#i respect doc i just do not fear him

[lectern-fullcauldron]

Zombiecleo (breaker of legs) taugh me that the first lesson to being effectively threatening is that the person you are threatening has to understand that you WILL follow through and you will not repent on it. Another thing I have learned from Zombiecleo is that docm77's threats are limp and his bombastic schemes and weapons are to be mocked, not feared.

doc goes straight for the nuclear option with his threats - he'll lag you so hard your computer catches fire, he'll carpet bomb your base, he'll spend hours charging an arrow that will melt your armour. but that's griefing, all of it, griefing, and thus a warcrime on the hermitcraft (or any) server. doc cannot follow through on his threats without immediately facing sanctions and having to repent (he took a litematica reading of grian's base before installing the creeper launcher, after all). doc CANNOT follow through on his threats. he CANNOT escalate them from their initial bombasity. he simply gets stuck.

his final option is rap battle, but the only hermit who has ever fallen to rap is joe hills. and that's why I am always amused when doc fans come charging into other hermits' comment sections insisting that doc will destroy the others, will wage nuclear war, will personally bring down the king. because no he won't, he'll write another rap, stick up a flagpole or hide some goats.

no, what you really want to fear is Cuban in a sillytime mood. nobody can survive that

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter IV

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

What's a Lieutenant if not someone you can use as a stress reliever

Or

Being a gifted medic comes with free rewards

You weren't the only one catching up on some sleep. Simon was awake throughout Johnny's entire surgery despite having slept four hours the previous night, wanting to be available in case you needed his help, finally getting some much-needed rest after being practically forced by Price.

He wakes up six hours later, a small groan escaping his lips at the light entering his window. His burly arm comes up to cover his eyes, shielding them from the bright sun.

''Fuckin' hell.'' He muttered, getting up from bed and putting on a black balaclava. Shit went down yesterday, with Johnny almost dying, and Makarov is now free, able to continue killing civilians until they're finally able to catch him. At the very least, his best friend is alive and stable last time he visited.

Simon leaves his room, walking to the cafeteria to get a bottle of cold water and a few granola bars before heading to your quarters, knocking on the door softly in case you're asleep. No reply. He knows better, but... what if something happened to you? He uses the pathetic excuse to justify his actions, hand turning the doorknob carefully before stepping inside, footsteps surprisingly quiet for someone his size.

What a fucking sight. He stared at your sleeping figure for a while, taking in the details of your face when it wasn't pulled into a scowl or a bored expression, a small smile tugging on his lips at how peaceful you look before he realized how creepy he was being. He shook his head softly as if to snap out of it, putting the water bottle and granola bars before turning away to try and leave.

Try, because a much smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, almost making him flinch because of how sudden it was. He looks down at you only to find your eyes boring into his, tugging him closer by the wrist. A confused Simon followed like a lost dog before his feet rooted on the ground in front of your bed, giving you a questioning look with his eyes.

''Come lay with me.'' Your voice is much gentler than usual, laced with something he can't quite recognize yet. Simon knows better, really he does, but who is he to question the medic he's been pining on for months? He hesitantly removes his boots and climbs into bed with you, keeping a respectful distance despite his behemoth frame taking over half of the bed. His muscles tense up when he feels you cuddling up to him, being a painfully fitting piece against his body.

''What are you on bout, doc?'' You don't reply, simply examining his eyes for any hints of hesitation. You find nervousness, curiosity, doubt, and even the smallest hints of fear, but no hesitation at all. Your hand sneaks up to the bottom of his balaclava, pulling it all the way off before your lips crash into his hungrily. It takes him a few seconds of pure confusion before he kisses back, arms wrapped around your waist, and whatever questions he has on why you're doing this all of sudden pushed to the back of his mind.

Your hands grab at anything they can reach— muscle, skin, hair... anything, holding onto his much bigger body like a lifeline, his warm hands running up and down your back. He has fantasized about this moment so many times, yet the real thing is so different in a good way.

''Tell me I can touch you, bird.'' You simply nod your head and try to go back to kissing him, but he pulls away, gently squeezing your waist to make you look at him.

''Use your words.'' His words are almost pleading, wanting to make sure you want the same thing.

''I want you to touch me, Simon.'' Not a second passes before his lips are back on yours, tongues wrapping around each other's as his hands start to drift down, grabbing a handful of your ass. His touch is so desperate it almost makes you laugh, one of your hands sneaking down his shirt and feeling him up, defined muscles flexing under your touch. His slightly shaky hands fumble with the button of your jeans, breaking away from the kiss just to look at you and make sure you still want it. The half-lidded look you give him is enough confirmation, pulling down your jeans and getting on his knees, between your legs.

"Been wanting to do this since I saw ya." He confesses, too excited for his fantasies finally coming true to even feel remotely bashful about his words. He lifts up your shirt enough to reveal your tummy, gentle kisses planted on every single inch of skin his lips can reach as he slowly descends, planting open mouthed kisses over your clothed cunt.

"Fuck—" Your back arches at the feeling, eyes screwed shut as your hand goes to the back of his head, pushing him closer. His tongue is warm and wet, saliva mixing in with your growing arousal. He pushes your panties to the side, looking down at your gleaming pussy before digging in, tongue lapping the wetness before he latches onto your cunt, sucking and licking away like a starved man.

"You taste s'fucking good." He praises before going back down, the flat of his tongue moving around your cunt before slowly going inside, your whiny moans and hands gripping his short hair are all the encouragement he needs. He latches onto your clit next, long fingers teasing the entrance of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over them before he slowly enters you with one.

His fingers are thick and long, whiny moans escaping your lips as he adds a second one, making scissoring motions as he fucks his fingers deeper and deeper into you, tongue alternating between licking and sucking on your clit before hesitantly letting go.

"Sit on my face." It's not even a request, it sounds like a plea, though you quickly listen to his words for the first time ever, cunt hovering above his face as soon as he lays back down. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing the plush and pulling your body down to his face, eating you out like a starved man. His hands let go of your ass to unbuckle his belt, barely having the strength to pull his hard cock out of his jeans, eyes closing as he focused on the dual sensation of pleasuring you with his mouth and pleasuring himself with his hand, pre staining his fingers as his hand moves up and down his shaft faster.

"Fuck— Just like that, Si." Si. You never call him anything other than Simon. Sometimes Ghost, when you're needed during missions and hang around them in the helos, but the way you say his name... so much affection, even if it only comes from making you feel good. He's pathetic— God, he knows he's being pathetic, cock twitching in his hand at the idea of you reciprocating his complex and strange feelings for you, ropes of thick cum shooting out into his hand and stomach, a low growl coming out of his lips as he squeezed his cock dry of cum.

He focuses solely on you now, tongue swirling and flickering all over you, his clean hand coming up to rub your clit with his thumb while he assaults your dripping wet cunt with his lips and tongue. Your hands go down to his head, fingers pulling on his short hair while you use his face to feel good, getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Si, I'm gonna cum—" But he doesn't stop. Hell, his thumb moves even faster over your sensitive bud, tongue-fucking your pussy as deep as he can until he can feel your body shaking on top of him, thighs closing in on his head and squeezing as the intensity of your orgasm washes over you, his waiting mouth taking in all your juices, lapping at them greedily until you pull away from the stimulation, shaky legs managing to position yourself next to him, head against his chest.

"You hear that? Price is calling you." You lie, unable to contain the smirk on your lips as he flicks your nose.

"Piss off, doc." His burly arms wrap around you, a loud groan of protest escaping your lips when you realize you're forced to cuddle with him.

[PREVIOUS]

[sugurizz]

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭.: Joo Jaekyung x f! reader - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: world champion Team Black's Joo Jaekyung is the hottest sensation in the MMA universe. His name is not only feared and respected on the streets, but desired in the sheets. Little did physiotherapist Y/n know, she was about to learn it the hard way.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 / 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark content ahead! explicit content, dubcon, graphic content, dom/sub dynamics, power dynamics, degradation, nicknames (Doc, slut, whore, etc...)

𝐰.���: 1,1k.

𝐉𝐎𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 − 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

And who's this now? What is she doing here?'

'Please welcome y/n. She'd be our substitute physical therapist for now. hope you guys would get along.' Responded team coach Park Namwook as he gently gave your shoulder a pat.

'You keep bringing these goons around! And none of them seems to get the job done right!' He harshly dismissed your presence, looking at the coach, then scoffed as he walked back into the sparring room.

'You'll have to deal with him after the sparring matches. He's quite the hardass at times, but I know I can rely on you.'

The coach gave you a rather awkward smile, brushing off the rude welcoming you suddenly received.

-----

You stepped into the therapy room and hanged your backpack, just as he came in, skin gleaming with sweat and pitch black strands messy. His eyes accidentally met yours as he layed down on the chair.

'I'm taking the shirt off. It's drenched in sweat.'

Your heart sunk. You turned around to see his large torso on full display. He clearly did it for an understandable reason, but your brain went blank and your fingertips froze for a split second, until a deep voice shook you out of it..

'Last week's treatment sucked. The last substitute coach brought here was so incompetent. My muscles remained tense anyway. And the cramps in my left shoulder got even worse.'

'I understand, sir. I'll work on a different treatment routine. I'm sorry for your last week's inconvenience.'

You somehow fancied remaining professional at that moment. Despite his clear attitude, you knew your job as physiotherapist was to provide the team members with effective remedies in the first place.

He shrugs and looks away, closing his eyes in annoyance as he muttered,

'And better make it quick. I don't have all night ahead.'

You nodded as you approached his frame. Took a deep breath as your palms landed on his skin. It was a mix of heat and cold, a marble-like texture that you didn't expect a UFC fighter -notably the best of the best- to have.

the session went rather smoothly, no words were spoken. but at least you could tell the silence was a rather relieving sign.

'S-Sir...c-could you point to me the spot where your shoulder feels most painful, please?'

He placed his hand on the back of his shoulder, eyes still closed. And you complied as you started massaging it. His features flinched for a while, and your heart skipped a beat as you slowly neared the end of the session.

'I'll have to say that your shoulder might need a few more sessions, sir. It seems that the tendons on your upper left arm are the reason you're struggling with pain in your shoulder.'

'I'm not spending any extra time on nonsense! You figure out how to heal it. And you'll do it during the normal sessions.'

He glanced at you sternly as he stood up and straightened himself. Not acknowleging you a second further...

-----

The next day's session was just about to start, an unspoken tension grew inside your chest. The uncertainty of what could happen every time your hands stroked against his rock hard abs, toned arms, and god-like v lined pelvis had your face heating up.

He walked in as usual. you greeted him with a pale smile and performed your service as good as you could...

...'Hey, do you work extra hours? I'll pay you.'

He opened a half-lidded eye, voice deeper than you recognized.

you turned around, puzzled ..

'I...can do that. It would buy me some extra time to focus on your upper arm's tendons.'

'Good. I'm only open for extra sessions in my apartment, though.'

'B-but sir! I'm not sure if I can commute to your place at such a late hour...' You jolted immediately, almost panicking at the sudden request.

'I can tell you're not good with directions. Meet me at the entrance in 15 minutes. I'm driving there anyway.'

He muttered nonchalently as he got up and left the room, leaving you standing up there, mind foggy and racing trying to process what just happened...

...the ride home was silent. The flashing lights of the city were the only way you could ignore the heavy weight upon your heart. You got off as you arrived and made your way behind him to the apartment.

'There. You can place your stuff anywhere. And follow me quick.'

He laid down on a king-sized bed, eyeing you up and down as you set foot into the room.

'I'll make it short and quick.

I fuck before matches. For a reasonable price. Choice is yours.'

You somehow managed to stay cool and collected, but the silence that followed crushed your soul. He was still waiting for your response. Not that you were aware of his fiery eyes almost piercing a burning hole through your chest.

'W-why?...sir..' a broken protest left your throat. But he seemed so unfazed by it all.

'If it's a no you can leave now. No more words needed.'

He looked away, turning around to face the huge bay window, shining through the city lights. you felt unjustifiably intoxicated. was it his huge frame? the unforgettable scent of his room? or just the nasty desire that you kept suppressing since your eyes met his dark ones? You didn't know for sure. But the way he felt like he could crush you evertime he randomly stood next to you had you picturing all kinds of the filthiest things he could do to you...

...

'W-what would it be.... if I...agreed, s-sir?...'

'Oh. playing sly are we?'

He walked up to you with a mishievious grin on his face, then leaned down enough for his lips to meet your ears.

'If you agree, you get fucked to my heart's content. No playing around. No lovey-dovey shit.'

The brutal tone was supposed to distaste you, but for whatever messed up reason made you feel the throb straight down your womb, and between your legs.

'So?'

You snapped out. His warm breath was still ghosting over your neck, just enough to tease your senses, without ever touching you.

You looked into his eyes like a frightened deer, tho your fear merged with the heat in your belly.

'N-No one...can hear about this! sir'

'Not that anyone else can see me balls deep in you, can they?'

He raised an eyebrow, shit-eating grin still over his lips as his monster-like frame invaded your space. Your brain shut down, heart hammering as you looked back into his eyes...

