#implied jeremwood

[vagrantblvrd]

halo au (definitely inspired but laso) mavin. just gavin being cheeky fuck and saving the day (and michael, who won't admit it that he needs saving) and michael being michael

Ugh, yessss.

My knowledge of Halo lore is spotty at best (I’ve only played three of the games and not in any kind of order that makes sense + random bits of Halo-verse since then and stuff I’ve looked up on the various Halo wikis out there, but I love this so much? Like. Yes. The Halo universe is a deeply fucked up because wow, and super fascinating and incredible and One Day I will delve back into it, but I digress.)

Setting this sometime during the events of the first three games/Human-Covenant war era and doing a lot of handwaving/~artistic license on pretty much everything to do with things? (Because reasons.)

Anyway, anyway.

Everyone’s a Spartan-III and they’ve all been assigned to a special ops unit under Burnie’s command because reasons.

Newly formed after some incident or other that had the UNSC realizing they needed people properly trained to handle Shiny new, and he’s pulling people from other

They’re all Spartan-IIIs like Noble Team in Halo: Reach, right?

Hand-picked by Burnie and Geoff (and Jack) who have been given (nearly) free reign to fill the ranks and so on and go over thousands of reports they’ve been given clearance to read to select their people. Pull Spartans from other companies and all that and have them reassigned to their little corner of the galaxy for training and all that fun stuff.

Michael’s team is this anomaly in that things are a bit…weird as fuck.

Geoff’s the team leader with Jack as his second-in-command, and things get weird(er) from there with the addition of Ryan and Jeremy.

Which, fair, because Ryan and Jeremy, okay.

A.K.A. the “Battle Buddies”, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean, and also there’s a rumor around base one of them is actually a Spartan-II? But neither of them will tell anyone which one of them it is, or if the rumor’s even true.

Geoff thinks it’s hilarious the way everyone on base tries to figure out this Great Mystery so of course he’s not talking. (And when he does it’s to sow confusion and chaos and generally be an asshole.)

There’s this glaring empty position because the last recruit for the team has been held up in transit.

Something about the ship he’s on getting caught up in a skirmish somewhere and just this whole series of improbable events that delay his arrival by a few months. Long after the rest of the team has trained together, gone on a few missions that had them forming bonds with one another that means they eye new faces a bit…warily/defensively?

Because, look.

That empty position being a liability on missions, so Trevor or Alfredo get tapped to fill in. (Lindsay and Fiona too, but those missions end in more chaos and confusion than anyone’s really comfortable with? So yeah. Lotta redacted sections in the reports.)

Anyway.

They become a close-knit team pretty fast, because war is hell and they’re all they have out there in enemy territory and other such cliches.

Michael and the others settle into life on base, get used to the way various teams get selected for what would be a suicide mission for any other bunch of assholes. (Luck and skill and a whole lot of who the fuck knows gets them through time and again even though there’s this knowledge it can’t last in the back of their minds, you know? Too many casualties in this war as it is, and the Covenant are relentless fuckers, but until then might as well give ‘em hell.)

And then!

The last member of the team finally, finally gets to base.

Michael and the rest are in the middle of a training exercise when he gets there and once they’re finished he gets back to the barracks first. Finds some asshole testing out the bunks like he’s Goldilocks and seeing it rubs Michael the wrong way because Jesus fucking Christ, okay. What asshole does something like that? (Not, as one would say, a great start.)

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

And Gavin – because of course it’s Gavin – is just :DDDDDDDDDDDD at him as he walks over to introduce himself.

Which goes about as well as you’d expect, because Michael is Not Happy?

But before he can get into it with Gavin (asshole doesn’t have the decency to be apologetic about being an asshole, no. Just grins at Michael like he finds all of this hilarious) the others arrive and there’s this whole Thing where Geoff’s like, “Oh, yeah, This is the asshole we’ve been waiting on,” and introductions all around?

Michael is like oh, Jesus fuck, no, but of course his life sucks just that much.

Cue montage scene of Gavin being a little menace all over the place, right?

Makes friends with Jeremy way too fucking fast – they’re horrible little goblins and should never have been allowed to meet, but again, war is hell.

Somehow doesn’t get murderized by Ryan, even after the Coin Incident, and the entire base learns to be wary of the two of them when they Plot and/or Scheme.

Geoff is horrifically amused by Gavin and Jack is like.

(Don’t ask, okay. Because those two are a goddamned nightmare and no one is safe and just. Don’t.)

Gavin also gets along alarmingly well with Trevor and Alfredo once someone makes the mistake of allowing the three of them within a hundred yard radius of each other. (If letting Trevor and Alfredo work together was a bad idea, letting them work with Gavin is catastrophically bad.)

Even worse, he gets along with Lindsay and Fiona and that’s like. At least as terrifying as him getting along with the Terror Twins.

He and Matt are just as bafflingly terrifying as Jack and Gavin and no one knows how that’s even possible. (Because Matt, mostly. But also Gavin.)

Through all of this Michael is just.

Annoyed with this little shit of a teammate, right?

Assumed Burnie or Geoff had made a mistake in picking him for their unit, the team. Thought he’d do something to fuck up and have him reassigned if not kicked out of the military entirely, but no, no.

He’s either some kind of savant or luck as fuck to have survived as long as he has given the kinds of combat he’s seen – Michael may have ~sweet talked Matt or someone else into letting him see Gavin’s files at some point because no way this little idiot got here with what Michael’s seen of him in training.

