg imagine him with a pout complaining abt it like he wanted to be something else but u suggested that idea and he cant say no OWNFKDKDKKDDK

HI ROSE!! you're so fucking fr for this. i finished this so fast i felt like it wasnt enough so i messed around and doodled some more.. maybe i'll continue doing this with some of the costume ideas? who knows.

all i knows is how cute this cat boy is

[Doodles under the cut!]

hes.. he's so fucking cute as a cat... I see you're on the side that sees Noritoshi as cat like. interesting. I 100% approve.

I couldn't choose between black cat or white so I went with both and a mix... I fucking. I can't with your mind. it's so big. the pouting got me fucked up bro. you're so fucking fr.................

noritoshi is a very serious and very hard working heir. its why his toe beans are so tantalizing

[lostinthewiind]

Generation Kill fic requests you say? Can I get a Ray Person where sometimes he accidentally hits the radios buttons and the reader overhears his rants and comes back with some of her own? Or a Nate Fick angry and it triggers an “oh no he’s hot angry” reaction that the reader can’t hide?

Hotheaded

Nathaniel "Nate" Fick - Generation Kill

A/N: I couldn't choose so I decided to combine both prompts into one fic :)

Rating: 16+ (language)

"-and if you take a moment to really think about it, it makes total sense!" Ray's sped up rant continued over the comms, no doubt thanks to the amount of ripped fuel he had ingested over the past 24 hours. "This war isn't about money or oil or any of it! We're here because of sex!"

Slamming your head back against the headrest, you let out an exasperated groan. "How long has he been going on like this for?" You turned to look at Rudy.

Rudy glanced down at his watch. "About 10 minutes."

"Good God! How does he not know he's broadcasting this to everyone?" You slammed your boot down against the humvee floor and grabbed the receiver. "That's it. I can't listen to him anymore."

Rudy chuckled under his breath. "You tell him, little lady."

"Would the Whiskey Tango individual who insists on ranting about sex and his deranged theories about the origin of this war over the comms please shut the fuck up?" you snapped into the receiver. "I don't feel like listening to your family-fucking twang for the entire time we are sitting here."

You could hear a couple of laughs escape the humvees directly in front of and behind your own. For a few seconds, you thought Ray had actually caught on to how annoying he was being and shut up. Then the comms crackled to life once more.

"You sound just like the government, trying to silence the truth because you're scared about what it means for your good American values!"

"Ray, you wouldn't know the truth if it slipped into your bedroom at night and tickled your prostate!" you shot back. You weren't backing down until the idiotic RTO shut his goddamn trap. "And even if this war was about sex, what would you know about it when you look like someone who'd only get some through an unfortunate keep-it-in-the-family arranged marriage or if a blind woman took immense pity on you?"

More laughter. Even Rudy, who usually tried to stay out of the constant back and forth, couldn't help but crack a smile.

You could tell Ray was ramping up for another response, but before he got the chance, Lieutenant Fick's voice sounded over the comms. "Will you two idiots keep your lover's spat off of company-wide comms so the rest of us can sit here in peace and wait for further orders?"

You swallowed hard. "Sorry, sir," you apologized.

Ray's voice didn't follow. He didn't even apologize. Then you heard a distant shouting.

"Hey!"

You and Rudy shared a confused look. Leaning out the side of your humvee window, you spotted Ray doing the same thing at the front of the convoy, shouting back at you.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you shouted back.

"I get plenty of pussy, thank you very much!" Ray clearly wasn't done with the conversation, comms or not. "I wouldn't expect you to understand though, considering not even Manimal would get near your salmon-scented cavern, and he'd fuck anything with a hole!"

"Unfortunately, not all of us are born with a built-in dating pool—you know, that thing that regular people call the family tree! Or, in your case, the goddamn family circle!"

Ray furrowed his brows. You could see his mouth moving a mile a minute, but due to the sudden increase in wind, you couldn't make out what he was saying.

"What?" you called.

He tried again. Still nothing. Frustrated, he disappeared back into his humvee. "You keep telling yourself that, and when you're back home with no other choice but to sell your Iraq-worn body and dusty pussy on the corner, you'll remember what your old pal Ray said about the reason for war," he said, resorting to comms again.

"I think this is the longest I've ever heard him bicker with someone," Rudy pointed out. "You really know how to get him going."