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑?...

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.

[t-lostinworlds]

Warm Winter & Fiery Frost | B.Barnes [Completed]

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x ex-HYDRA assassin!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: grumpy x grumpy, enemies to lovers-ish, slow burn-ish, angst, fluff-ish

》 SUMMARY: They say opposites attract. You and Bucky were so alike—He was called The Winter Soldier and you were called Frost, for fucks sake—that it's probably the reason why you hated each other. Or was it the denying of powerful feelings in fear of getting hurt? You know, like how the cliché goes. Because you know what they also say: There's a fine line between love and hate.

》 WARNINGS: canon typical violence (blood, guns, combat, etc.), canon divergence, meanness against each other (at the start & that one scene™), emotional constipation! (on both sides. they both need therapy lbr), poorly translated russian prolly, soulmate vibes (not really?), r has bucky at knifepoint quite often (& threatens to kill him), bucky's kink unlocked? (not explored lol), down bad!bucky, r has a backstory, mentions of: past traumas, grooming (no specific ages but it's implied that r was very young), manipulation, experimentation, child trafficking, torture, murder (u know hydra tings), a sweet, happy and open ending (+ if i missed anything pls let me know!)

》 TOTAL WORD COUNT: 29k+ (my longest fic yet)

A/N: i actually started this a year ago??? (according to my doc) which is crazy to me?? bc it feels like i only had this idea for months? where has the time gone. ANYWAYS. first behemoth bucky fic & first fic in a few months so pls be kind ksksks

++ also would like to say that r in this isn't the usual happy-go-lucky, sweet, emotionally capable, sunshine-y person compared to what i typically write but she has her reasons. cold & hardened but mushy on the inside. u know. like our fave supersoldier. they're honestly the same person just different fonts lmao. ANYWAYS,

++ additional note: tumblr has a limit of only 1000 paragraphs (or text block so to speak). the fic itself is 1300 paragraphs so it's waay over the limit. so i decided to cut it into two parts BUT i also posted it on AO3 if you want to read it as a whole already. hope you guys still read and enjoy it! <3

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

PART ONE | PART TWO

or READ ON AO3

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

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© t-lostinworlds, 2024 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

[jacks-little-jacky]

How do you think the other captains would react if Jack a soft cute so but in the battle field she’s just as violent as him

The other Captains | Jack the Ripper x Reader Headcanons

This is the second time I've written this request and I swear to god if Tumblr crashes again and deletes everything I will start pre-writing everything on docs. Also, this isn't my usual request of writing for Jack but rather the other Captain's opinions on something that has to do with Jack, so I hope I somewhat nailed them.

Yami Sukehiro

Honestly he's so confused about how Jack got a gf

She's cute??? Huh???

Since I see them as the best buddies, he's glad that Jack got himself a pretty and sweet gf but he fears how long he's able to keep her because the man is batshit crazy

so he's a bit surprised but relieved when he sees you go crazy too

he was a lil afraid Jack would become too much or maybe try to dull himself down as he only saw your cute side, so seeing how you're able to match him is good in his eyes

still makes jokes about Jack being too dumb to keep a relationship but he secretly ships it fr

William Vangeance

he likes you! you're sweet and nice!

maybe a little weird next to Jack because you seem his polar opposite

doesn't think too much about it, he's glad you make Jack happy

like Yami he spends a little moment to wonder if maybe he'd get too much for you

also relieved but not as much when he sees your other side

also... a little concerned.... especially if you're not a magic knight.

Rill Boismortier

oh! Captain Jack has a girlfriend! He has a heart! A soft side!

and you're so sweet too???

he def. would try to get along with you, partially because he really thinks you're sweet and he's a very friendly guy

also because he hopes it puts him in good books with Jack because he's lowkey scared

His reaction when you reveal your crazy side is like: "... Oh no... they're both insane..."

He likes your passion though! And how it matches with Jack. He sees a certain beauty in how your differences become irrelevant in a dire/battle situation and you both "dance" on the field

Mereleona Vermillion

she doesn't care all that much tbh

she thinks you're sweet but doesn't really waste another thought on it

only get's interesting when she sees how intense you can get

I guess she'd like Jacks willingness to fight so to see that you're kinda double trouble would be relationship goals for her

doesn't really spend much time thinking about it tho

Charlotte Roselei

How

No, just how? Jack? Pulled a girl? A sweet one like you?

She's baffled

You're so sweet? And nice? And that all for someone like Jack?

Charlotte doesn't like most men in general and while I am a firm believer of Jack x Charlotte in a platonic friendship way... She still would be confused how someone likes him ROMANTICALLY

a little happy for Jack tho, she knows he's not that bad (and she likes roudy guys Yami too)

likes you a lot more when she sees you can dish out some too, maybe would even suggest for you to join her squad

a little worried about Jack and you riling each other up though

Dorothy Unsworth

she likes you, you're sweet and she ships the difference in everyday attitude

Now it depends, if you're being unnecessarily cruel, she'd frown at it but she understands well that it's fun to let loose and play with your magic (which can be very destructive at times)

so yeah Dorothy would like the energy but if you're like crazy violent in a sense of hurting more than you'd have to for no real reason she'd be put off a little

she'd pull you into her glamour world sometimes to show you versions of Jack who totally swoons over you because that how it looks like to her LMAO

Kaiser Granvorka

he's also a little concerned about you at first

sure Jack has to be somewhat sane and respectable to be a Captain but I don't think Kaiser thinks too highly of him

he likes you tho, hopes that maybe you'll rub off on Jack a little

when he sees the way you behave in battle he's more concerned

maybe... he doesn't want you to rub off on Jack. He is crazy enough

After all, this man is married as far as I know and I belive he's still as happy as he can be for you two

Nozel Silva

he's... confused.

Now if you're a noble or a royal his mind is genuinely blown and he thinks Jack did some dirty trick to get you with him

if you're a peasant he doesn't care. at all. maybe raises an eyebrow but doesn't care too much.

if you're a noble/royal he's a bit "concerned" about your violent side but of course, you'd be powerful. it does shift his view on the relationship in a more positive light to see that you don't need to use Jack as a bodyguard/are not dependent on him

if you're a peasant his only thought is "Great, now there's two of them..." - he doesn't like your boyfriend and your chances for him to like you are very, very thin

he might like you more than Jack though because you at least have a sweet and soft side that is socially acceptable

Fuegoleon Vermillion

he's pretty much a middle ground of William and Nozel here

he thinks his part but you won't catch onto that

very glad you're a well behaved and mannered woman and you seem to manage Jack's personality well

he can see the appeal for Jack when you match him, you have no reason to be scared if you're the same and you certainly understand his odd... hobbies like this

but also a little concerned that there are now two of that kind together

Julius Novachrono

Man is in everybodies business

he doesn't say or think much of it tbh, he has seen a fair amount of people and how layered they can be

he likes that you're sweet and soft because it definitely could be handy for Jack (he doesn't cause trouble that much but damn him and Yami at the same spot is always a ticking time bomb and oh does your presence keep Jack focused on something else than Yami)

the violent part is only really interesting depending on your magic, if somehow you and Jack worked on a spell or something that boosts both of you when near each other he'd be intrigued

just hope none of you gets hurt (or does something illegal)

[maximwtf]

“If you wish so.”

Kamisato Ayato x Reader

Words: 3340

Google docs pages: 7,5

Warnings: Songfic, but I suppose it makes sense even without the lyrics :”D, established relationship, arranged marriage, overworking, angst/comfort

Opening: After marrying the man you’d grown up alongside, you notice how busy his and your life had gotten. You notice how you would be lucky to even see him during the day, and from there your mind spirals to ponder if there is any fixing the marriage anymore. So one night as he comes back to you, you bring the topic up. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! Is it my golden birthday? Yes. Am I still writing fanfiction? Perhaps. The song used here -> Song

“If you wish so.”

You were no stranger to Kamisato Ayato, having known him since you were a child. You grew up together, mostly because your parents were close and had a lot of work they did together. This allowed you to not only get to know him, but train to fight with him. He was always a pleasant opponent, since he knew when to stop and when to be serious. He had respect for his opponents, and clearly had been taught the same way you had. So getting along with him had never been a problem. 

You wish you could have said it had come as a surprise when your time to marry had come around, and the person chosen for you had been Ayato. But you had your premonition that it would have been him. Only, you had never in your adult life discussed something like this with him. The topic of relationships had never come up in the whole time you’d known him. But you had no fear of bringing the topic up, knowing of the polite young adult he’d grown up to be. And you’d been correct. Neither of you were sure if it was going to work out, but understood the weight a relationship such as this would have and together agreed that you’d try to make it work. 

And it had. Later on, you found that you truly fancied him. Maybe you would have figured it out later in life anyway, but the marriage had just sped up the process due to you having to spend more time around him. And you told him this, immediately being assured that he had started to wonder if he was feeling the same way. The realisation had made everything so much easier for the both of you. And not only that, but the public appearances you sometimes made showed the people that you were truly going to stick together. You felt at ease with him. 

But when his parents passed away and the weight of the clan's affairs fell upon him, he’d been drowned in work. You had tried your best to comfort him, to tell him that he was doing a good job. But he had never seemed to truly doubt himself, taking upon loads of work while keeping his sister away from the heavy burdens of the clan. As much help as Thoma was, you still worried for the man. 

But at the end of the day, you found yourself in the same position as him. You were also expected to take on the clan’s affairs, making you separate from Ayato. And from time to time enough that sometimes you didn’t remember when you’d seen him last. And it took a toll on you as well at some point. Why couldn’t things slow down as they’d been when you both had been just a little younger?

“If you wish so, you shall never be restless again. “

So one day you thought to confront him about it. To tell him that he had too much work to do, and that he should ask help with it from time to time. Or even share some of it with you, if that could be of any help. But the conversation had gone almost as you’d expected. 

You’d barely been able to catch him, even for just the moment you needed in order to talk with him. But the moment he saw you, he’d paused. And if you didn’t know any better, you would have missed the pleased look that flashed onto his face the moment he saw you. Appearing for only a short amount of time, yet you knew him well enough to know he was glad to see you.

“Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss, dear?” Ayato asked, form seemingly now more at ease than before. Something about that easing your mind as well. Not that you’d been worried to bring up anything with him. You trusted the man. “Being at the head of the commission comes at a cost. But don’t you think there is a little too much to do?” You started, not having thought out a speech or even properly how to word your thoughts. A shiver accompanied by panic flashed through your body, quickly adding something to the previous statement. “Of course, I’m confident of your abilities for the position-”, but of course the stuttering and slight worry only amused Ayato, bringing an expression on his face to show that. Though, after that he replied in a more serious tone, knowing as much as you’d stuttered that you’d been serious about this. “Is your work weighing on you? If that is the case, I can assure you something can be done about it. And will, swiftly.” He then said. His voice convincing, not making you doubt for a second that he wouldn’t waste time to take work off your shoulders. He was very comprehensive with decisions such as this. Having dealt with cases like this before, he knew quick fixes for it. But he had gotten it wrong, totally. 

It wasn’t yourself who you were worried about, but him and his well being if he continued to work like he did now for as long as his body allowed him to. Something about a future like that scared you, made you wonder how far was a future like that? A future where he’d work to provide for this family until he couldn’t anymore?

“If you wish so, everything mine shall be yours too. “

You put your hands up, shaking them gently in front of you as a sign that what he thought hadn’t been what you’d meant. “That is not what I meant, dear. And even more so, I do believe you have a heavier workload than I do as things are.” You placed your hand at the back of your neck for comfort, looking at the floor as you thought of a way to make him understand. You could feel his eyes on you, patiently waiting for you to come around. As your eyes travelled back to him, a hint of confusion had laid itself in his eyes. “I wished for us to share the work more evenly. For me to take some of yours.” You finally added, voice a little more quiet than before. Ayato had taken a breath after your statement, mind racing for a moment as he tried to figure out why you weren’t pleased with the way things had been laid out previously? 

He had intentionally made sure to ease your workload and give it to himself. To make sure the affairs of the clan he was meant to take care of wouldn’t weigh on you too much. To keep your mind off of the dirtiest businesses the clan came across from time to time. How long had you been displeased? It confused him further, but none of it did he let show on the outside. A deeply rooted habit. 

“I couldn’t possibly allow you to do that for me.” He started, tilting his head ever so slightly. His voice still held the same calmness as before, as it usually did. “I hope you understand. There is no one else I should worry with the tasks meant for myself.” And he was right. 

The work the commissioner did was not something anyone from the staff could do, nor were they allowed to do it. But that’s exactly why you’d offered to help him, to take some of the workload, knowing he allowed you to see the things he saw. And maybe he saw it as trouble enough that you knew of such things. That he thought he was troubling you even by allowing himself to talk to you about them. But you wanted to help. 

“If you wish so, I’ll take your religion. “

But you had to show him that it wasn’t only the workload that was given unevenly that worried you. It wasn’t fairness that you sought after. You worried for his health and future, and most of all missed him. Missed talking to him like you were talking now. Only, about more pleasant topics. 