Sure, he squeaks by during training exercises and such, only just getting through/pass objectives/obstacles and looking like an idiot as he does. (And to Michael’s increasing annoyance/resentment the others don’t seem bothered by any of that? Like it won’t matter in the field on a mission with them relying on Gavin to watch their backs and so on, but fine. Whatever.)

Anyway.

Gavin is :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD at Michael this whole time while Michael is >:(((((((((((((((((((((((((( and everyone else is either oblivious or amused at the two of them.

Gavin forever trying to get on Michael’s good side while Michael takes every opportunity to avoid him and all the shenanigans that entails.

AND THEN.

The team gets deployed for a Very Sekrit Hush-Hush Mission Of Utmost Importance somewhere.

(Because reasons.)

Get sent out to secure a McGuffin that was on a Pelican that went down in enemy territory and because reasons and shit goes wrong. (Of course it does.)

A hell of a fight to the damn thing to start with, this fucking Elite with a plasma sword making their mission a fucking nightmare.

Manages to get the drop on Geoff just as they get to the rendezvous point where their Pelican is waiting. Serious enough they loaded him on board with the McGuffin and Jack, but before the rest of them could get on the Covenant forces who have been on their asses this whole time catches up to them and the shooting starts. (Again.)

Odds stacked against them and the McGuffin too important to risk falling into enemy hands, so they have no choice but to get it the hell out of there.

Not quite a Last Stand for the rest of the team because Jack left them with an ammo crate before the Pelican lifted off and anyway, they manage to kill the fuckers who tried to kill them.

(Well, most of them before that fucking Elite calls a retreat and they’re left licking their wounds as they regroup.)

From there it’s going to be a long slog out of enemy territory, but Ryan who’s next in the chain of command goes all unsettling cheerful the way he’s wont to do sometimes and gives a rousing speech that mainly consists of  “Well, shit,” and “I think it’s that way?” (referring to safe territory), and “Let’s go boys,” which.

Yeah.

Michael is Not Impressed, but things could be worse, and anyway, anyway, they had to die sometime, right? (Why not now.)

Things go about as you’d expect for the first few miles, and then Gavin gets bored and starts in on his Questions.

Hypothetical nonsense that – for whatever reason – the others indulge him on.

Ryan and Jeremy have no problem arguing with Gavin over some dumb thing or another for a mile, then two before they switch to another idiotic Question and the whole time Michael is Annoyed.

They have to set up camp when it gets dark. (Could have pushed on through it with their armor’s capabilities, but it’s been a hell of a day and Ryan insists. Doesn’t want them making stupid mistakes that will get them killed because they didn’t stop to rest.)

It’s an uneasy night for all of them, worrying about Geoff and Jack more than their own predicament, which. Yeah.

Gavin seems unperturbed by it all the way he always does, and that irritates Michael who’s already tired and annoyed and that worry for Geoff and Jack not making things better? All of it making him shorter, sharper with Gavin to the point he gets looks from Ryan and Jeremy and ends up volunteering to take first watch to cool off.

Things aren’t exactly better the next day, but Gavin seems to have picked up on Michael’s mood or maybe the whole shitty mission is catching up to him because he’s quieter. Doesn’t stick as close to Michael as he usually does, which has Michael feeling guilty about being an asshole, you know.

(Gavin isn’t Michael’s favorite person, but he’s not the worst human being he’s ever met. That honor goes to Ryan, because have you met the man? Absolutely horrible.) Also, the others like him so he can’t be all bad?)

They trudge on for a few hours, Michael’s guilt about being a bastard to Gavin getting to him – along with the looks he’s getting from Ryan and Jeremy – and just as he decides to suck it up and apologize to him they get ambushed by Covenant forces lead by that same fucking Elite from before.

It happens when they’ve reached some kind of outpost, long abandoned because of the war. Damage and such around that looks like more than one battle’s taken place here and the odds of finding any supplies to help them get back out of there are pretty slim?

But they need a break and maybe there’s stuff here that’s been overlooked by other scavengers. (Or something.)

So of course that’s when the Covenant attack, and then the firefight with the shooting and killing (and explosions and ALL the fire?) and the four of them get separated, because of course.

Gavin knocking Michael out of the way of the Elite with a plasma sword, but in the process they fall into a storage area and it’s just.

A fucking nightmare down there fighting the bastard off before he can get either of them with his plasma sword. Gavin manages to stick it with a plasma grenade he got off a dead Grunt earlier in the fight, and it’s enough to send it packing.

Clawing its way out of the storage area and leaving behind a (convenient) exit route for them too, since there’s no way they’d be able to climb back out the way they came in.

By the time they make it back to the surface Ryan and Jeremy are gone, forced to make a run for it from the looks of things, and there are signs they’re being pursued by the rest of the Covenant forces that ambushed them. (Also, a trail of blood and whatnot most likely from the Elite headed in the same direction.)

And it’s.

Michael knows the Battle Buddies are more than capable of looking out for themselves, that even in the worst situation – which this is looking more and more like one – they’ll be able to handle whatever is left of the group chasing them, but.

Team, and Worry, and Jesus fucking Christ, how could the day get any worse?

(Murphy’s Law looks like it’s in action so best not to ask in case the universe decides to demonstrate.)

The whole thing is annoying as shit because Gavin’s armor is fucked from when he tackled Michael out of the way of the Elite’s attack.