"And I'm about to shut him down for good." You picked up the receiver one final time. "Ray, your unhinged theories are a direct result of your unique and equally unfortunate makeup of chromosomes, which could only come from someone whose mother is also their aunt! And when-"

The receiver was suddenly snatched out of your hand before you could end your finishing blow. With a sheepish smile on your face, you turned to see Lieutenant Fick standing outside your humvee, receiver in hand and a scowl on his face.

"Corporal, what the fuck did I just tell you?" Nate used his free hand to grab you by the collar of your uniform.

"Not to argue with Ray over the comms," you replied.

"That's right, Corporal." Nate leaned into the humvee, his bright blue eyes burning holes into your soul. "Now, tell me, are you just too fucking stupid to know how to follow orders or do you find joy in purposefully pissing me off?"

You felt a heat rise to your cheeks at the sight of Lieutenant Fick so angry. You had never seen him filled with this much rage, and for whatever reason, it was hot. Super hot.

You gently shook your head. "Neither, sir."

"Then why the fuck did I hear your voice over the comms again just now?"

"No excuse, sir."

"What's the matter? No rebuttal for your old pal Ray-Ray?"

You watched as Nate's face twisted into a horrible mixture of disappointment, anger, and exhaustion. "Ray, get the fuck off the comms before I come up there and throttle you through your humvee's window!" he snapped over the comms before throwing the receiver back into the humvee and releasing your collar. "I swear to God, it's like babysitting with you two."

You swallowed hard when Nate removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair. If this was turning you on so much, maybe Ray was right; maybe you did need to get laid more. Or maybe the Iraqi heat was getting to you more than usual today. Either way, you couldn't tear your eyes away from your Lieutenant.

"Something to say?" Nate caught you staring. "Or are you just getting a kick out of watching me snap?"

"No kicks here, sir," you assured him.

"Then what is it, Corporal?" he demanded. "Come on, spit it out."

You turned back to look at Rudy, silently pleading with him to save you. When all he did was shrug, you slumped your shoulders. "I really don't think I should say, sir."

"I didn't ask you to think. If I remember correctly, you attempting to have an original thought was what caused this whole thing in the first place. Everybody knows Ray rants. And everybody knows that if you just ignore it, he'll eventually stop. So, now that we're here, spit it the fuck out."

You were screwed. You just had to say it. "It's just that you're very attractive when you're angry, sir. That's all."

That stopped Nate's anger in its tracks. "What the fuck did you just say?" His voice had dropped into a low whisper.

You drew in a deep breath. "Did you want me to repeat it, sir?"

"No, I unfortunately heard you the first time." Nate looked over your shoulder at Rudy, who was looking out the window and pretending that he wasn't listening. "Corporal, switch with my driver. It appears you need some more direct supervision."

With that, Nate walked back to his vehicle at the rear of the convoy.

"Oh, my God, I cannot believe I actually admitted that!" You buried your face in your hands. "Why didn't I just say something else? Literally anything else?!"

"I don't know." Rudy was clearly amused by your misfortune. "You're right though. He is very attractive when he's angry."

"Right?!" You started to pack up your gear. "Well, wish me luck. If I don't make it to the next stop, you know who killed me."

Rudy gave a mock salute. "It's been an honour serving with you."

The walk of shame back to Nate's vehicle felt like an eternity, and when you passed the other driver, you didn't dare make eye contact. After stowing away your gear, you climbed into the driver's seat and settled in. Nate watched you like a hawk the entire time.

"I'm sorry about arguing with Ray over the comms, sir," you apologized once more, hoping it would help you get back in your Lieutenant's good graces.

"No apology needed, Corporal," he told you. He was much calmer now; back to the regular Lieutenant Fick you were used to dealing with. "I can't count the number of times I wish I could have done what you did. Ray and his fucking rants are the main reason I cannot wait to get out of this damn war. I'd quite literally rather take a bullet to the chest."

You couldn't help but laugh. "I'm sure we'd all appreciate watching you tear him a new one some time."

"Maybe," he sighed.

"- it's lack of pussy that fucks countries up. Lack of pussy is the root fucking cause of all global instability. If more hajis were getting quality pussy, there'd be no reason for us to come over here and fuck 'em up like this! 'Cause a nut-bustin' haji is a happy haji." Ray had once again accidentally turned the comms on while ranting to his passengers.