You might have intertwined the clans for political reasons, but you did care about him as a friend and as a lover. You would have felt bad later on if you never told him, or if you backed down now and didn’t try your best to convince him. 

“But you are worrying me as it is. Worrying me with the workload you have and the stress it puts you under.” You sighed, shaking your head slightly before continuing the rant. “You work so late, I often fear you don’t sleep enough. Worry, because at times I don’t see you in the morning. Nor do I see you at night.” The last words were spoken more silently, having a hard time admitting that you missed him. That being one of the main reasons why you’d even dared to talk to him about this. 

Ayato’s gaze had softened, a type of realisation hitting him as he keenly listened to you speak your mind. “I long to be with you again, is what I’m saying. I pine to talk to you before falling asleep and-” You stopped yourself there, afraid someone might hear you if you rambled on. Knowing that you shouldn’t discuss private matters out in the open like this. But also because you couldn’t emotionally bear to talk about such deep feelings all of a sudden. And by the looks of it, Ayato had understood the point. 

He now understood where the speech was coming from, why you wanted to ease his workload so desperately. And he would have been lying if he said he hadn’t once thought of wanting to go back to how things were. When there hadn’t been as much to do. But the thought made him feel like he was being pulled in two directions at once. 

But he knew he couldn’t fully promise you anything as things were now. All he could do was give you some kind of reassurance. Maybe that would help, even if it pained him to deal with this in such a way. “I may have a few tricks up my sleeve. I’ve made note of it now and…I’ll see what I can do.” He said confidently, but you couldn’t tell if it was a facade this time. He was far too skilled with covering his actual intentions with the way he spoke. Though, the hand he’d placed on your waist before placing an affectionate kiss on your upper cheek gave you some hope. Perhaps false hope, but you wanted to believe it was real. 

And with that he'd gotten back on track with what he’d been doing previously. 

“If you wish so, even your lies shall be the truth to me. “

But as you’d expected, the hope had been false. As days passed on, you could tell he was still busy as ever and having if not more work to do. But you didn’t complain to him about it. Didn’t whine or get clingy as you had felt after the previous conversation. It had taken some time to shake off the feeling of that after. 

But this morning, he’d woken up around the time you had. Giving you time to have breakfast with him, which felt like a blessing directly from Celestia. And not only that, but Ayato had managed to surprise you with what he’d had on his mind for a short while now. “I was planning on quitting work slightly earlier tonight. How about we go for a stroll after, what do you say?” He said calmly while enjoying his food. But even the divine smell of the well prepared food couldn’t distract you from the shock this plan had given you. Thrilled, but not allowing it to show you formed a somewhat comprehensible reply. “That would be much appreciated, dear.” You said politely, swiftly starting to eat as to appear too busy to add anything else to that. 

You didn’t see if Ayato had seen the excitement in your eyes, but if you knew him at all you would have guessed that he had. He wasn't one to miss on even the slightest expressions, having become quite awfully skilled at reading people in the past few years. But a part of you wished he’d seen the excitement. Seen it so you could hide the internal fear that this was another lie. No, you didn’t want to call them lies, knowing he was truly trying his best to make this work after the initial conversation. 

But something in your gut told you to be wary of such promises. There was no knowing if something urgent would come up today and ruin the plan. And it would hurt more the more excited you were. 

“If you wish so, I’ll move to Andorra, so maybe I’ll see you again. “

And so you waited patiently. Did your daily work with care and finished just early enough to prepare yourself slightly for when he returned as well. You hadn’t even worried when he’d taken a little longer than expected, knowing he had more to do than you. He would come eventually. 

But as you’d feared, he never came. As the last rays of the sun finally disappeared, you gave up the last bits of hope that he was even going to be back before supper. Something must have come up, knowing you hadn’t seen Thoma much either. But that didn’t change the fact that waiting for someone who wasn’t going to come to you hurt. 

Of course you had expected something like this, but a part of you still hoped something could be done about this situation. But then again, the work the two of you did was important and mostly private. So you couldn’t ask for someone to help you sort this out. It was up to your attempts and you weren’t sure how far Ayato was willing to stretch, if at all. But you did want to see him more. To spend time with him. 

There was a sense of comfort when the two of you could only be, take off the facade for a moment and just talk. But that had been in the past for a while now. And of course you couldn’t speak for him, but you felt the need to talk like that again. To share your thoughts with him. You’d do anything to get to do that again. 

“Without you I’m drowning within restless nights, and without you..you see. “

After waiting for him for long enough, you decided it was best to give up. He’d come back around the same time he usually did, and maybe you’d have time to talk to him tomorrow about this. So you headed to bed. 

But the sleep that usually came to you easily was so hard to reach tonight. Your mind spiralled, upset and even a little angry that things weren’t working the way you wished. Usually the voice of reason sorted out your thoughts, but that comforting voice was gone. Far too tired to try thinking logically, your mind kept feeding your feelings and keeping you awake. Even when you felt worn out, you couldn’t find it in you to let your mind rest and fall asleep. 

With no sense of time, you didn’t know how much time had passed. But the sound footsteps approaching the bed caught your attention. Your breathing stilled, ears keen on the soft sounds. He had always been so careful not to wake you up when he knew he was coming back so late. 

The mattress on his side moved as he sat down, a low sight leaving the man. You contemplated not turning around, pretending as if you’d fallen asleep already. But still in your feels you decided best to face him, turning around on the bed. The room was quite dark at this hour, but you could tell he was surprised to see you awake. 

“How come are you still up, dear?” Came to his mind first, the concerned question slipping out almost automatically. You wanted to tell him the reason, but at that moment the reasoning started sounding more and more risible. Instead, you lifted yourself to a sitting position, keeping the covers over your shoulders to maintain the comforting warmth they were radiating. 

But something about your mannerism seemed to have been enough to let him catch up on what was going on. “Ah, I see”, his voice lowered but there was no anger in it. He’d sounded more upset than anything. And you could tell that even in your tired state of mind. “Dear, I apologise. You have my word, not a moment went by when I didn’t regret coming back earlier.” He continued speaking. But this time you knew his words weren’t lies or false hope on his part as well. He was being honest, clear regret in the way he spoke to you. 

You didn’t know what to tell him. His words brought some peace of mind, but they couldn’t change the fact that you missed him. Missed talking to him just as you were talking right now. Raw. But the more time you spent without replying, the more intense his weighing gaze on you felt. 

But there was nothing to be said. You’d tried everything that had come to mind. But maybe this was the last option you had left, as pathetic as it was. “I miss you”, you whined out as the lump in your throat felt harder to swallow down. Ayato’s brows furrowed. 

“Without you, I’m halfway to Hell. “

His hand placed itself carefully to your arm, bringing you both closer to one another. His movements, as careful as they were, weren’t unsure. But he was treating the situation as gently as he could. 

Not that he hadn’t taken you seriously the previous time you’d clearly tried to work around stating the topic like this. He’d tried taking your thoughts into account, but he hadn’t yet found anything that would work. And the thought of that ached at the back of his mind constantly. But the way you’d stayed up until now and tried reaching out once more shone new light at how much he needed to fix something. 

His free hand placed itself at the nape of your neck, moving gently up to your jawline. You leaned into the touch, chewing on your inner lip as you waited for him to say something. “And that feeling is warranted. And believe me when I say, mutual.” He said, gaze soft but firmly on you. “Then come back to me.” You sniffed, looking down for a moment as you quickly wiped your eyes. His hand was fast to tilt your head back up, but only as a mere suggestion to which you responded by obeying. “I will”, the man’s softened voice replied. “For far too long to my comfort I’ve ignored the duty of utmost importance to me. And that is family matters, and it includes you.” He said, surprising even himself of the way he’d held himself together. 

The way he spoke assured you, even if only a little. A wry smile made its way to your face, the tears previously threatening to well up had disappeared. “Thank you.” Was all you could think of, overwhelmed and tired. And you assumed he could tell both of those things by the way he replied. “I’ll discuss this with Thoma and you tomorrow morning.” He said, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. “But before that, I think sleep is in order?” And he was right, of course. “For you too”, you reminded him as you knew in the past he had a tendency to stay up even if you’d fallen asleep. But to that comment he replied with a delighted, yet exhausted sounding chuckle. “Hehe, of course.” He nodded, giving you a proper kiss before lying down. And even if this was nothing new, falling asleep cuddled up to him felt refreshing. Knowing that you’d seen him before falling asleep, and you would see him again in the morning. 

AN// Heehee, an angst with comfort at the end for my birthday. How fitting, aye? This was also a little testrun for Ayato, see how he feels to write for. So hopefully he’s not too ooc !

[cucumberteapot]

Spider-man Villains and Hands

If you're paying attention you'll notice often times in Spiderverse that villains are far less expressive with their hands than the heroes. That is unless it's to attack.

Kingpin clicks his pen to relieve rage he's only barely controlling and in Peter Parker's death scene, the only time we see his hands is to kill him.

With Doc Ock, we see her doing a lot of excited gesturing with her hands (pushing up her glasses, studying Peter, etc.).

But after her reveal, it's her tentacles that does most of the talking.

Moving on to ATSV, when we first meet Spot, he's experimenting with his Spots with (you guesses it!) his hands and it's a lot of trial and error. It's also a lot of slap-stick comedy in his first fight with Miles managing to take him out briefly by making him punch himself in the face.

However as he becomes more confident with his powers, we see him use his hands less and less to the point he doesn't need to use a spot to teleport between dimensions. Instead of attacking them, Spot starts fighting by letting the heroes attack him.

And by the end of the film, his mere presence has become such a threat to Miles that all he has to do to invoke fear is stand still. This is why after his colour scheme has been completely inverted, he doesn't fight or do anything with his hands anymore and it's why our last focus on his hands is when he watches it completely turn from white to black.

When we first get a good look at Miguel, we get a close-up of his claws before panning up to his watch. Firstly this shows us how unlike the other Spider-people Miguel is. He has claws and wears a cape. Peter says in the first movie, "Spider-man doesn't wear capes." Then we see a better look at his watch which tells us this character isn't just scary and powerful, but is powerful in their access to other dimensions without having their cells decay - which by the end of the movie proves to be another problem for Miles. Immediately this shot warns us that Miguel is an unstoppable and dangerous person and the sirens in his leitmotif only emphasise that, even if the characters don't realise it yet.

Likewise with Fisk and Doc Ock in the previous Spiderverse installment, Miguel also doesn't have a lot of hand animations outside of fighting and we see this visual language in his meeting with Miles. Miles offers Miguel an empanadas and calls him 'Tio' ("uncle" in Spanish) as an offer of respect and solidarity, but Miguel's response is to grab the box and throws it aside before resuming his stance.

Here Miguel isn't just refusing Miles, he's also refusing the subliminal coding of a heroic character and I feel this has a lot to do with how our human brains work. The way we understand people and animals is by the way they mirror us. We like patterns and to draw parallels to ourselves. When someone is excited, we're excited. When someone's confused, we're confused. When someone's sad, we're sad. And so on. However when we're faced with something that doesn't react how we expect or reacts unpredictably, like Miguel throwing the empanadas back at Miles, it's sets off a warning in our brains. It's kind of like a predator hunting prey, which is the exact dynamic between Miles and Miguel by the end of the film.

However in Miles' mind, he has no idea why Miguel is being so antagonistic towards him. Even when Peter says, "He's always like this." Miguel remains stoic when Mayday is crawling around him and only moves to catch her and hand her back to Peter. Like with the empanadas, this is another example of Miguel's lack of ability to connect with the people in his environment other than through aggression and violence. It's why Miles calls out, "You have claws? Are you sure your Spider-man?" Because Spider-man is defined by his ability to connect with people - hero or villain.

Then we get to another clawed antagonist who hunts Miles for the duration of the first Spiderverse's runtime. Much like Miguel, Prowler's movement is mostly unstoppable aggression. That is until he learns Miles is Spider-man. Aside from presenting as Aaron Davis, Prowler is most identifiable by his giant claws and the camera makes sure of it.

It's only when Aaron learns who Miles is does he take off a claw to hold his hand in his final moments. Unlike Miguel, the claws are not exclusively attached to his suit - they are removable and thus Aaron is able to connect with the people in his environment outside of his identity as the Prowler.

Which finally leads us to our other Prowler, who likewise is able to put on and take off the claws. But where am I going with this?

I feel like in this scene the lighting and colour grading is doing the most work in making Prowler intimidating. Because unlike Aaron's Prowler, Miles' Prowler design is very casual for a villain. Which works for the character but without the claws and the mask, Miles looks just as scrawny as his Spider-man counter-part. It's almost too casual without those key identifiers. Which is why I think we're going to see a lot of Miles' Prowler without the claws and interacting with his family in the next film, as well as dealing with his own identity. Like Aaron in the first film and unlike Miguel in the second, we're going to see how Prowler connects with his environments beyond serving as a antagonistic foil to Miles.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [12]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: sick child, fear and panic, angst/comfort, canon violence, mentions of medical trauma, blackmailing

Word Count: 3,588

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #12: GROGU, GROGU, BABY, IT’S OKAY

Chapter Summary: pirates, fraudulent doctors, & bacterial infections, oh my!