Long, horrible rent in the back of his armor cutting across his shoulders and down to his hip. Didn’t make it through the plating, but it was damn close and the Elite managed to nick the power supply control unit (just missed the fusion reactor, which is good because obvious reasons?) and other important bits of Gavin’s armor in the process.

They don’t have much time/proper tools to fuck around with it because Ryan and Jeremy and them being hunted and all?

But Gavin doesn’t seem to care about getting it fully functional again.

As long as he can still move and the filtration systems work he’s good.

Really.

Sure, his HUD’s dead and there are other things drastically wrong, but the people who designed the armor knew what they were doing and it should keep him alive long to get the job done. (Whatever that is, so yeah.)

Gavin doesn’t say a damn thing about that stupid move of his, which is even more irritating, because Michael had things handled okay. Didn’t need Gavin playing hero or whatever he thought he was doing and he stews over the incident as they follow the trail Ryan and Jeremy (and their pursuers) left behind.

They continue on their merry little way, Michael taking the lead and shooting Gavin these looks when he lags behind.

And okay, Michael doesn’t hate him, no matter what some people might think, right? That initial…irritation/dislike/whatever the hell from their first meeting giving way to this general sort of irritation because Gavin -

Look.

Everyone in the unit has a Tragic Backstory, it’s the whole goddamned reason they exist, you know? Snatched up for the Spartan-III program when they passed whatever checklist they had for it, all these war orphans who wanted payback for what the Covenant did to them and theirs.

And Michael’s fine with that most days, living and working with people who understand what being a Spartan-III means. (Cannon fodder, mostly, even if no one says as much. But also the chance to get a little of their own back before they bite it, so yes.)

But then in comes Gavin who doesn’t seem to take it as seriously as he should. Fucks around in training and acts like it’s a joke.

Different from the shit the others get up to, stupid shit they pull when they’re off-duty or just being the idiots they are. Something that gets under Michael’s skin the way the others never did.

Only that’s not quite right, is it? Because Gavin’s an an idiot sure, but not that kind of idiot? Couldn’t be, if the others have taken to him the way they have. If Ryan and Jeremy haven’t done their best to chase/scare him off they way they have others in the past. (If Geoff hasn’t booted him out by now.)

And then there are the training exercises/tests and Gavin barely squeaks by those, sure, but the whole thing where he gets through them anyway. (What Michael’s seen of his files, different battles and other shit he’s survived this long.)

The way he’s kept up with the rest of them, carried his own weight. (This disaster of a mission.)

Not useless, like others Michael’s served with. Knows what he’s doing with that sniper rifle he carries, and none of the others seem to have a problem with him.

ANYWAY.

Michael looks at the idiot, sees Gavin gamely keeping up with him even with his damaged armor slowing him down and is just.

“I don’t get you,” which is mostly the truth.

Gavin confuses the hell out of him.

Most people get the hint when Michael scowls at them whenever he sees them, stop trying to make friends or whatever the fuck Gavin’s been up to all this time. (Most people though, Michael’s realizing, aren’t Gavin, so.)

Gavin, for his part, seems just as confused when he looks Michael’s way because what is he talking about?

They’re teammates, and while Michael’s an unfriendly bastard he’s Team? Growlier than the others, sure, but not unbearably awful and anyway, Gavin thinks he’s hilarious.

And then the slow, cautious Getting To Know Each Other bit where they actually talk? Like. A way to keep their minds off what they might find when they catch up to Ryan and Jeremy and the bastards chasing them and just.

Seems like the thing to do, what with the odds of them getting out of this being what they are.

They ~bond, and some part of Michael is annoyed at that because the principle of the thing or something? (OR maybe he’s annoyed at how easily he starts to like Gavin or just. Something. Whatever his deal is, he’s annoyed about it. Gavin notices, of course, and finds it funny as hell which is also annoying and it’s just. This vicious cycle of annoying.)

Around nightfall they come across this little canyon/gorge where Ryan and Jeremy have been forced into. Some kind of caves or other shelter they’re hiding in with the remaining Covenant forces facing them and doing their best to drive them out into the open to kill them?

Also, that fucking Elite.

Looks like he’s been through hell, part of his armor twisted and melted – from Gavin’s lucky plasma grenade and everything else they’ve thrown at him and all that – and some missing altogether, but still standing.

Barking out orders and clearly furious that humans did this to him and his troops and it’s beyond personal now.

(Mutual feeling, really.)

Conveniently (or not so conveniently) Michael’s comms are busted – took a bad hit during the initial attack at the rendezvous point – and Gavin’s has been busted since he saved Michael’s life in the ambush so they can’t contact Ryan and Jeremy to come up with a battle plan.

Not, you know, that they need anything too complicated?

About a dozen Covies between them and the Battle Buddies and a nice little spot for a sniper to get cozy for a bit, do some damage before things really kick off.

Gavin still has ammo for his sniper rifle – not a lot, but enough to give them a fighting chance here. Take out the Jackals along the ridge facing the caves, take out the threat they pose and leaving the rest to deal with later once he runs out.

They’re not doing great on the weapons front, Michael’s assault rifle and shotgun, and Gavin’s only other weapon is the Magnum pistol Gavin picked up off the ground after the ambush at the outpost after he lost his DMR in the scuffle with the Elite. (Used it to block an attack from the bastard’s  plasma sword and it didn’t survive, but better it than Gavin, so, again. Yes.)

Anyway, anyway.

Michael’s forte isn’t stealth, but even he can make his way close to the Covenant forces while Gavin picks off the snipers, take out a few grunts before they realize what’s happening and it turns into a free-for-all.