You watched as Nate gritted his teeth. Then, completely unexpected, he picked up the receiver and handed it to you. "Tell that fucker to shut his hole, Corporal."

"But, sir, I thought ..." you trailed off.

"I'm not the only one who's hot when they're angry." He smirked, and when you finally took the receiver from him, he sat back and got ready to enjoy the show.

"Pretty sure I said 'attractive', sir," you corrected. "But hot works too."

[inglourious-imagines]

Hello! I'm so glad to have stumbled on your blog! I'd like to request anything for Doc Bryan of GenKill please. I can and will wait forever for any Doc content 😅 I saw your prompt list and I think

1. I fucking hate everyone. But you, you’re the only person I don’t hate.

would suit him quite well HAHA but prompt number 3 and prompt number 9 would be quite sweet too 😁 anyway, anything you write I will gratefully read and love. Thanks so much!

Life Vest (Doc Bryan x GN!Reader)

Requested by: anon

Prompt: #1 - I fucking hate everyone. But you, you're the only person I don't hate.

Summary: You're a Corpsman with the Recon Marines, working alongside doc Bryan. After one tough afternoon, you two finally (somewhat ;)) talk.

Taglist: in my bio

Warnings: child's death although it doesn't actually happen in this fic

A/N: I don't study medicine so I might have fucked up some facts about certain things so apologies if I did. Thank you for your request!

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With every passing second, more and more locals are appearing, surrounding the group of Marines in the middle of some Iraqi town almost none of them know how to actually pronounce. From behind the cornerns of ruins of old buildings, out of the beaten doors of houses that hadn't been bombed yet, from small huts, children, women, men of all ages are coming to see what is happening.

The small area is slowly getting too crowded to have it under control and Lt. Fick is pacing around the scene unfolding before his eyes with apparent unease. US Marines are stationed around the place, but all of them know it is not enough. 

Fick waves his left hand and within a second he has Brad Colbert by his side, awaiting orders. 

"Get Bryan and Y/N out of there. We can't handle this anymore. We need to be Oscar Mike ASAP."

Brad only nods and he's already pushing his way through the crowd that seems to be made of concrete rather than people, as the young soldier struggles to advance forward.

In the centre of it all, kneeling on the ground, with blood soaked into the sand, are the two exhausted Corpsmen. 

"The children are going to die here." Bryan states matter-of-factly without even looking up, while he's bandaging the young boy who can't be more than seven years old. 

You know that but the words still send a chill down your spine, but you continue working too, without the apparent pointlessness of the reality to stop you.

You always know the facts after observing the situation, just like Bryan does, but you've never been able to announce it with such distance and certain cold even, even though you know it is necessary. 

Robert Timothy Bryan is a straightforward man, a trait useful in the Corps and you've learned over the time to report the situation to your superior officers, but you still lack that sort of Bryaness and you probably always will. 

You allow yourself to steal a glance at him. He's concentrated at the work before him, as he always is, the look of focus in his eyes more visible than ever. His face doesn't show any other emotion much, but you know he's exhausted beyond words, physically and mentally, although he would never admit to that out loud. 

You come back to the little boy under your arms. He has two fractured ribs, that are causing him great pain but you are simply unable to do anything about it, he has one bad scratch on his left arm and a deep cut on his thigh - there is no serious bleeding and it is apparent that it must have been some time since he got wounded.

You cut off a part of his trousers to get a better access to the wound and you immediately notice the bloody spots and bruises. 

You pick up your gaze to look at Bryan to find him already staring at you. You both know what this means, there is no need to say it out loud.

You look back down at the little boy, there are tears in his brown eyes and suddenly there's a lump in your throat. You desperately want to help the kid, but no matter what you do, nothing will be enough. The blood poisoning will kill him, you don't know when, he has only some hours to live tops, if he's lucky, and so far his fate has played a cruel game with him.

Then his little hand reaches for yours and you instinctively squeeze it. You hear in the background some voice saying something, you don't know what, you're too caught up in the moment that suddenly nothing matters anymore and the eyes of the boy make you question if this is really your war, if it really isn't your presence that will got him killed eventually.

In your peripheral vision you catch Bryan standing up and patting someone on the shoulder but you stop paying attention to that right away.

The boy is saying something now you don't understand but you just know he's begging you to help him. And you can't. 

"I know," you hear yourself say, "I know and I'm sorry."