“Do not question her fire, she could startle the monsters that stop your heart.” -MvDarkLight

Din Djarin. His name was Din Djarin. Every time the name drifted through your thoughts a thrill ran down your spine. You mumbled the name under your breath and it brought a smile to your face. It suited him. Din. Would it be weird if you thought he looked like a Din? Considering you had no idea what he looked like? He felt like a Din. Maybe that was a more accurate thought.

You filled the spoon in your hand with porridge and held it out for Grogu to eat. Since waking, the kid seemed to feel much better in comparison to last night, but you could tell he wasn’t himself. He wasn’t as energetic. On any normal day he would’ve devoured the entire bowl of porridge then been chirping for more. Right now it seemed the only reason he was actually eating was because you were feeding him.

Grogu fussed at you when you scooped up another bite, and in response you set the cutlery back into the bowl. “You done, baby?” He didn’t speak, just whined. You wet a rag to clean his face, but he only let you wipe at him a few times before he squirmed and held his hands up to you. “Here we go. I got you.”

You picked him up and Grogu didn’t hesitate to curl into your chest. Poor baby. You had seen plenty of sick kids before. It was always sad, but you never felt any different than any other patient you had. You could separate yourself from it easily enough. Now, you had a new respect for the parents of those sick kids. This was hard. You knew the medicine behind it, knew this wasn’t life threatening, but hearing Grogu whimper with discomfort as a small cough left him terrified you. 

Mando⏤ No, Din. He said he’d have Daelar stop by for a home visit. The idea of it made you blanch in disgust, but it had to be done. You weren’t going to stroke his ego this time. Daelar was going to take you seriously and give you what you wanted. Your eyes darted to the blaster resting on the island counter beside you. Even if it meant holding the doctor at the dangerous end of your new gift. Could you do that? Could you pick up a blaster and threaten an actual person with it? Grogu coughed again and that was answer enough. Absolutely, you could. For the child in your arms, you’d do anything.

Including reaching out to your past.

You picked up the blaster, which felt dangerously comfortable in your hand, and walked over to sit on the couch with Grogu still resting against you. After setting the blaster down, where it’d still be in reach, you tapped on your arm communicator to call a number you had memorized. It rang three times before the other end picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Lee.” You greeted with a tired sigh.

There was a beat of silence before your old friend seemed to gasp in surprise. “...Doc?”

“The one and only.”

“Maker, what⏤ I⏤ I have no idea what to say.” Lee said. “Hi?”

“I think we already did that part of having a conversation. How are you?”

“Me? I’m fine. I’m about to start a shift down in the⏤ nevermind. That’s not the question. How are you? Are you⏤ Are you okay?” The concern in Lee’s voice warmed your heart. This was part of the reason why you didn’t reach out to your past anymore. It hurt to be reminded that you didn’t just leave behind nightmares. You left behind friends too.

You were lightly patting Grogu’s back in a slow, repetitive rhythm. “I’m okay. Doing better than I have in a really long time actually.”

“I’m really happy to hear that.” Lee replied.

“Lee.” You sighed, “I am so sorry that I haven’t reached out to you in over a year,” He tried to interrupt you but you didn’t let him, “and now that I am calling it’s to ask for a favor, but…”

“Ask away, doc.” Lee replied with a second of hesitation.

“Really? Just like that?”

“If our roles were reversed, you’d do the same.” Lee said. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for information on a physician in my area. His name is Daelar.”

His son was sick, his talk with you was interrupted, and the pirates were hunkered down and had them pinned in the lava plains for the last hour and a half. Din was pissed, to say the least. Of all the days for Pirate King Gorian Shard’s men to show their ugly faces again, it had to be today? More blaster fire pelted the boulder he hid behind and Din locked his jaw⏤ teeth grinding together.

“You were supposed to fly in and end this in your usual flair of dramatics, Mando.” Mayfeld growled. “This is not that. This is, arguably, the opposite!”

“Will you shut up before I take a shot at you?” Cara snapped. “I can’t hear myself think over the blaster fire and your whining.”

Din resisted the urge to bang the back of his head against the boulder. When he had arrived, things had started off well until the pirates had a second wave fly in to help them. The good news was that Karga had scrambled some allies to take care of the ships hovering just outside the atmosphere of Nevarro, and that meant the city itself was safe as long as the three of them could hold the line.

The bad news?

The three of them had to hold the line.

“Do we have any pilots in the city right now?” Din asked.

“No.” Mayfeld shook his head. “They’re all in the atmosphere right now.”

“Not a single one can break free and give us a kriffing hand?” Cara asked.

“Those pilots up there weren’t trained. They’re basically volunteers.” Mayfeld argued. “It’s a miracle they’re standing a chance at all right now! We pull even one out⏤”

Cara and Mayfeld continued to argue from either side of him, and Din lifted his communicator. There was one pilot in the city he knew about. He knew she wasn’t already in the air because she technically only in training⏤ she was his literal last line of defense. 

“Marshal?” Nima answered.

Cara’s glare left Mayfeld and snapped to him. “Is that⏤”

“Nima, I need you to get the N-1 and give us some cover. Can you do that?”

“Uh, yeah! I, um, okay. Sure.” Nima replied and he didn’t miss the nervous tones in her voice. “Send me your coordinates.”

The line went dead and Cara grabbed him by the arm. “Call her back. She shouldn’t be out here.”

“We need someone to fly the N-1 out here.” Din argued. “She’s out best bet.”

“She’s still learning!” Cara snapped. Mayfeld continued to fire over the blaster any opportunity he was given in hopes to keep the pirates from coming closer. “It’s dangerous.”

“It’s necessary.” Din retaliated. 

“And that makes it okay?!” Cara yelled. She motioned to the area around them. “Would you let Soran throw herself into danger because someone deemed it ‘necessary’?!”

Din took in a breath through his nose. No. He wouldn’t. Din understood Cara’s concern, and he wasn’t denying that he’d react the exact same way if he were in her shoes. The problem was, in this moment right here, it was the only feasible option he had.

“As fun as this all is,” Mayfeld drew the attention to him, “It’d be great if I got a little help here!”

Din activated one of his bombs and hucked it over the boulder. The second it detonated, the three of them stood and began to fire into the fray of pirates half hidden in the smoke of the bomb. They managed to push the pirates back just a bit more before they were forced to duck again.

“Cara,” Din said, keeping his voice firm with determination, “Nima won’t be hurt. I swear to you. We’ll have her fire onto the pirates and leave. There’s nothing she can’t outrun in that ship.”

Cara continued to glare at him, but finally gave him a curt nod. Mayfeld threw his hands up. “Great! Glad to know we’re all made up before the pirates gut us.”

“What did I say about your whining?” Cara snapped at him.

Din let out a sigh. Today was going to be a long, long day.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that a knock came at the door. The hours spent alone had only made you wired and jittery. Grogu would have spurts, moments, when his energy seemed to return, but they were short lived. He still had a significantly lessened appetite compared to his baseline. Add to that the fact that Din was still MIA, and you were a borderline mess. 

You pulled the door open, Grogu still in your arms, and your eyes landed on Daelar. He looked as grumpy and bitter as the first day you met him, but now his annoyance had swapped to anger. He stepped into the house, with no preamble, and scoffed.

“It’s an abuse of power to pull me away from the clinic.” Daelar said. “I didn’t realize the Marshal was so selfish.”

“He’s not.” You already wanted to wring his neck. “He’s out doing his job right now.”

“Oh, preventing parking violations on the landing pad then?”

“Fighting pirates, you ass.” You defended Din. “Now, why don’t you shut up and do your job?” Daelar shifted uncomfortably and you led him deeper into the house. You sat down on the couch, beside your blaster, and Daelar sat down a few seats down from you. “Grogu is still coughing. It’s gotten worse. He was up almost all of last night.”

Daelar nodded. “I gave you⏤”

“The nebulizer didn’t help.” You said. “Steam did. Calmed it enough that he could get some sleep, but he’s still not acting right.”

“Sounds like he’s a little boy who has a little infection.” Daelar said passively. “It happens. They get better eventually with rest and supportive care.”

You shook your head. “This is different. I know a common cold. Something is wrong. It’s⏤” A gut feeling. Years of experience yelling at you⏤ screaming at you to act. You took in a low breath to try and relax yourself. “Instinct.”

“Instinct?” Daelar scoffed. “Are you comparing your ‘motherly instinct’ to my decades of training and experience?”

You knew this was the direction this would go in. You never considered yourself a pessimist, but you had little hope that a miracle would occur here. Daelar was a garbage person, and you didn’t think that was going to have changed suddenly. Apparently, you were only allowed respect if Din were in the same room as you. Luckily, you planned for this.

“Listen to me, you kriffing fraudulent ass.” You started. Daelar jumped up from where he sat, but you stayed seated. The picture of ease. “You’re going to give me your stethoscope so I can listen to my son’s lungs and then whatever medication I deem necessary you’ll bring to me.”

“You insolent little bug.” Daelar snapped. “Who do you think you are to boss me around? I’ll do what you want? Really? Or what?” He motioned to the couch cushion where your blaster sat. “You’ll shoot me?”

You stood up, setting one hand on Grogu’s sleeping back, and kept a steady glare on the man in front of you. “No. As fun as it would be to threaten you with bodily harm, I know you still won’t take me seriously.” Daelar smirked as if he had won, but you took a step toward him and that smug look faltered. “So, I called a friend who pulled some strings and got me some information.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffed.

“I know you won’t understand the concept of mingling with fellow medical staff. You seem like the kind of physician to sneer and look down on any nurse or tech you pass.” You said. “But there’s benefit in treating others with respect and making friends. For example, it offers all sorts of connections. The kind of connections that allow someone like me to find out why you’re working in a small, backwater city like Nevarro.” Daelar’s entire body stiffened and it made a smile creep onto your features. “Yeah. I know about Harris Twiala, the patient you killed because you came to work drunk. Jane Reem, the patient you paralyzed because you mis-dosed her bacta tank. Yelna Tip⏤”

Daelar lifted a hand as if he wanted to hit you, but instead he pointed a thick finger in your face threateningly. “You shut up.”

“You’re a shitty physician which is why I know you’re familiar with the concept of making deals and blackmail.” You said. “That’s how you’ve bounced around so many hospitals. You sign a deal and your sins get swept under the rug. Here’s your next opportunity, Daelar. You help me out here, and I don’t report you to the Inner Rim medical board. And you know what would happen if a single board member saw your file.”

He wouldn’t just be out of a job. He’d be a pariah. There wouldn’t be a single clinic in the galaxy that would take him. His face would be posted alongside all the other physicians and nurses who had harmed patients through negligence or malice. Daelar took a step back from you. He rooted around his inner coat pocket and pulled out a stethoscope to hand to you. You took it with a smile and sat back down. 

Peeling Grogu away from your chest, the boy weakly opened his eyes and began to fuss. “I know, I know. I’ll be quick, baby.” You cooed. Listening to his lungs, it sounded junky. Wheezing and congestion. You tossed the stethoscope back to the man and let Grogu cuddle back to your chest.

“You were a nurse then?” Daelar assumed.

“The biggest danger is a bacterial infection running wild. He could become septic.” You thought aloud. “I need fluids. IV gear. Antibiotics and antipyretics.” You shot him a look. “I want those last two in ingredient form. I can compound it myself. I don’t trust your math, Daelar.”

He chuckled, bitter, “Fine. Less work for me.” His glare deepened. “But that’s it. I bring it, and you keep your kriffing mouth shut.”

“Deal.” You spat. “Be quick about it.”

Daelar made his way to the front door and you followed him. He paused by the door to shoot you a smile. A chuckle left him. “You’re the kind of nurse I would’ve liked. You get shit done. I can respect that.”

“Bring me the meds, or next time I see you I’ll do this again but at blaster point.” You threatened.

He nodded once then stepped out of your house. You stood in the doorway, lightly rocking Grogu, until he was entirely out of sight. Right before you stepped back into the house, you heard the sound of a distant explosion. Too far for you to really gain any insight from the sound, but close enough to fill your blood with ice.

“Din.” You mumbled, heart clenching in fear.

Nima had done her job exactly right. She flew in, rained fire on the pirates, and sped away before anyone could even attempt to shoot her down. From there they were able to mow down some pirates and push the remainders to the edge of the lava plains. Din had been here once before, and as he stared at the base through his spyglass he grunted in annoyance.

“Didn’t I blow that up last time I was here?” He asked.

“Yeah. It’s been abandoned since. No Imps.” Cara sighed. “Apparently, the pirates are calling it home now.”

Mayfeld shook his head. “Well, since you blew it last time, how about we just blow it again. Easy peasy, then we call it a day.” He huffed. “I’m ready for a strong drink. Call Nima⏤”

“No.” Cara snapped. “She’s done her part.”