And he does get there because Gavin’s got his - their backs covered and it’s impressive as hell, really, considering he doesn’t even have a working HUD.

Michael feels this vicious little satisfaction when he hears the first shot from Gavin’s sniper rifle, sees the Jackal drop. Doesn’t bother to watch the others fall because there’s a Grunt in front of him and it’s muscle memory from there.

He gets two of them from behind before they know what’s going on, and goes for his shotgun when the third startles and whirls around on him, plasma pistol swinging in his direction.

Things get hectic after that, Ryan and Jeremy realizing the cavalry’s (such as it is) is there to save their asses and a whole lot of dying going on.

Somewhere in there Gavin makes his way down into the fray, Michael catching sight of his armor here and there before losing sight of him as the fight wages on.

There’s this moment – that slo-mo kind of moment – where the smoke clears and the crowd parts and all that Dramatic Moment shit and the damned Elite shows up.

Furious as fuck and bearing down on Michael who brings his shotgun to bear – assault rifle lost somewhere after he ran out of ammo and used it to melee a Grunt and couldn’t be bothered to retrieve it with a suicide Grunt running at him.

He fires, but there’s that godawful click because he used the last of his ammo on another Covie and Christ, what a shitty way to go out, right?

But then there’s Gavin again, the stupid fucker.

This wild yell and flash of blue from behind the Elite as he leaps over a dead body and onto the fucker’s back. Combat knife sinking into the unprotected back (took his chest piece off because it was so badly damaged before and useless) and then he’s grabbing the bastard’s head and twists, the Elite making this surprised noise before it goes down, finally, finally fucking dead as shit.

Michael stares because Jesus Christ, what the hell, and Gavin looks up to catch his eye. Breathing hard and kind of desperate in the way he looks Michael over because wow, adrenaline, huh?

Another Moment where they’re just holy fuck because what a situation and also a rescue – risky as fuck because if the Elite had turned when Gavin made that jump he would have killed Gavin while Michael watched and just.

A whole lot going on between them before some asshole Grunt fires off a shot way too fucking close to them to snap them out of it, remind them the fight’s not over yet, so maybe save it for later?

Gavin yanks his combat knife out of the Elite’s back and Michael takes his plasma sword to use while Gavin plucks up an abandoned plasma pistol from a dead Grunt nearby and they get back to it.

Cut down the rest of the Covies with Ryan and Jeremy until they’re the only ones left standing and then it’s “What took you guys so long,” and “We had everything perfectly under control,” and “Hey, assholes,” and so on.

Scavenging (looting) weapons and the long walk to safe territory.

And, like.

Michael still getting looks from Ryan and Jeremy, but this time it’s because Michael’s being friendly towards Gavin who is :DDDDD about it and things kind of go from there.

Once they get back to base the whole Play Pals thing happens – or the equivalent -  to counterbalance the Battle Buddies and Geoff hates these assholes, he really does. And then other shit happens, like Michael experiencing an accelerated case of Pining for Gavin who is amused as fuck once he realizes what’s going on? (Not like he didn’t have his own case of Pining, but that’s old news by now that pretty much the entire base knew about before he did? But Michael’s so damn surly about his own affliction.)

More missions and close calls – a few presumed dead scenarios and Hard Truths and Shocked Realizations and then the Smoochening.

Also.

Almost literally everyone else on the entire base being in on the betting pool regarding the two of them to Michael’s >:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((( because assholes.

~*The End*~

(Also, though. Gavin or Jeremy – or both – pick up a stray kitten on a mission somewhere and bring it back to base where it becomes a mascot and makes Michael’s life a misery because it can? Meanwhile Gavin laughing his ass off while Michael bitches about this tiny cat that has some kind of vendetta against him and Michael, Michael, please.)

EDIT: Also, turns out Jeremy’s the Spartan-II, something they all find out on a later mission where he saves the day via Spartan-II awesomeness involving like. A tank or something he punches to death. (Because that’s a thing you can do in Halo and it’s awesome as fuck and also fun.)

[detectiverogerdavis]

fake fic title: "Even if tears fall sometimes"

fahc au with more realistic violence/consequences of crime. tough backgrounds for all of the crew, resulting in moments of weakness and anger and lashing out. michael putting on a real tough guy act only to be caught in the middle of the night punching a concrete wall until his knuckles bleed and biting back tears until geoff comes to gently stop him. jeremy finding ryan thrashing around in his bed with tears streaming down his face because of some horrifying nightmare. despite all the issues and the tears and the pain, the crew stick together because they’re each other’s family- their found family.

[stjimmys]

fahc au where jeremy is a ups delivery guy and comes to the maze bank during a heist and says to ryan "look i just need someone to sign off on this" and ryan does and leaves his number and jeremy is like "fucking los santos piece of shit im going home and sleeping for 3 days"

[pouttillo]

#2 from that prompt list, for jeremwood?

sorry this took me 2893 days to write, I had finals :,) tw for implied torture

“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Jeremy was kneeling over Ryan, voice gentle as he searched Ryan’s tear-streaked face. The older man was curled on the bathroom floor, his eyes glued to the empty doorway and his knuckles white from gripping the handle of a gun.

Jeremy knew better than to put his hands on Ryan- especially when he was armed and teetering on the edge of a breakdown- so instead he sat down next to Ryan, making sure to stay in Ryan’s line of view as he settled back against the bathtub.