Useless words. Empty. Meaningless.

A woman kneels down before you, scooping the boy in her arms. His hand falls out of yours and it breaks your heart. He looks just like the woman, both of them with deep brown eyes, soft features, thick brown hair. 

She nods. An understanding. 

You wouldn't be able to tell her that her son will die in her arms, probably tonight. 

There is a soft tap on your shoulder. You turn your head slightly. 

"We have to go," Bryan is whispering into your ear, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You lean into his touch for comfort and you convince yourself it is everything you need in order to pull yourself together.

You don't look at the boy anymore. You can't. You stand up to follow your fellow Corpsman and without any warning, he reaches behind himself for your hand. He grabs it to not lose you in the crowd.

And you hold onto it like it's a life vest. Perhaps it is everything you need to pull through this war, perhaps he is.

---

Later that day, when you stop for the night, you can't sleep. You can see those helpless eyes of that boy every time you close your eyes.

This, most definitely, is not your first encounter with wounded locals you couldn't save, as it is not your last, but this one stays with you, no matter how much you fight it. 

"Good work today, Y/N," you can hear Bryan's voice behind you. He sits on the ground next to you, shoulders and knees touching, and finally his affection towards you surprises you. You were too caught up in those moments before to notice how much he actually looks after you. 

"If you say so," you respond, not sharing his opinion. You feel like you failed today. 

"I know so," he counters, nudging you softly with his side. You finally smile.

You wait for him to bring up the boy incident but he doesn't speak one word of it and you're more than grateful. You couldn't talk about it if you tried. Maybe in a few years, but not today, and Bryan knows this, even if you don't. 

"You're awfully nice to me lately," you decide to keep the conversation going, turning your head to look at him for just a moment.

He chuckles at that, a sound you haven't heard enough and could easily get drunk on. "I'm nice to everyone." 

You burst out laughing at his answer, as all those cold stares and snarky comments of his come to your mind. 

He joins in, smiling. "That felt wrong just to say it."

"Tell me about it."

"I just-" he surpises you when he continues, "I just fucking hate everyone." 

You stop laughing and your heart drops a little but Bryan is still talking. "But you? You're the only person I don't hate." 

You're so caught off guard that you can't find anything to say back to that as your own capibility to talk fails you. The words hang above you both, you savour the feeling because you finally don't feel so alone in the vast world.

Something clicks in you when he says those words and you're smiling now, you couldn't stop smiling if you wanted to.

You grab his hand and squeeze it, you don't let go of him, you can't now. 

"I don't hate you too," you finally respond and you don't have to look at him to know he's smiling now too. 

[creationsabyss]

My thoughts on the Aventurine drama

I've been inactive for a while, I was (still am) busy in real life but coming back online to post and seeing discourse about a newly crowned favorite character is disheartening. Even more so, that people are harassing other writers over a drama I feel is overblown.

I have thoughts regarding it but I'm unsure if my opinion would be appreciated. But if you'd like to peacefully talk it out with me, I'd be happy to lend an ear. I'd like to hear both sides, as meager as my opinion may be.

Oh boy, here we go.

Aventurine is a character, a fictional being born to entertain the players. He is not real. He can not be offended by what you create of him. There is no point getting upset on the behalf of a character and prioritizing fiction over a person who does actually exist.

If we do want to condemn slavery fics, why not also cancel slave reader fics? Or ones that include things such as dead dove (including yanderes in general) fics because those topics are equally terrible to condone and write about from that point of view. Or how about other characters that have similar topics in their lore. Should those also be canceled too?

*There are also folks who make problematic pieces to help cope with their own trauma. Does that mean they should be canceled too? (On that note: making a piece that holds problematic content does not always mean the person condones it in real life. Fiction is fiction for a reason.)

In the end, I think everyone can have their own opinions, but I would like to say that your opinions do not justify terrible actions. Just because you disagree with something does not justify you bullying someone into deleting one of their works, whether it is art or writing or anything else, I do not think that is justifiable. Harassing someone or calling people to harass them is not right either.

*If you did disagree with it, why not message the author about it instead of making accusatory posts? Even when done with good intentions, all it does is cause harm when it's practically inviting people to go harass someone over a fanfiction. A very mild fanfiction at that.

If you disagree with a piece, cool. That's your opinion. Just don't interact with it then. Block that creator or that tag or whatever it is that led you there. Or if you're curious, ask that creator.