“Fine. So we storm an impenetrable ex-Imperial base, just the three of us, and hope for the best.” Mayfeld began to readjust the sights on his weapon. “Dream team.” He muttered the last bit under his breath. “I am asking Karga for a raise as soon as this is over⏤ if we survive.”

Din shrugged. “You’re already dead, Mayfeld, remember?”

Cara, despite looking exhausted, let out a soft chuckle and Mayfeld rolled his eyes. As ready as he was for this day to be over, Din was not going to half ass this just to be done early. He wanted to end this. Once and for all. Leave no foot hold on Nevarro for the pirates to even consider occupying. In fact, Din’s new mission in life was to wipe Gorian Shard’s existence from the galaxy.

“Let’s go.” Din stood and the others mirrored his action.

It didn’t take too long to get to the hollowed out Imperial base and they weren’t attacked by a single pirate during the journey. A major red flag in Din’s opinion. As they settled outside a blackened shell of a door, they rechecked their weapons. 

Mayfeld sighed. “Does this scream trap to anyone else?”

“Yes.” Cara agreed.

“But we’re still going in?”

Din was the one to answer this time. “Yes.”

“Perfect.” Mayfeld nodded. “Just double checking.”

After a count, they filed in with blasters raised, but were met with the empty, devastated halls. Walls and floors were scorched from an old blast. Din changed the sensor in his helmet and that was when the enemy was revealed to him. Up ahead, around a corner, a group of pirates crouched waiting for them. Din held up a hand to stop them then motioned for Cara and Mayfeld to circle around while he approached head on. His beskar would hold up against whatever they had much better than Cara and Mayfeld’s leather based armor. 

Din waited a beat for his deputies to get in place then he pulled a bomb from his bandolier, activated it, and threw it to the mouth of the hallway. The pirates scrambled seconds before it detonated and Din sprinted forward. His initial attack had only taken out the two closest, but the others were prepped for a fight. Din dodged a few swings from a vibroblade and fired his blaster into the chest of someone approaching him from the side. The sound of Cara and Mayfeld attacking from the other side filled the air. They met in the middle, things going well, when Din saw a pirate on the floor⏤ one they believed to be dead⏤ lift himself up and aim a blaster at Mayfeld.

He dove to the side to take the blast himself, but Din realized his mistake when the blaster fire turned out to be a taser rather than a bolt. It hit him in the center of the chest and the power behind the blow sent him flying back. Din’s entire body tensed as the current ran through him, but it faded after a second leaving him twitching on the ground with a groan.

Din mumbled a string of curses in Basic, Mando’a, and a few other languages he had tucked away in the back of his head. Maker, that hurt. A hand wrapped under his arm and lifted him up off the ground. The only person strong enough to lift his heavy form with such ease was Cara.

“Are you insane?” Cara scoffed.

“I’m fine.” Din grunted out. Mayfeld jogged over after finishing the last pirate and his question was only half out before Din waved it away. “Fine. I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

Cara and Mayfeld shared a wary glance before they pressed onward. 

Dank farrik. Din needed this day to be over.

The sun was setting, only a sliver above the horizon, and you were pacing the floor. Grogu was hot to touch. Daelar had never come back with the medicine like he said he would, and any attempt you made to reach him was blocked.

You had considered going to the clinic, but the promise you made Din kept you frozen inside. That indecision had cost you though. Because now, Grogu was crying⏤ inconsolable⏤ and every exposed inch of his skin was radiating heat. You hugged him to his chest as reassurance, held an ice packet to his head for the fever, and rocked him while whispering that everything was going to be okay.

Even though nothing felt okay right now.

“Grogu, Grogu, baby, it’s okay. Shhh.” You couldn’t set him down because his cries would turn to screams, but you knew your own body heat wasn’t helping his rising temperature. You tried to balance the ice pack on his head while using your finger to call Din on your armband.

It rang and rang and rang and rang. For the fourth time, your call went to voicemail. You were near tears. Din said to call if you had an emergency and this was an emergency. There was no way he wouldn’t answer your call. Had something happened to him?

Maker⏤

“Din, please. I need you⏤ Grogu is still…” The child’s cries were interrupted by a round of coughs that kept going to the point you were worried he wasn’t getting air. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath only to go back to crying. That settled it. “I’m going to the clinic, Din.”

You were done waiting idle.

A/N: thanks to all the love and reads 🥰. I love seeing the comments and reblogs and all the thoughts on this story. Good to know I’m entertaining more than just myself.

[elliespuns]

I like that the last of us likes to remind us of how everyone is a gray character and that nobody is a saint. I don't call joel a villian, I don't call abby the villian.

However...

people (abby fans mostly) may call me out on that if they want, but if anyone in that game (besides david) deserves to be called villian here is Abby's father. I feel bad for her, but I don't feel bad for him. I mean, Joel did wrong things but at least he was man enough to admit he did it all, while Doc over there was willing to kill a little girl without her consent and almost did it with no shame. And if abby didn't love her father and had no emotional conection to him, she would have seen how unfair he was.

I once made a post where I was talking about how everyone was being (not exactly a villain) but selfish and unfair in this scenario.

Marlene; because she wouldn't wait for Ellie to wake up to discuss it with her, to prepare her for what she was going to go through. Sure, she knew Ellie wanted to do anything to help cure humanity, but to die for it? Ellie didn't know that, and Marlene was wrong not to ask her first. Marlene was being overly selfish here because she was afraid to ask her. What if Ellie said no? She was choosing herself and others so she could live over a little girl who wouldn't even know she died to help.

Jerry; because as a doctor (no matter if it's in the post-apocalyptic world or the normal one, he should stick to the codex), he should never perform a surgery on a patient who doesn't consent to it (unless the patient is unconscious and it is to save his life, which is not this case). Jerry, as a doctor, should have known better, but he was unfair and selfish because he'd rather kill a girl who had no idea what's going to happen to her just to live his life in a world that'd be better because of her—while this kid would never have a chance to.

Joel; because he took the only thing that mattered to Ellie just because he was afraid of losing her. Sure, it was the right thing in his eyes (I would do the same), but he knew he was doing wrong by Ellie. Because when Marlene said "It's what she'd want... and you know it" there was this look on his face where you could decipher the fear he had for not respecting the girl's wishes. He knew this was going to have consequences. But he didn't care. She was safe in his arms, and that was what mattered to him. Selfish. Yet Joel was the only one who was being unfair, but at least he did it for love. For the love he had for the kid who he wanted to have a life that he knew she never had in Jackson, where he was headed with her.

Every one of these people would be selfish in Ellie's eyes, and some of them would even be so-called villains in this scenario. I don't think there's black and white; there's gray everywhere, but what I know is that this scene and everyone's decisions and actions are so complex that I fear none of us could ever cover it if we tried.

[tellmegoodbye]

Hello everyone,

Happy LONE STAR DAY!!

I have a few housekeeping things to talk about before I return to our usual Music Monday format, but I know we're all excited for tonight so I will try to keep this brief.

If you would like to check out our playlist for the countdown event you can find that here.

Since we are getting new episodes now, I thought it would be a cool idea for a new way to participate in the tag. If you have a song that you relate to the new episodes, share them with us!

Please continue to refer to this post for any new Music Monday info, or if you just need a refresher on how the tag works.

Here's a quick overview of what Music Monday is for those of you who are new here. You share your songs that you relate to the show, its characters, storylines, fanfics, etc. All songs are added to their respective playlists and your explanations are added to the docs I have created for each playlist.

Reminder: Make sure to either tag me in your posts OR you can use the 911ls music mondays tag so that I can find and reblog your contributions.

Okay, now that we've got that out of the way, onto my songs for the week!

---

Leave Out All The Rest - Linkin Park

I dreamed I was missing You were so scared But no one would listen Cause no one else cared After my dreaming I woke with this fear What am I leaving When I'm done here?

Don't be afraid I've taken my beating I've shared what I've made I'm strong on the surface Not all the way through I've never been perfect But neither have you So, if you're asking me, I want you to know

When my time comes Forget the wrong that I've done Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed And don't resent me And when you're feeling empty Keep me in your memory Leave out all the rest

This song is a reflection on the way we live our lives and how we will be remembered when we're gone. When I think about these lyrics in the context of Lone Star, they could really apply to any character, but Gabriel is who specifically comes to my mind for this song.

To me, this is Gabriel's message to Carlos. He's spent a lot of time reflecting on his own mistakes and has struggled to express the love he has for his son, but he hopes that Carlos will remember him as someone who never stopped trying and who always strived to be better. He didn't always get it right, but he looks at Carlos and feels so much love and pride, and he wants Carlos to know that and to see that.

Zzyzx Rd. - Stone Sour

Propped up by lies and promises Saving my place as life forgets Maybe it's time I saw the world

I'm only here for a while But patience is not my style And I'm so tired that I gotta go

What am I supposed to hide now? What am I suppose to do? Did you really think I wouldn't see this through Tell me I should stick around for you Tell me I could have it all I'm still too tired to care and I gotta go

I'm over existing in limbo I'm over the myths and placebos I don't really mind if I just fade away

I'm ready to live with my family I'm ready to die in obscurity 'Cause I'm so tired that I gotta go

This is a song written from the perspective of someone struggling with addiction. The narrator addresses his loved ones with a sort of brutal honesty about his feelings towards life, but it's also a song about love and support at the same time. It's about someone who is there for you even when you're in your worst moments and can't see a way out.

This song reminds me of TK and Owen in s1. Owen is ready to do whatever he has to do in order to help TK, and TK lets him in as much as he can, but these lyrics are also an realistic viewpoint on the state of his mental health in the aftermath of his suicide attempt. He knows Owen loves him and is there for him, but he still needs to find that healing outside of that support.

Impossible - Nothing But Thieves

Love, it stings and then it laughs At every beat of my battered heart A sudden jolt, a tender kiss I know I'm gonna die of this And that's because

I could drown myself in someone like you I could dive so deep I never come out I thought it was impossible But you make it possible

I'll take the smooth with the rough Feels so fucked up to be in love Another day, another night Stuck in my own head but you pull me out You pull me out

I really hit y'all with a couple angsty gems today, so I should probably round this post out with a more upbeat song. This song screams Tarlos to me, and reminds me of the early days of their relationship where everything is new and overwhelming, but it also just feels right at the same time. They've come to that realization that what they have is something special, and that they might have found their soulmate. Before they met, such a notion felt impossible to them.

@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos

Tags!

@eclectic-sassycoweyes @literateowl @carlos-tk @paperstorm @guardian-angle22

@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh

@nancys-braids @captain-gillian @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @sweettkstrand

@toomanycupsoftea @corsage @certifiedflower @goldenskykaysani @reeeallygood

+ open tag

please tell me if you would like to be added/removed from my tag list

[lovemari]

IMPORTANT: Hello! My old account, Lovemari, got deleted. Therefore, I had to make a new one. I'm honestly pretty upset about this so I'll take some time to recover! Thankfully, all my posts are saved as I write them in google docs before posting. Please like and reblog so I can reach my old followers and potentially new ones!

Scaramouche - Forbidden Love

Reminder: I'm not an experienced writer so construction criticism is always welcome! Also, I write for fun. I just wanted to share my work around the world!

The balladeer has quite the special relationship with you. It definitely caused a great commotion in the Fatui. Though, it's no surprise at all. Absolutely no one would guess that Lord Scaramouche would show kindness and respect to one of his very own subordinates.

Those who knew Scaramouche’s personality or him on a personal level, were the most shocked. Scaramouche has never once had a conversation with his soldiers without any sort of yelling or abuse.

Some said that maybe the 6th had a crush on you. Others were quick to dismiss it. There was no way someone as cold as Scaramouche would even think about love.

A group theorized that you were possibly someone who knew Scaramouche before he became one of the almighty harbingers.

It was exactly one week later since news got around of Scaramouche's sudden kindness. Since then, you've been hiding in your tent, going as far as avoiding your duties.

You didn't want to be seen. Actually, you didn't want to be in the fatui. You're only here because your father sold you to the evil organization, for his own personal gain.

You were in your sleeping bag. You pretended to be asleep so no one would disturb you. Unfortunately, that didn't stop you from hearing the tent zip open.

You turned away, hiding in the pillow. You wanted the intruder to get the message that you were “asleep” so they could go back to whatever they were doing before.

That was until you were grabbed and forced to face none other than Scaramouche. You felt your body shake in fear. You knew exactly why he was here and you didn't like it.

The balladeer didn't look like he was about to kill, though. In fact, he looked remorseful, “I know what it's like.” He began, his voice somewhat undertone, “To be thrown away like your nothing.” You didn't get what he was trying to imply. You tilted your head, clearly confused, but curious of his words.

Scaramouche wasn't used to sharing his past, so he decided to exclude that. His eyes were looking at yours, “Your father sent you here for money, right?” He checked, making sure the rumors were true. Your face went low, you didn't want to talk about this. It was too much. It hurt.

Scaramouche noticed your expression, knowing that he was right and the rumors were true. Scaramouche didn't know what else to say so he just hugged you.

He felt your body tense at his sudden action but he didn't let go. He also felt that he also needed a hug too.