When he had first joined the Fakes, Jeremy had steered clear of the sinister Vagabond, opting to preserve his life for as long as possible, lest he do something to piss the guy off. It had taken months for Ryan to start talking to Jeremy, and even longer for him to trust Jeremy. After spending nearly a year with the Fakes, Ryan and Jeremy had learned to get along- becoming one of the most vicious and lucrative teams in Los Santos.

Jeremy was used to seeing Ryan as ‘The Vagabond-’ a killer whose mask never slipped- but lately, Jeremy had been given the privilege to see Ryan without the facade.

The two had been getting on surprisingly well- with Ryan inviting Jeremy out on dinner runs and Jeremy pestering him to ‘come check out this game-’ falling easily into the familiarity of each other’s company.

Funny how a few days can change all of that.

Ryan had gone missing- vanished- and despite the mass of people that the Fakes had had looking for him, there was no sign of him. Jeremy had panicked the whole time; he knew Ryan was capable, but for him to just up and leave the crew without telling them? Something was wrong.

Five days later, Ryan stumbled through the elevator doors of the penthouse covered in blood-soaked bandages. He shoved his way past the crew’s bewildered questions and outstretched hands, shutting himself in his room with the deafening click of his door being locked.

Jeremy had sulked for a few hours- feeling betrayed that Ryan hadn’t asked him for help, and then feeling guilty for prioritizing his feelings above Ryan’s injuries- his conscience warring between going to check on Ryan and giving him space to recover.

In the end, concern won out. Jeremy quietly removed himself from the rest of the crew’s bickering over Ryan and went to knock gently on the older man’s door. When there was no response, Jeremy picked the lock and closed the door behind him, making his way to Ryan’s private bathroom where light spilled softly from the open door.

It was there that Jeremy found Ryan crumpled on the floor, aiming his gun steadily at the doorway where Jeremy stood. Ryan didn’t shoot, didn’t react in any way to Jeremy’s presence- and now, it was his job to pull Ryan back to himself.

“Ryan? Hey, buddy,” Jeremy began, voice barely above a whisper. Ryan didn’t look at him, or even acknowledge his speech, but Jeremy continued anyway. “I’m glad you’re back. We all are. Whatever happened to you out there-” Jeremy paused, looking for any sign of emotion on Ryan’s face. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, you’re safe, and we aren’t gonna let anything happen to you.” The younger man hesitated, not sure if his talking was doing any good.

“While you were gone, I- I didn’t know what to do. I missed you, Ryan. I think we make a good team- ‘battle buddies’- ya know? Without you, I’d just be some orange and purple fuck stealing cars.” Jeremy chuckled awkwardly, well aware that he was rambling, but wanted desperately to fill the silence between them. “You have so much presence, Ryan. I don’t know if you see it, but I sure as hell do.”

Jeremy thought back to the first time he’d seen Ryan- not from the grainy footage of a robbery, but in person- how Ryan had strutted into the penthouse, instantly drawing the attention of the rest of the crew. Ryan had locked eyes with Jeremy- a then relative stranger who was sprawled across one end of the couch- holding his gaze for a few unblinking seconds before inclining his head slightly and heading into the kitchen. Those few seconds had cemented Ryan’s position of authority, and a glance around at the rest of the crew showed that they were equally enraptured by Ryan.

The man on the floor in front of him now still had that commanding presence, that effect of moths to a flame. Even with bruises strewn across his body and dirty red strips of cloth wrapped around his limbs, Ryan had power radiating from him. He held the team together, he held Jeremy together, and Jeremy would be damned if he wasn’t gonna try and hold Ryan together.

“Ry,” Jeremy said, voice low and gravelly, “we need you. I need you. I don’t know what happened to you, and I don’t need to know, but- but you’re here now. If you think I’m gonna let any more fuckin’ bastards get their hands on you, you’re wrong.” The younger man meant every word he said- Ryan had become an all encompassing part of his life.

Ryan’s hand trembled.

Or at least, Jeremy thought it did, and that was enough. Slowly, Jeremy reached across the space between them to tug the gun out of Ryan’s grasp- the older man didn’t resist, he simply let his arm fall away from it. Jeremy set the gun gently on the floor next to them, the metal of it sounding softly against the tile.

“C’mere, Ry,” Jeremy murmured, wrapping his arms around Ryan and pulling him close. Ryan heaved a great, shuddering breath and leaned his full weight onto Jeremy, burying his face in the crook of the younger man’s neck. Ryan was shaking, one hand clutching the fabric of Jeremy’s shirt to stay grounded. A soft smile played on Jeremy’s lips- Ryan was going to be alright.

[transvavsquad]

title: infinity times infinity pairing: freewood, jerevin, jeremwood, jerevinwood au: skyfactory warnings: temporary character death summary: The darkness was painful, some had said, and without a torch to guide you and to warm you, then you would surely be torn apart by it. Some thought it was victory‒ the god of Night had won in his battle, and in celebration was wiping out the weak. Others, like Jeremy, thought it was sadness, or anger. The night god had lost his love, and the people had lost their light. The sun was gone. The Solar one had been taken.

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chapter 7: the dawn

It was... really hot, in the afterlife. Uncomfortably hot. The warmth burnt through his skin to his bone, it felt like, scratching at his very core.

Jeremy groaned in discomfort and rolled over onto his side, pulling at the thin fabric that clung to his chest through his sweat, taking deep heaving breaths of hot air that scratched his throat. As he moved a sharpness stung his chest and he scratched at it, annoyed, before he remembered and shot up in sudden shock.