Also, to reiterate, in my opinion, fiction is still just fiction. Especially when it's a fanfiction about a fictional character. Yes, his canon lore exists, but people can use that basis in fanfiction, something that will inherently warp canon because we are not the original writers and can not capture him in the exact way he was created. In case that doesn't make sense: Fanfiction does not have to comply with the original lore. Also since some of you seem to be forgetting: fiction does not mirror real life.

If you are truly that concerned over sensitive topics like that, directing that energy towards projects that involve such topics in real life would be much better than attacking people on the internet.

[woodsborostabathon]

im such a strict judge judy ass bitch when it comes to interpretations of my faves like. actually yeah yk what. i am NOT making myself power thru this literal smut fic bc i keep cringing every ten seconds bc EVERY ten seconds they got my girl doing some shit she would Never do 😭

[hitman-two]

Bouquet of Flowers (Grace x Doc)

|| Rushed drabble of a fluffy domestic interaction between our fave ship! Up to you whether you see it as them in a relationship, or them as roommate-friendship but definitely on the cusp of figuring out their feelings. Grace glanced up to see Doc walking in with a bouquet of flowers. Her blue eyes immediately snapped to the colour display of petals and her brows raised as she glanced back over at him. "Why are you holding flowers? You look ridiculous." "You know...most women fawn over a man who gifts them flowers." "Fawn? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a deer-" "Oh I'm well aware." "- And if I wanted flowers, I'd go out and buy myself some." "What do you have against flowers?" "They wilt and die? It's a waste of money, Timothy." "Guess I'll go get my money back then..." Their conversation had been light and there was no dig at one another whatsoever. To others on the outside, it may seem like Grace was being ungrateful but Doc knew Grace. He knew she wasn't allowing herself to be soft. He'd stand his ground and argue with her until he won. Just as predicted, Grace was quick to stand up and snatch the bouquet of colorful flowers of his hand before he could turn around and leave.

"The hell you will."

Doc held back the smug smile but his blue eyes sparkled with that knowing look, watching as Grace sighed softly as her own eyes glanced over the flowers once more. Holding the flowers close to her, she leaned up a little and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, "It looks like a fairy threw up." Doc chuckled, half-expecting a 'thank you' and a softer reaction instead of the typical Grace comment. He followed her into the kitchen as she located a glass pitcher for a makeshift vase, undid the bouquet packaging, and situated the flowers in the pitcher. When she finished making sure all the stems were in the water (that's as much flower-arranging as you're going to get from her), Doc came up beside her, placing his right hand down on the benchtop to steady himself, his left shoulder nudging hers. Unlike before, his voice was much lower, "You're allowed to be soft, Grace. It doesn't make you weak." Her hands stilled when he called her out, and she kept her gaze on the fairy atrocity, hands lowering to the benchtop and fingers loosely curling into her palm. "...I know." The two were quiet for a moment. Neither moving from their positions. But, as always, there was nothing uncomfortable about it. Eventually, Doc broke the silence, "Happy Valentine's Day, Grace." Her blue eyes finally met his and she smiled softly. "Happy Valentines Day, Tim." Turning her body to face him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. He was quick to place a kiss on her forehead before wrapping his own arms around her and resting his cheek on head. Both content in the embrace.

They don't need much in their relationship. But what they have, their content with.

"Thank you." came the softer reply Tim was expecting. His own lips turning into a soft smile that Grace couldn't see. But she felt it through the way he tightened his arms around her.

|| If you'd like me to tag you in Doc x Grace stuff, let me know! I thought I'd post this now in case I don't get a chance to revisit it with a proper one-shot drabble before Valentines.

Also if you see this as roommates-friendship... think of it as Grace recently having broken up with someone she was seeing. Did Doc do this to cheer her up? or because he doesn't realise he has feelings for her? Or both? You decide.

[ferally-ships]

Hi! I'm Rose (She/her) and I softly write at my side-blogs: @lieutenant-speirs | @hitman-two | @softkazansky

I try to keep my fandom-specific writing separate from the chaos of mutually fangirling and ask games.

|| ~ 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 ~ ||

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬: Generation Kill, Band of Brothers, Top Gun/Maverick, Formula 1 (kinda considering it a 'fandom').