You squirmed, making Scaramouche let go. The balladeer looked down, “I just thought you needed one.” He knew he was being soft. He hated that. But he also found someone that was kinda like him and he wanted to make an effort to make a new relationship.

Scaramouche got up and walked away, embarrassed by the whole situation. He knew that was unlikely of him. He started regretting everything. Why did he hug you?!

All of his thoughts vanished when he heard your voice, and your smile. “Thank you.” You hummed, “For the hug and all. We should talk again.” Your voice was friendly and welcoming, but Scaramouche sensed the caution as well.

Scaramouche just nodded before sprinting away, knowing full well that the blush on his face was clearly visible.

[mochiimadness]

Hey, I dunno if your still taking requests but I have one!

What about s/o having hair like Entrapta's from She-Ra? I would love to see how they would react to their s/o with that!

Hello, I'm sorry for the long wait! I'm finally getting around to answering old requests, before opening new ones.

I haven't seen She-Ra, but I did look Entrapta up, so I hope I haven't gotten anything wrong!

Neon Leon

Leo is both insanely fascinated over your hair-

But also, very very terrified at first.

Remember when Leo wore that blond wig that ended up being completely and utterly evil??

Leo does.

Leo has flashbacks of this when he first sees you using your hair to grab a mug off the counter that was just out of hands reach.

May or may not have screamed.

"S/o, I don't mean to freak you out but- YOUR HAIR IS CURSED!"

"What- wait no it's just-"

"Don't worry- I got this!" he says, as he whips out his sword

Cue panicked screaming from everyone in the room as Leo attempts to 'save' you

He really thought you were in danger okay-

After managing to convince Leo to not chop off your hair,

You have to explain to him that your hair isn't actually cursed by some weird dude looking to steal stuff

"I was born like this, I can just make my hair move and stuff."

Cue Leo's suspicious squinting.

He does believe you! He just cant help peaking around corners detective style to spy on your hair at first.

Once he gets use to it tho, he's got to admit, having hair you can use to grab things jussst barely out of reach is amazing!

His jaw drops when he realizes you can fight using your hair too-

Your hair wraps around a rather slippery warthog mutant and launches him several feet away

Leo is staring in shock and possible fear

They'd been trying to get a hold on that mutant for ages, and you just managed to grab him no problem???

And launch him like a soft ball???????

Mad respect

Enchanted/cursed hair or not, Leo's just glad it's not using you for evil!

Plus, you seem to be having fun, so he's cool with it now.

Don Tron

Donnie's insanely curious about your hair

Absolutely runs some tests and experiments (with your permission ofc)

He's seen you lift mugs and smaller objects-

But what's the weight limit???

Is it like a muscle that can be trained to lift more over time????

Is it possibly sentient?!

You let him come up with new theories

But as soon as the conspiracy board and red strings come out,

You're lifting him with your hair and carrying him away for a break.

He loves when you help him out in the lab

Using your hair to grab and hold tools or parts

It's similar to using his spider arms, but 10x better since it's his s/o helping him.

Your hair also inspires him to make a different version of his spider arm battle shell-

This one using a more fluid movement to match your hair!

He lowkey looks like Doc Oc...

Villains do their best to avoid you both

Having one person who can grab and yeet them away was bad enough-

But now there's two??????

They are sprinting as fast as they can

Not fast enough though!

You're able to use your hair to grab and swing from walls, catching up to villains with ease

Donnie's impressed, you didn't even need a tracking device!

You two also found out another trick you could do,

You're able to use your hair as a extra set of arms- so you both came to a realization

You could use your hair to hold more controllers.

You two need an extra player???

Bam, you're holding two more controllers

Donnie cackles manically every time you two score extra points using this method

Is it technically cheating????

Maybe

You can't deny it takes a lot of skill and practice to do though, so who cares?

Not you and Donnie, that's who!

Mystic Mike

:0 !!!

Your hair can move?!?!

Please please show him what you can do!

Absolutely loves seeing all your tricks

From lifting a mug, to scaling a building-

He thinks you and your hair are awesome!!

One day, he's literally in the middle of talking to you when he interrupts his own sentence in a huge realization-

"So then I chased them down on the shells hogs and- WAIT WAIT HOLD THE PHONE-"

"Holding."

"NOW ANSWER IT!"

"Hellooo?"

"You can use your hair to paint!!!!"

Cue both of you jumping up and sprinting to his room

You can, in fact, use your hair to paint!

Whether it be using your actual hair as a paintbrush,

Or holding multiple brushes and items at once!

It makes art time ten times more efficient- but also extremely chaotic

Sure, now you both have easy access to art materials, but now your hair can literally spin everything

The guys entered the living room one day and saw it absolutely covered in buckets of paint

You are now banned from holding stain causing items in the common areas and Donnie's lab.

When you two go fight together

Mikey quickly learns that you can use your hair to help climb and scale buildings

Which leads to you crawling upside down on a ceiling at full speed, with Mikey floating beside you, at enemies

There are high pitched shrieks whenever you join the battle

You may or may not be a local cryptid now.

"S/O, they're calling you a spider mutant!"

"Nice."

Big Red

Like Leo,

Raph also thinks your hair is alive

Though, he's more concerned than fearful

If your hair is alive, then should he ask it if he can pat your head??

You reassure him that your hair is not alive or sentient

He's still wary about it though

Definitely gives it suspicious looks when you're not looking just to test it

When you catch onto this though, you start moving your hair 'without your knowledge' just to play around

Raph shrieks

"I KNEW IT!!!"

You'll have to explain that you were just pranking him lmao

He does realize that your hair isn't alive eventually though.

Is genuinely impressed by what your hair can do

Especially when he realizes you can lift heavier objects too

If you're able to lift him with your hair, he'll scream

Definitely has a fanboy moment

"WHAT!? How is it so strong?!?"

Even if you can't lift him with your hair,

He's still impressed!

Throughout the day, you'll use your hair to grab things that are out of reach and hand it to him

Usually it's subconscious,

Like when he just barely got into a comfy spot after a long patrol and realizes his phone is just out of reach

You grab it and hand it to him offhandedly

Or when he's sleeping and the blanket slips off, you'll reach around to pull it back up and make sure he's covered

He appreciates these little gestures so much

Absolutely warms his heart and makes him a little misty eyed.

During battle,

He sees you literally form a fist shape with your hair and deck a rather aggressive yokai right in the face,

Sending them flying down the street

Raph will stop and stare in awe

"Woah!! S/O that's amazing!"

He's so proud of you

Then he realizes the hidden city police are making their way towards the two of you

Cue both of you hauling it towards the nearest portal

"GO GO GO!"

"I CAN'T GO BACK TO JAIL!"

Hey everyone, I'm going through my old requests and writing them. I can't promise I'll get to all of them, but I'll do my best when I have time!

Sorry for the huge wait, life got crazy

[cutekittenlady]

If I could inject Skyfire into the animated verse I'd make it so he and Starscream still have their shared history but it's a tad different.

Starscream starting off as some form of scientist, or researcher. A role he finds boring and is frustrated by what he perceives as a lack of respect. And Skyfire having been created/designed as a military machine (much like Omega Supreme in animated) and like Starscream he's dissatisfied with the role and dreams of being allowed to explore the stars and pursue knowledge.

This mutual dissatisfaction was the foundation of their friendship as they both felt forced into a life they didn't want and weren't "destined" for and ultimately resulted in them siding with the decepticons in order to get the lives they wanted.

Unfortunately they also shared a mutual jealousy. Skyfire being jealous that starscream had access to a wide range of knowledge, a privilege he didn't seem to appreciate. And of course Starscream was jealous of Skyfires power and the fear he could inspire in others (something Skyfires self conscious about) as well as what he perceived a skyfire wasting his potential. This would lead to a lot of built up tension between them as Skyfire would start to feel Starscream didn't take full advantage of the opportunities and choices he was given, things Skyfire would have killed to have. And of course Starscream began to perceive Skyfire as looking down on him.

Of course this friendship would eventually fall out somehow which I think would coincide with Skyfire leaving the Decepticons as he came to object to their methods and realizing that Megatron had no intention of actually giving him what he had likely been promised. That being a cybertron that would let him freely explore the universe and pursue his true passion of scientific research and development.

Now, an important aspect I'm not sure of is WHEN Skyfire betrays the decepticons and/or defects. As it would slightly alter the reasoning for why he doesnt seem to be around in series. Not by a lot but still.

Regardless of whether Skyfire openly defects, acts as a spy, leaks autobots into, etc. he winds up playing a role in winning the war and driving the decepticons from Cybertron.

Although he ultimately helped them win, I think tfa Skyfire would not stick with the autobots. Either because he winds up exiled like the rest of the decepticons (something I imaging happening if he didn't defect until the end of the war) or else he allowed himself to go into self-exile after having lost faith in Cybertron as a whole.

After all, he'd banked on the decepticons being a way to change cybertron into a more equal and free society, but they'd just turned out to be warmongering despots. And while the autobots likely do change a bit after the war, its not enough for Skyfire to gain any confidence in the government. Besides all that a requirement for his full amnesty could have been a required frame change, something skyfire rebelled against. Not because he loved having a war frame but because he viewed it as just another way the autobot government was exerting their power over his body and mind.

So Skyfire is either forced into exile or willing goes into it in order to preserve his own ideals. I imagine him finding old reports and journals and slowly teaching himself all the scientific knowledge and know how that he'd always wanted to learn and partaking in scientific experiments and explorations. All of which hes VERY satisfied to find that hes good at.

He tells himself that hes happy this way, but in reality he is crushingly lonely. He creates an assitant bot named Doc (stealing that from idw lol) and may even start keeping some organic lifeforms he finds around his lab as "pets" in order to have some form of company. Beyond the crushing loneliness though, hes also frustrated to find that despite pursuing the self education he'd always wanted hes dissatisfied as he has no one to share these discoveries with.

How exactly he comes into contact with our main cast I'm not sure. Maybe they crash land on the planet or asteroid or moon or whatever his lab is on, maybe the decepticons/autobots are both coming after him, etc.

Regardless of the exact circumstances, I really like to imagine that he develops a sorta odd friendship with Isaac Sumdac, who is someone of similar interests he can finally share his own knowledge and ideas with. Furthermore he'd probably have some VERY interesting interactions with the Jettwins (he isn't a huge fan of what was done to them, even if they seemingly enjoy the results, as it shows yet again how ready the government of cybertron is to control the forms of regular cybertronians to meet their own ends) and especially Omega Supreme who, much like Skyfire, was more or less created to be used in a war.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Breaking the Rules

The google doc for this fic was called 'shameless breeding kink' so. there you go. I promise I eventually will write something other than seahorse dad Buck.

Huge thanks and love to @hangsters for beta reading!

Please consider reblogging and commenting over on Ao3!

----

Buck and Eddie will always insist that they are completely professional when they're on the job. Even though they're married, even though they're deciding to grow their family, they still make sure to never get distracted. They've got nothing but respect for the strict rules in place.

They're lying, of course. But they still say it.

----

People always asked Buck and Eddie what it was like to work together. 

Eddie understood the curiosity. You got a lot of married first responders- of course you did, who else would be willing to put up with them- but very few who wore the same uniform, much less worked out of the same house. So they always asked, blinking in surprise at the ‘Diaz’ and ‘B. Diaz’ on their turnouts or the silicone rings on their fingers or the matching tattoos, whatever they happened to notice first. And they always asked. 

Eddie would always say, and honestly believed, that it was actually good for them. The 118 had made them team members, it had made them friends and now it made them better husbands. In fact, very little felt all that different. 

It was the same jokes, the same smiles flashing at each other as they pulled on their gear, sitting next to each other at every dinner almost reflexively, the same glances in the locker room. Of course the fear for each other was there, but it always had been. Both Buck and Eddie knew how to close off that part of their hearts, get the job done, run on pure faith until they could hold each other tight enough to bruise on the other side. 

So being married really hadn’t changed much about working together. Which kind of proved everyone right about how they should have realized they were in love ages ago.

But it made it easy to keep things professional. Eddie prided himself on that and he knew Buck did too. Of course there was nothing in the rules about a quick stolen kiss or some playful flirting but there was also nothing in the rules about their team torturing them whenever they caught them at it. They all kept things in balance, the 118 was too important to both of them to start acting like idiots. 

That’s what Eddie would tell people whenever they asked. Even after Buck made a complete and total liar out of him. 

-

A good day at the firehouse didn’t necessarily mean a quiet one. There was a fine balance to these things. 

The bell had rung enough times to keep them all from getting antsy but not so much they hadn’t been able to catch their breath. Every call had a happy ending but none had been easy, leaving them all with the satisfying ache in their muscles that came with ‘making a difference’ being action and not just words. They’d had a long, uninterrupted dinner where it had been hard to find room in their mouths for the amazing food and the laughter. All of Eddie’s share of the jobs were done and his favorite spot on the couch was free so he kicked back gladly, without a shred of guilt. It had been a busy day but it had been a damn good one. 