The world around him was mostly dark, a thick fog of smoke and such settling in the near distance‒ around and beneath him were cliffs and ravines of a deep red stone, warm to the touch but crumbling easily under his fingers.

And deep, deep beneath him, around him, flowing from above him and around him, was thick, bright magma, lava, sweltering heat pouring off of them and casting this world into an eerie glow.

He pulled at his shirt in the area that was still stinging, looking around in confusion. Was this... hell?

“What the fuck did I do to deserve to go to hell?” he mumbled, picking himself up and dusting himself off.

“Nothing at all,” someone said behind him, and he felt his breath catch as he turned.

The man wasn’t facing him‒ he was sat in front of a thick pool of lava that was pouring slowly off the edge of their little ‘island,’ his feet dipped in up to the knee as he looked out over the empty world. There were lines of light along his veins, ash coating the roots of his hair and dusted along his neck and back, but little dancing flecks of fire that played around him like they were alive. They might as well have been, as they made their way closer when Jeremy approached, happily playing in the air around him.

Golden eyes, golden hair, golden skin‒ golden scarf, golden chains, golden heart.

“Oh, Gavin,” Jeremy whispered, and the Sun turned to smile at him.

“Hello, Jeremy,” Gavin murmured, and it was like music. “You’ve had quite a trip, my sword.”

Jeremy laughed quietly in disbelief, falling to his knees and feeling tears run down his cheeks. “You were there,” he managed.

“Every step,” Gavin told him, with a smile brighter than anything. “You are amazing, Jeremy, truly.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, sitting carefully next to Gavin. The god touched his arm gently, pulling him close and letting Jeremy rest his head on his shoulder. The warmth suddenly became bearable, from a sweltering flame too close to a dry summer day.

“Why shouldn’t I say something that’s true?” Gavin hummed, dropping his hand from Jeremy’s back. “You’re done something incredible, Jeremy, you raised a god.”

“But... you’re here,” he said in quiet silence.

“Yes, I am,” Gavin laughed. “This isn’t hell, Jeremy, this is a home.”

“Oh,” he realized, in a moment of quiet contemplation. “Oh.”

Gavin was still laughing as he sat back and let it continue to process‒ this was Gavin’s other domain, his true kingdom.

“Why here, though?” he eventually said. “Are you trapped?”

“For a while, yes, I was,” Gavin told him, curling his legs back up into himself, and looking out over the vast expanse of his domain, red and flaming, bright in a way he wasn’t. “But not here. Somewhere between existence and nothingness, between everything and nothing. I don’t know what to call it. I think I saw my twin there.”

“Ah,” Jeremy mumbled. “Your‒ Eternity, right?”

“Yes,” Gavin hummed. “I think it might have been theirs.”

“What was it like, there?”

There’s a long silence. “I don’t know,” Gavin eventually said, and Jeremy turned to see him wide-eyed, confused, vaguely terrified. “I don’t remember.”

He started to shake, despite the heat, so Jeremy took that as a sign to steer the conversation back to what it had to be. “And why are you here now?”

“To heal,” Gavin smiled. “To mend and restore myself again, so that I can go home.”

“Will you be long?”

“I shouldn’t think so. By the time you go home, you should be in daylight again.”

“Good,” Jeremy laughs, and it’s a wonderful thing, to laugh again. “We need our sun god.”

Gavin regarded him kindly, but confused, watching him as he turned to smile back.

“Do you think I am a god of simply sun?”

“No,” Jeremy said, and tilted his head in confusion now as well. “You’re a god of many things, aren’t you?”

“Ah,” Gavin said quietly. “Things, not quite.”

“I...” Jeremy sighed. “I don’t think I understand.”

“It’s easy to lose track,” the god said with a smile. “I’ll explain best I can.”

Gavin reached forward again and let his legs carelessly drop into the bright bubbling magma. Jeremy watched him closely, ready to pull him up‒ keep him safe, if he needed. Because he would.

“There are no gods of objects,” he said, dipping his hand into the thick lava and pulling it between his fingers. “No god of dragons, or livestock, or masks, cats, dreams. To be the god of a singular object implies the singular task of creation of those singular things‒ to watch over them and decide their fates, individually, for the rest of forever.”

There was a moment of quiet between the two of them, the cries of some type of lost soul echoing in the distance, before he smiled. “No, we are all gods of ideas, of ways of life, of intangible things that affect each living thing. We are gods of vitality, and simplicity, of courage and chaos and belief. The first gods were true gods of destruction and creation, of death and of life, of the basics of the world.”

“Of light and darkness?” Jeremy asked.

“More like... of happiness, of joy, of trust and love. And of belonging, discovery, curiosity, and family.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “One for eternity, and... one for rebirth.” He turned to Jeremy with a smile. “For sacrifice.”

Jeremy couldn’t find it in himself to ask what that really meant, but he had the feeling, not unlike when he’d first met Gavin, that he already knew.

“I think it’s past time you go back home,” Gavin said after a bit, pulling away. Jeremy took his hand and Gavin looked down with a smile and squeezed.

“I wish I could stay,” Jeremy mumbled. “I wish I understood.”

Gavin laughed. “I wish you could stay too‒ the understanding part you’ll get to once you leave.”

“Will I, though?”

Gavin’s laughter echoed through the Nether and Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh too, a gentle warmth blossoming in his chest as the sun held his hand. After a while, Gavin sighed the last of his laughs out, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on Jeremy’s cheek, squeezing where their hands were linked again. “If you were so incredible then,” Gavin hummed. “You’re going to be even more so now.”