I love and adore my mutuals. It's the only reason why I'm far more active on Tumblr than I used to be, and why I'm making more of an effort on here. I do my best to include my mutuals in tags but my biggest apologies in forgetting and/or not realising you don't want to be tagged (do let me know!) I also suck at communication, so please feel free to bug me in the DMs or Ask-box!

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J. Maas 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠: Formula 1 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hold My Hand - Lady Gaga (It's a Top Gun thing).

[terrence-silver]

Random Concept: Terry Silver with a TikTok-obsessed Beloved

It would be cute if beloved wanted to film cute couple moments with Terry.

Spicier with Terry during the Halloween season because of all the Ghostface masks trending.

I can imagine Gen Z beloved doing something like the Gothic Baby account if they have a kids with Terry.

Like, I do think Terry Silver, in his old age majorly keeps up with trends.

He always has.

He always had his finger on the pulse of the 'brand new thing'.

More so than young people, undoubtedly --- he's a businessman, after all.

He's too clever not to keep up. That's how he can blend in so perfectly and adapt if need be, being chameleonic in nature, changing and transforming with the times. It's how he can manipulate perceptions and cultural norms --- by being in touch with things around him, sure, like the advent of social media. The Online sphere. Being Vegan for a while, because that's a la mode and acceptable in a more Liberal, upper crust crowd in Los Angeles --- it's admirable, even. A societal badge that says one's a conscientious, good person (And Terry Silver's just that? Right?) when that wouldn't have been the case in the past. Thirty years ago it was perhaps the discourse between nuclear and fossil fuels or green new energy that mattered, and today, it's all about Tik Tok. It's Twitter. Or X, rather. And what's trending on there --- the type of stuff that can make or break one's reputation because someone said something stupid or cancel-worthy two decades ago. Heck, even the branding of social media itself changes, having one name and taking on another practically overnight! The world moves fast and Terry Silver moves with it. But, in spite of him been keenly aware what's what and what it means, I envision his Online presence is incredibly scarce and unbelievably curated on purpose and what information can be found on him on the Internet has been fine combed and is continuously fine combed so really, not only can you not find anything too controversial about him on there (maybe just the right amount of controversial, tactically speaking; acceptable controversies, as to not make him seem too inhumanly saintly and by extension, unrealistic, too suspicious and fake) --- you can't even really find anything much of anything in general except what Terry deliberately and specifically wants on there. Man's incredibly private all while putting up a facade that he's an open book --- which, don't be fooled, he's anything but.

What I mean to say with this is that Terry Silver undoubtedly wouldn't be on Twitter, for example, posting his actual, real opinions about...anything. He's smart like that.

So, any beloved of his? Gen Z or otherwise?

Chances are, they wouldn't be chronically Online either.

They wouldn't be on Tik Tok, plastering videos of themselves, their family or Terry Silver himself for the world to see consistently, because the thought of thousands of people (Voyeurs, the way an already voyeuristic Terry would see it) tuning in to see and watch his beloved --- random punks commenting on them, expressing their opinions willy-nilly, judge, complementing them, leering, passing, bookmarking, downloading and sharing said clips around unstoppably, without any monitoring as to how they could use and abuse such material...legitimately forever --- well, it presses the button of someone fiercely territorial, jealous, possessive, protective and control oriented like Terry. He doesn't like it. He doesn't allow it. He thinks it's bullshit. He would take advantage of someone's else's uploads Online for sure, if push ever came to shove, so maybe it is a bit of projection on his behalf, that somehow, someone, somewhere, would do the same to him and someone who belongs to him to weaken him or retaliate against him, so to take precaution against it, beloved's presence Online becomes, possibly, even scarcer than his, because they're the most precious thing he has and when something or someone's precious or valuable, they're tucked away. Hidden, in ways. Plus side to this, though --- I can envision Terry Silver, like a man who was young in the 70's and 80's being big on home videos instead. Private collections for his private viewing pleasure and usage only. Cute couple moments galore are permissible --- everything is permissible, in fact --- but these recordings, lets call them, belong and remain explicitly in Terry Silver's private care, because he's a man who doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve and tends to strategically tuck away everything that ever mattered to him. Everything that makes him vulnerable. Everything that can compromise or damage him. Most of everything he really is from the public. Includes beloved. Whatever children he might or might not have with them.

If someone was somehow skillful enough to discover their names and Google them, chances are, nothing specific comes up in their search results. Not anywhere.

That's deliberate.