He got a few pages into the copy of Sports Illustrated on the coffee table, enough to get annoyed at how the Spurs fumbled their last game all over again, before he heard footsteps behind him. Heavy footsteps, hurried and eager even when they didn’t have anywhere to rush to, like they just always believed whatever they moved towards would be something great.

Eddie already had his head tipped back, his mouth already curved into a grin as Buck walked up, “Hey baby…you look cute upside down.”

Buck braced his hands on the back of the couch, his smile giving Eddie the same feeling as stepping into warm sunlight. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, just because they could. 

“So do you…listen, I think you need to go take a shower,” Buck hummed, his voice unusually quiet, almost conspiratorial.

Eddie frowned, not sure he’d heard him correctly, “You think what now?”

Buck clearly only just managed to choke back a laugh, his smile turning into something Eddie associated with their bedroom rather than the break room. 

“I said I think you should take a shower,” he repeated patiently, his lips gently skating Eddie’s forehead. 

“Do I smell that bad?” Eddie cocked an eyebrow, tone light just in case he was imagining that smile, that slightly smoky tone in his husband’s voice, if his pupils were a little wider than normal.

“You smell great, actually,” Buck cocks his head, a secret definitely held in his smile, “But Cap is in his office doing paperwork, Hen is catching up on her sleep, Ravi and Chim are playing pool. So I think you need a shower. And it just so happens, I do too.”

Eddie felt a tightness in the front of his uniform trousers, one that made him shift slightly. It had taken Buck and him a long time to realize their feelings for each other, way longer than it should have done, but even he wasn’t misinterpreting things now. Buck wasn’t kidding. 

“Baby…” he swallowed hard, reaching up to brush his fingers against his husband’s cheek.

God, it was impossible not to be at least a little smug that a guy who looked like Buck was standing over him, ready to break who knew how many HR rules just to fuck him. But he could be smug and responsible at the same time.

“We promised everyone we’d behave,” Eddie reminded him gently, “You know how hard they were gunning to send us to different houses after we got together. Cap fought for us and I don’t want to fuck it up. Believe me, I’ve thought about it too but we got a perfectly good bed at home we can wreck. Here, we’ve got to be careful.”

Buck’s expression didn’t flicker, like he’d been expecting every word, like Eddie was hitting beats on a script and he was a couple of pages ahead. There was more than a little bit of flourish as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket, flicked on the screen and held it in front of Eddie’s eyes. He even remembered to turn it upside down. 

Eddie recognised the app immediately. It was a hormone cycle tracker, something Eddie hadn’t even known existed before he and Buck started living their lives according to it, months ago now. It had felt a little like a military operation at first, though only slightly better organized with Buck at the helm, but they’d gotten their heads around it. And right now, flashing merrily at the top of the screen were the words they’d been waiting to see since Buck had come off his testosterone. Potential fertile day. Ovulation likely. 

Eddie swallowed hard, sitting bolt upright and twisting to pull his husband into a deep kiss, the kind that would have knocked Buck off his feet if he didn’t have Eddie to catch him, the kind that had him laughing with all the joy of a magician who’d just pulled his first rabbit out of a hat and brought the house down. The kind that absolutely was not appropriate for work. 

“Like I said,” Eddie gasped, cradling his face, grinning a mile wide, “We’ve got to be careful not to get caught.”

There was some small part of Eddie’s brain still functioning enough to appreciate the irony. The amount of times he’d been in this exact locker room or ones like it, telling himself to keep his eyes down, to not stare, to get his thoughts in line. Even before he and Buck got together, before Eddie had been able to admit his sexuality to himself, he’d been keeping his eyes firmly fixed on tiled floors, getting into his baseball gear, his fatigues, his 118 uniform as quickly as possible, but not so quick that it was obvious he was hiding. Like the other guys would only need to look in his eyes to know he was different, even if it was in a way Eddie wouldn’t let himself understand. 

And now here he was, back pressed against the lockers so hard he’d have indents in his skin when Buck took a breather from shoving his tongue down Eddie’s throat. There was some irony there, enough for a small part of his brain to notice. 

The rest of Eddie’s brain told that small part to shut up and focus on kissing Buck back. 

They left their clothes in a haphazard trail across the floor of the little changing room before the showers, naked by the time Buck nudged them under the shower heads and reached past Eddie, sending a cold spray over the two of them. Eddie yelped and shuddered as Buck laughed, pulling him close so the warmth of his skin chased away the goosebumps rising on his skin, kissing him until his chilled nerves flooded with heat. The cold had never bothered Buck, of course it didn’t. How could it when the sun itself shone out of his skin? 

Eddie kissed him again and again, gasping, open mouthed kisses as water ran through his hair, in rivers down across his back, flowing from his hands to Buck’s shoulders. The hiss of the droplets hitting the slick tiles under their bare feet covered their moans as the kissing became something more than that, as hands wandered and grasped at flesh, as Buck hitched his leg up to Eddie’s hip, rolling his own until Eddie was stiff and aching. 

“Not wasting any time, huh?” Eddie groaned, biting his lip hard as the tip of his cock kissed Buck’s entrance but slid away with the tide of their bodies. 

“Like you said, baby,” Buck breathed in his ear, leaning down and nipping his earlobe lightly, kissing along the curve of his neck, doing everything he knew got Eddie’s motor running, “We got a perfectly good bed at home to wreck and, believe me, we’re gonna. But right now, you’ve got a job to do.”

Eddie had studied the human body enough to know how to fix it when it broke, at least enough to let it limp off the battlefield or out of the burning building. But he couldn’t say much about the messier parts, the parts that ran on ancient, deep rooted impulses and slow, mysterious chemicals, he didn’t know much about things like instinct. But when Buck moaned those words in his ear, Eddie felt something very old and very deep stir and pop its claws and shudder. He didn’t need to understand it to feel it. 

Buck gasped, all the air leaving him in a rush as Eddie turned them and pressed him to the wall with some force, “Oh fuck…”

Eddie’s pupils were so wide his eyes looked almost black, his eyes desperate to pull in every scrap of light, to see every inch of Buck, “Good?”

“Fucking incredible,” his voice was weak, breathy, but his hands grasped Eddie with a grip like steel, “More of that please.”

Eddie had more to give, he always would for Buck. He locked eyes with his husband as he slowly pressed his cock into him, unwilling to miss a single flicker of his muscles, the way water droplets shone on his eyelashes, his lips trembling as a low moan shuddered free. He tried to burn that expression into his brain, press it and preserve it like they had with their wedding flowers, holding it perfectly so time could never take it from him. So he’d always be able to remember the moment Buck trusted him so completely, welcomed him into his body and gave him permission to leave something behind. 

And it could only be a moment. Eddie rolled his hips, muffling the soft cry Buck gave as the head of Eddie’s cock scraped his g-spot. He pressed Buck with his body, one hand blindly groping until it found the faucet, cranking the water up so the rattle on the tiles got louder. Loud enough to hide the sound of skin smacking into skin as one thrust rolled into another, their movements soon becoming hurried and frantic, they knew they didn’t have a lot of time. If they had to be fast, they may as well enjoy it. 

Buck made those fractured, gasping snatches of breath Eddie adored, each one punctuating the moment their hips met, the moment where they were most inseparable. But still he managed to whisper in Eddie’s ear, urging him on. 

“That’s it, baby, that’s it, harder,” Buck’s voice was strained, pleading, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other slid down slick skin to grasp at his ass, “Give it to me, knock me up…”

Eddie groaned at that, those words yanking him forward like they were a leash tied right around his dick, somehow finding a way to speed up, “Yes. Yes, whatever you want, I’m yours, yours…”

The leg thrown up to Eddie’s hip trembled in his grasp, the hot muscle around his cock tightened, Buck’s voice in his ear sounded so desperate it was almost panic.

“I’m there, gonna…” he whimpered, clinging to Eddie like he was his anchor to the rest of the universe, “Gonna come, baby, please…”

“I’m with you, Buck,” Eddie kissed along the side of his face and down the curve of his shoulder, trying to reassure him with more than his words, “Let go, mi corazón, I’m right here.”

That was all the reassurance Buck needed. He turned his face to Eddie’s as the tide washed over him, as he was pulled under. Eddie curled around him, water breaking across his back, giving his husband that moment before he let himself fall apart. When he came it was blinding, almost painful, it took everything he had not to send him and Buck into a heap on the floor. Heat and salt flooded into Buck, making his toes curl and his breathing hitch, everything Eddie had to give him until it felt like there was nothing inside him but a strained moan of his husband’s name.

And all they could do, in the panting, heavy moments after, was burst out laughing. 

“Oh my god…” Eddie’s voice was a rasp, breathless but he couldn’t stop laughing, like all the joy he’d ever denied himself in his life was bubbling up and out of him, “We’re too old to be doing this…”

“I hope you mean the whole sneaking off to bang at work thing…” Buck slowly pulled his leg down, trembling like he was remembering how to stand on his own two feet all over again, “because if you mean we’re too old to have a baby, it might be a little late.”

Eddie’s grin turned gentle, arms coming around to hold Buck close, “No. I’m certain we’re ready for that…and it’s pretty unlikely we got it the very first time?”

Buck smirked, slapping his chest playfully, “Yeah, go back and tell your nineteen year old self that. See how that conversation goes.”

Eddie winced theatrically, “Oh, ow, alright then…I’m just saying, don’t worry if it takes a few tries. We’ll make it work, Buck.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Buck melted against him, giving himself a long, indulgent moment before finally pulling away, killing the water while Eddie went to grab their towels from the rail, “I know. I just can’t wait to do this with you.”

“Neither can I. Although, if we did just make a baby there…” Eddie snagged Buck with a towel slung around his neck, pulling him in close, face suddenly deadly serious, “We are never, ever telling anyone where it happened. Understood?”

Buck snorted, miming pulling a zip across his lips, “Not a word…”

Eddie smirked, yanking back that invisible zip before kissing him, unable to do anything else, “I love you so much, you know.”

Even grinning and joking and giggling like teenagers fooling around at the back of a class, Buck knew what those words meant and he gave them back willingly, “I do know. And I love you too, Eddie.”

-

People always asked Buck and Eddie what it was like to work together. 

Eddie would say that not much had changed, they were completely professional on the job, they had a strict line dividing their lives at home and their lives in the station house. He’d still say it, even if it was a lie. 

But Buck would always tell the truth. He’d always grin and only say that it was the best bit about the job. 

[thebreakfastgenie]

Wheelers and Dealers is one of BJ's least sympathetic breakdowns--not only to me, but to the other characters in-universe--but it's also probably the episode that most effectively explains his whole deal. That's because Wheelers and Dealers reveals a new piece of backstory: BJ had the chance to dodge the draft. Hawkeye jokes about being an unsuccessful draft dodger and Klinger talks about his various attempts, but BJ had what neither of them did: an actual, for real ticket out.

I could've gotten out of the draft, like Ned Gradinger. Big all American hero from Stanford. Medical deferment, signed by that eminent physician Ned Gradinger, Sr., who offered the same to me, but I was a good guy.

Within this episode, this new detail explains why BJ feels so intensely guilty about his family struggling in his absence. It also explains his anger that people like him because of his "good guy" personality. One level to that is the fear that if he does something selfish or less than good no one will like him anymore. But I think that's secondary to something else:

Everybody wants to play when it's lovable Doc Hunnicutt, gentleman loser. But let me win a few, it's like I committed a crime.

If BJ had "won one" by dodging the draft, he would have committed a crime. I think that's what he's speaking to, here, more than a fear of losing people by expressing human failings. After all, he does express human failings all the time, and he's hardly ever blamed for them. Now, the continuity on MASH is loose at best, so I don't for a moment imagine the writers planned this bit of lore from BJ's introduction, or that intended it to apply retroactively. But let's do that anyway.

What sets BJ apart from Hawkeye and Trapper and even to some extent from other characters is a certain respect for the rules and faith in the institutions of American life. It makes sense for someone from a more comfortable, middle class background to have that attitude. It's why Margaret and Frank set their sights on him initially. Of course, this aspect of BJ is deconstructed as he comes face to face with war and with rules that are transparently arbitrary or even morally wrong. But he really digs in his heels. Just look at Preventative Medicine, where he rigidly adheres to a code of medical ethics and a definition of "harm" that feels almost absurd in a war zone. (Can an army surgeon "do no harm?" Ask Hawkeye in Letters or BJ in Bombshells.)

Of course, this makes a lot more sense when you put it in the context of BJ being drafted because he strictly adhered to the rules, to a rigid idea of right and wrong. Of course BJ clings to the rules; he desperately needs to believe they mean something. If the rules don't matter, if right and wrong aren't so simple, he allowed himself to be drafted for nothing. He allowed himself to be taken from his family, to be made into a soldier, to witness some of the worst things a human being can witness, to get used to the horror, to do things he would never otherwise do, because he believed he was doing the right thing. If doing the right thing doesn't mean anything, he let all that happen for no reason at all. That's a hell of a thing to come to terms with.

Now, what's the big moral argument against draft dodging, if you don't believe in serving your country? If you don't go, someone else will have to go in your place. Now look at Period of Adjustment.