Jeremy flushed and mumbled, but before he could get any words out, Gavin was closer than ever, brushing their lips together for just a moment and making Jeremy freeze.

“Go on then,” Gavin said against him. “We’ll meet you there soon enough.”

And then he slipped into the pool of lava in front of him, effectively disappearing, and leaving Jeremy alone again.

Jeremy wandered the Nether for a while, the endless maze of near insufferable heat that it was, searching for his way out. It came to him in the form of a dark structure, obsidian built upon stone, and grey rock scattered across the area, around the gateway. His dagger sung in his pocket, across worlds, echoing around in his blood, and he hummed along.

“The last of his flame, then,” he said, and placed Gavin’s gift upon the tiniest hollow at the base of the structure, brilliant gold upon dark glass black.

The second his hand let go, there was a flash of blinding, brilliant fire, and then the darkness of the obsidian was coated in an unnatural purple light‒ violet magic filled the opening and swirled like smoke, calling to him in a way nothing else had.

A last gift. A way home.

He stepped through without caution, feeling the portal magic cling to him and tug at his clothing before letting him slip through‒ like fabric, almost, curtains draping across a window.

Cool air met him as he stepped down on the other side into darkness, and before anything else, collapsed to the ground. He rolled over and watched the dark portal dissolved into nothingness in front of him, fading to dust and disappearing into the night sky through the trees.

The forest was dark around him, the leaves beneath him soft and cushion like, and his body and mind were still drained from events before.

Jeremy slept, comforted by the sound of his own beating heart, and by the warmth that lingered on his lips and across his chest.

“Hey, dipshit.”

Jeremy groaned and rolled over. He rubbed his eyes and held a hand up to block the brightness until a shadow fell over his face and he blinked, struggling to look up at the person above him. Someone laughed quietly off to his right.

“The fuck you doin’ napping in my‒”

“Shh, look closer.”

“...Oh, shit, Jeremy?”

He grunted in a quiet response of an affirmative, not completely awake yet, and the figure crouched lower, becoming more recognizable. A spatter of freckles across a pale face, unruly copper curls that covered his head‒ “Michael?”

“Hey, man,” the botanist said, grinning. “The hell you doin’ in my garden?”

“...wha...”

The second figure‒ Lindsay‒ helped him sit up, a hand resting on his back to keep him upright as he caught his breath. “Where am I?” he mumbled.

Michael shrugged. “Middle of the Draconic Forest. Bottom of the valley you were going to.”

“The... valley? The valley!” Jeremy rubbed at his eyes and looked at Michael in shock. “The hell do you mean, the valley? Jack’s valley?”

“Ah, yeah,” Michael said. “It is kind of Jack’s garden isn’t it?”

Jeremy stared at Michael and saw, in the light streaming through the leaves above him, newer things. Twigs and petals were tucked messily in between curls, dirt marring parts of his skin, grass stains mixing in with the freckles. His ears were pointed, and his eyes were nearly glowing‒ small, pink lights appeared at his back, at random, and Jeremy laughed in disbelief. Michael stared in confusion.

“Well,” Jeremy mumbled, looking at the newest god, “Ryan did say you were on your way to bigger things.”

Michael and Lindsay steadily guided Jeremy on the path towards the opening of the valley, the scattered dragon scales a familiar sight, along with a few new plants blossoming between the cracks of rocks, white petaled daisies glowing in the soft darkness of the overgrown trees and dark belled nightshades hanging low around the archway’s bottom. The veil of magic was a familiar and welcome feeling as they passed into the area and Jeremy sighed in relief.

Jack came up with a smile from his side of the area, holding out a hand that Jeremy took gladly.

“It’s good to see you again,” the bearded man said, and Jeremy smiled.

“It’s good to see you too.”

The draconic god’s smile diminished at the stressed tone of Jeremy’s voice and took him from the couple, gently guiding him over the bridges towards the cabin. “You need rest. This much magic on your body is taking it’s toll.”

“Magic? I’ve never had a problem with magic before...”

“Jeremy,” Jack said with the tone of someone talking to a child. “You revived a god.”

“Ah,” he said quietly. There was a silence before he blinked in realization. “That was real then?”

Jack smiled. “The sunlight isn’t fake this time, Jeremy.”

Jeremy had nothing to say about that.

Jack ushered him into the cabin, settling him down on the bed and pulling his cloak away to hang on the bedpost. “Take a long rest and then we’ll talk about what happened‒ show you where your stuff is.”

“Stuff...?”

“Every ascension is different,” Jack murmured, placing a cold cloth‒ where had he gotten that‒ on Jeremy’s forehead. “You went through a hell of a trial to do it, but.”

Jeremy wanted to ask more but sleep was taking a steady hold on him once again, and he fell asleep looking towards the window, the towering dark structure just in his view.

“Gettin’ real fucking tired of this sleeping thing.”

Jeremy slipped out from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath of the valley air before opening his eyes. In front of him was the window, the dark structure standing in his sight, but he got distracted by the dust specks dancing in the sunlight.

The sunlight.

He held his hand out and watched the light coat his skin, the gentle warmth a familiar comfort and bringing him to quiet tears.

“Good,” he whispered. “Good.”

He stood up and grabbed his dagger without a second thought, tucking it into it’s sheath and opening the door to the valley. The air was now permeated with better smells than just chicken shit‒ roses and lavender mixed with the fertilizer and earth, as well as furnaces churning with charcoal and melting ores. The barrier of magic around the garden was clear and glassy, like an open window, and Jeremy smiled wider under the bright blue of the sky.