Radar's home, Hawk. I should be glad for him. But I'm not! I'm so torn up with envy, I almost hate him! And I feel the same way about Trapper, and I never even met him.

BJ hates them for being home when he's not. Invoking Trapper here is powerful, because on a meta level and to some extent in-universe, BJ is literally there because Trapper is not. If BJ had taken the draft dodge, someone else would be suffering over here. If he'd won one, he'd have condemned someone else to that fate. Is that some kind of crime, not legally, but morally? Here, BJ is on the other side. Trapper and Radar won a hand: they got to go home. BJ is trying to be lovable Doc Hunnicutt, happy for their good fortune, gracefully accepting that he has to stay. But for once he can't quite do it. This is also one of the only times in the series we see someone really, furiously envious about another character going home, which isn't really relevant here but I thought it was interesting enough to highlight. This fits with how I've described Period of Adjustment from BJ's perspective before, as a shattering of the illusion they all use to get through each day.

Essentially, BJ clings desperately to the rules because all the worst things that have happened to him are things he accepted as consequences of doing the right thing. He accepted them naively, the war is worse than he could have imagined, and the possibility that on top of that, his reason for accepting them was meaningless is kind of unbearable.

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Bit of a late update! Was playing cod lmao

Went into this chapter not knowing what to do with the two idiots, but the moment I put them in a room together, they just start writing themselves...

Also, the formatting on Google Docs decided to fucking change out of nowhere and it really annoyed me.

Price frowns at the three of them, displeasure and concern flitting in his eyes as he examines the state they’re in. Ghost is sure they’re quite the sight. Soap’s head is covered in blood, his eyes red from crying and with a pale skin, he looks like a bad cosplay of a zombie. Ghost is so tense he feels like his bones will snap, his muscles about as cooperative as a stone wall. Gaz is faring better appearance wise, but the Sergeant has been uncharacteristically quiet ever since they landed.

“Well? I assume you’ve found something.” Price squints, still unsure of what he’s supposed to do with his soldiers.

Ghost takes it as a signal for him to begin debrief, and he stands up on shaky legs, muscles screaming in protest, “no intel, two revenants extracted.”

The Captain sighed, clearly hoping for more. The other 2 teams haven’t found anything, the PMC disappearing like it usually does, “any hostiles?”

Now there’s something major they can give Price, “undetermined amount, non-human, sir.”

Price’s attention is caught, the previous frustrations gone, “explain.”

“They don’t have a face, take several headshots to kill, and turn to some sort of smoke when taken out.” Ghost resumes, “they all communicate somehow, the moment one of them spotted Soap, all of them rushed to him.”

Price strokes at his moustache, “I fear we’re not working against a PMC here, boys. This could be the work of one very sneaky revenant.”

Ghost has heard of similar powers in the past - corpse manipulation, illusions, mirroring. None of them exactly fit what they fought, though.

It seems they know even less than what they started with.

“What’s the status on the two revenants?” Price asks.

Ghost looks over at Gaz, who snapped out of his thoughts to answer, “unconscious, both of them. Medics said they’ll wake in a few.”

The Captain nods, “we’ll get them to questioning once they’re up for it. They’re our only lead for now.” he turns to Soap, expression softening a tad, “you solid, son?”

Johnny’s eyebrows raise, and he nods slowly, “aye, it healed already.”

And that means he’s miraculously fine, Ghost internally scoffs. Price obviously heard that, as he says, “take the day off, MacTavish. And get yourself clean, for goodness’ sake, you’re gonna scare a Vaquero to death and Alejandro will hunt me for sport.”

The Scot chuckles, “copy that, Cap”

“That goes for the rest of you muppets, I don’t want to see any of you before the revenants wake up, that clear?”

“Crystal.” Ghost grumbles.

After everyone else exited the room, Ghost made eye contact with Price. “Found a lead on Soap’s Reaping.”

Price’s brows furrowed, “there’s a reason it’s redacted, Simon. I can’t just go around and investigate every military cover up.”

Never stopped any of us…

“I’m trying to keep heat off of you, not endanger you further.” Price crosses his arms.

Ghost huffs, “with all due respect, sir, that’s a load of crap if I ever heard it. You know I’m not gonna forget about it, and I know you’re going to help me in the end.”

They stare at each other for a minute before Price groans, “what do you have for me, Ghost?”

He smirks under the mask. Can always trust Price to come through, “not enough, just a name.”

The Captain raises an eyebrow.

“Konchar. Supposedly, Johnny killed him after he downed his squad, but the Sergeant wasn’t… too coherent at that point.” Soap’s screams still echo in the back of his mind, the way memories have ravaged his Sergeant… it leaves a gaping hole in his chest.

“I’ll talk to Laswell, see what she can do. Don’t be surprised if she finds nothing.”

“I know not to expect good outcomes at this point in life.”

Ghost shuts the door behind him, clocking in a presence on the wall near it. He turns around to find Soap leaning on it, still as bloody as he was in debrief.

“Thought Price ordered you to clean up”, Ghost comes to stand in front of him, trying not to let his Sergeant see just how much his legs are shaking.

Soap gives him a lopsided smile, “decided I look better covered in blood and dust, some people are into that y’know.”

He probably saw Ghost’s unimpressed eyes, because his smile drops, and he looks away for a moment, “wanted to wait fer ye.”

Fuckin’ hell, he hopes Price can’t feel how his chest warmed up like someone lit a firework in his gut, “let’s get you to the showers then, no one is attracted to your stench.”

Johnny pushed off the wall, “I’m sure there’s at least one”

Ghost starts walking besides him, “don’t count on it-”

His left leg decided to give out at that exact moment, and Ghost inhales sharply, fully expecting to have a very up close and personal meeting with the floor, when two hands grab him.

Johnny pulls him back up, “shit, Ghost! Ye didn’t tell me yer fuckin’ broken!” he leads Ghost to lean on the wall.

“I’m not-fuck…” Ghost hisses as his leg muscles convulse, “not injured… Limbo was trying to get you, had to hold it back…”

Flames lick at his biceps, and he wants to close his eyes and indulge in how they relax his aching arms.

Soap doesn’t look convinced, and he gives Ghost a determined look. “Let’s go to yer barrack, closer than the showers.” He wraps Ghost’s arm around his shoulders, and makes him lean on the Scot.

Warmth spreads throughout him, “Johnny, I can fuckin’ walk-”

Soap starts walking, “aye, I saw how that worked fer ye before, haud yer wheesht.”

Ghost retorts, “English, Sergeant.”

“Shut yer mouth and let me help ye.” He takes them slowly to Ghost’s room.

“Much better.”

Soap looks up at him, annoyed, before he breaks character and laughs. It almost distracts Ghost from the pain in his limbs.

Johnny lets him off on the lower bunk bed, and turns around to close the door. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room when Ghost pats the space beside him.

Soap joins him and Ghost exhales, lowering himself further into the bed. He takes stock of the various degrees of discomfort coursing through his body, and feels his Sergeant shift.

“I’m uh… sorry fer what happened there.” Ghost lifts his head to frown at him.

“You’re sorry for getting shot in the head? Fuckin’ hell Soap-”

Johnny twists his body to face Ghost fully, “fer not recognising ye! For shouting and demanding shit, fer making ye deal with teenage me, Reapers know he was a feckin’ idiot.”

Ghost lifts himself back up to tower over his Sergeant, “you wanted me to leave you alone?”

Soap’s face scrunches up in confusion, but his eyes… they shine brightly with his radiant fire, “I- didn’t want you to… see that.” he breaks eye contact, looking away a little flushed.

“I wouldn’t let you go through that alone, Johnny.” He looks at the familiar flames brighten, “no running away, remember?”

Johnny’s features crumple, and slowly, telegraphing the movement clearly, he places a hand over Ghost’s forearm, moving up and down gently. Ghost is fixated on the motion, his world reducing to the point of contact, the heat it emanates.

“Aye, I remember.” Johnny almost whispers, his face still pained, and Ghost doesn’t understand why. Fuck, he wishes he could read minds like Price. “It’s just… I didn’t want ye to see it… but I think I needed it.” 

Ghost nods, as if he has the capacity to contain everything going through him at the moment.

Johnny finally meets his eyes, “I’ve never met anyone like ye, Simon. Ye make me think I’m human.”

Simon’s heart beats twice as fast at hearing his name whispered like that, and he swallows deep buried confessions, words that should never be let out to the air between them, “you are human.” 

“No. And neither are you. But we could pretend, right?” Johnny gives him a smile, and removes his hand from Simon’s. He wants to chase the heat, but knows better than to try and claim something so luminous such as that.

Simon closes his eyes, as if that would help the temptation, “we could pretend.”

When he opens his eyes again, he notices the stains of red still marring Soap’s head. Simon groans as he stretches towards the side table next to the bed, rummaging through one of the drawers.

Johnny leans in, “what are ye lookin’ fer?”

He grabs the pack of wet wipes and groans again on his way back to his previous position, “bring your face here, Sergeant.”

Johnny raises a brow but follows Simon’s lead. He opens the pack and fishes out a couple wipes, “stay still.”

Simon takes Johnny’s chin and turns his face to the side, bringing the wipe up and cleaning his temples with the same concentration and accuracy he would use in the field to line up a sniper shot. He uses up several, leaving a pile of pale pink wipes on the bed between them, but once the right side is clean he turns Johnny’s head again, observing how he closed his eyes.

He puts too much trust in him, Simon thinks to himself. He can’t help but feel comforted by the fact.

He cleans the left temple, following the small rivers the blood made on Johnny’s cheek. Once he’s done, he takes a few seconds to just… gaze at Johnny. He doesn’t avert his eyes when Johnny’s flutter open, the bright blue completing the vision he is.

They sit in silence for what feels like hours, just looking for the sake of it, just staring because they can. Because they both survived today.

A yawn from Soap breaks the spell they were both trapped in. “You still reek, Sergeant. Get yourself to showers and fuckin’ sleep.” Ghost gathers the used up wipes from the bed.

Soap hesitates, and gets up. “Aye sir. I… thank ye. Fer everything.”

Ghost doesn’t look at him, “don’t mention it.”

The door clicks behind his Sergeant, and Ghost makes to lay down. He’s too fucking exhausted to drag himself to the top bunk.

He settles in, staring up at the bars supporting the mattress above him. For once his mind is calm, his chest is warm, and all he can think about is the phantom feeling of flames caressing his forearm.

Ghost supposes he was dead tired, as he falls asleep more easily than he remembers he was ever capable of. 

He startles awake to the feeling of multiple hands grasping at him, “FUCKIN’-” Ghost jumps away from the bed, watching the hands return to the ground.

He suppresses a shiver while he notes the sun starting to set. Did it really take the bastards of Limbo several hours to try that shit on him?

Maybe his good mood leaked to them. He won’t look a gifting horse in the mouth.

Price’s voice fills his mind, “glad you feel better, Sleeping Beauty. Up and at ‘em, Lieutenant. The revenants woke up.”

Ghost opens the door to see the Captain smoking on a half-spent cigar. “You really have nothing better to do than stand and wait for me to get up?”

Price takes another breath of smoke, “I know when you start waking up, Simon.”

Right, Price probably knows his own brain better than himself.

“That’s for certain. Let’s move.”

When they reach medical, Ghost unfortunately spots Graves out of everyone looking around the beds. The fuck is he searching for?

“Revenants are in the back, behind the curtain. We wait for Soap and Gaz here.” Price informs him privately, before calling the American, “Graves, lost a soldier in medical?”

The man whips his head around, covering a surprised face with a shitty smile, “John! Just making sure none of our forces got hurt in the latest mission.” the bullshit couldn’t smell stronger, Ghost rolls his eyes.

Johnny and Garrick open the doors, and Ghost watches Graves’ face curl into shock for half a second before returning to its usual, easy going smile. Strange tosser, that one. Ghost wouldn’t trust him with a dart gun at his 6.

“Ghost”, Johnny approaches him, and he immediately turns his attention to his Sergeant, “you solid?”

“Affirm” he walks nearer to him, standing at attention.

Price nods to Gaz, probably exchanging a couple of words through his power, and addresses the group, “Vargas and Parra are busy with managing the base, they let us know we can go ahead and speak with the revenants. Keep questions to a minimum, they’re likely still disoriented from the entire ordeal.”

The soldiers nod and walk to the back, staying a step behind the Captain as he slowly moves the curtains to the side.

Ghost analyzes the two sitting in their beds. One man, light brown hair and moustache, fit, dog tags peeking above his hospital gown. Soldier, American, if Ghost had to guess. The other, a woman, instantly locked eyes with the captain, a band holding her long dark brown hair back. Her skin glistens oddly at the setting sun’s light, her brown eyes piercing and alert.

He looks back at Price, and is surprised to see shock over his features. He’s about to ask what’s got him like that when he starts talking.

“Commander Karim?”

The woman’s face relaxes, giving the Captain a sharp nod, “Captain Price. I would prefer if we stopped meeting this way.”

Shoutout to forestshadow-wolf for guessing correctly who the revenants were! I was impressed haha