Off to the side came the sound of heavy beating wings, and Jeremy turned as Jack descended, slipping from his dragon’s back and moving forward to meet him.

“Are you feeling well?”

“Well rested, yes.”

Jack laughed. “It’s good to see you up and alright. Are you done, do you think?”

“With what I started, yes. But for the rest of it, I don’t think I can leave quite yet.”

“No one was asking you to,” Jack said softly. “You’ve got things to figure out first.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Do you... have an idea? Of what you are?”

“More than an idea,” he said, his dagger singing it’s pride. “I have it... from the source, so to say.”

Jack nodded with a knowing smile. “How do you plan to start?”

Jeremy took a deep breath and glanced upwards again. “I’m not sure.”

“That’s alright,” Jack said. “You have time.”

“It’s strange.”

“What is?”

“Not having that constant stress of impending doom.”

Jack laughed loudly, placing a hand onto Jeremy's shoulder to steady himself as he kept laughing. Jeremy couldn't stop smiling, feeling the sun on his skin once again, the familiarity of it somehow much better than he ever remembered it being before. He supposed it had something to do with what he knew now.

Who he knew now.

"Good morning," he said quietly into the open skies. "Welcome home."

And if he listened closely over Jack's laughter, he could hear a pair of voices in the wind, happy as day, echoing the sentiment back.

Rolling his eyes, his smile grew. "Go take a nap, Ryan."

[emilemiblem]

Jeremwood + “I guess I was running from something. Maybe I was running back to you.” (I want that sweet sweet angst. Or fluff. I will take whatever honestly.)

okay so the phrase isn’t really said, as it’s kind of implied??

Ryan was no stranger to being on the run; Running from his past back in Georgia, running from the LSPD hot on his tail. Running had become a constant in his life from a young age, it had became second nature. Even now in his late thirties, he couldn’t imagine living a life that didn’t involve running. 

Which was what created a massive strain within the crew. 

It wasn’t that the others weren’t also living a life of crime on the run. Hell, wasn’t that the whole part about dominating Los Santos, taking off from the cops and hailing themselves as Kings? A life of criminal activity would be rather boring without the constant excitement and near death experiences. 

What created the strain was Ryan’s inability to stop. Too long had he been running from anything he could possibly find himself enjoying, all in fear that if things were too good they would be stripped from him. He’d learned his lesson long ago that life wasn’t in his corner, and he’d be damned if he went back on it now. Even if it did mean sacrificing anything that made him truly happy. 

Regardless, all the roads he took off on always lead him back to the same penthouse, the same bedroom, the same arms of someone who could easily leave him the very next day. Life truly had a funny way of torturing him. 

Feelings never came easy. His own parents never gave a rats ass about him, and relationships were something laughable. Random trysts in the back alleys of seedy bars with the crew were far more fitting, a chance to experience a sense of close without risking a single thing. 

He dug his own grave when he chose to sleep with Jeremy, and he continued to dig even deeper with every single time he entered Jeremy’s bedroom. He was doing a dangerous tango with one of the most dangerous men in Los Santos, and he knew damn well where it would take him. 

So why did he always end up back where he started?

“Stay.”

Jeremy always requests one thing, and Ryan couldn’t give him that. Staying was far too risky, it was enough to destroy everything. It didn’t matter what Ryan truly wanted, because he was smart enough to know that someone like him doesn’t get everything. He didn’t deserve anything. 

Jeremy has a hand on his bicep, stopping him from sliding out of the bed and heading back to his own bedroom. He had foolishly fallen asleep in Jeremy’s bed that night, the two of them wrapped up together in what could spell disaster if the crew were to find them in such a position. Ryan needed to escape, he needed to get back to his own bedroom in order to escape suspicion. 

“Don’t you think you deserve to be happy?” 

The question has Ryan turning to look at Jeremy, a rather dark chuckle escaping his lips. “None of us deserve happiness, Jeremy.”

Maybe that’s what kept Ryan here, was the optimism he severely lacked. It was a breath of fresh air, something different than his own pessimism. Jeremy had so much hope in his heart, so much warmth that had yet to be clouded over by reality. 

“You do,” Jeremy argues, his hand moving from Ryan’s bicep to softly cup Ryan’s cheek. “What are you so scared of?”

More than he wants to admit aloud, that was the truth. “You.” 

Jeremy’s other hand comes to his other cheek, his face in Jeremy’s hands as the younger man presses their foreheads together with such gentle ease. Ryan doesn’t pull away, selfishly allowing himself to enjoy Jeremy’s company. “I want to make you happy. Do I make you happy?”

“Yes.” He blurts it out with such confidence, not a single trace of doubt in his response. Maybe it would end up a mistake, but the thrill of his answer makes his skin tingle as he slides back into the bed. It feels right, it feels as though he belongs. 

He’d been running for so long, away from things he didn’t understand, didn’t quite want to understand. That was how he ended up in Jeremy’s arms once again, and for the first time in forever , he’s realized that maybe he just needed someone to run to. 

[ao3feed-mavin]

Day 22: Burned

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2LzDRo9

by MadhouseVagabond

In a land where magic is forbidden, being a natural born mage is hard.

Words: 1134, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 22 of 30 Day Whump Challenge 2018

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Characters: Ryan Haywood, Jeremy Dooley, Geoff Ramsey, Jack Pattillo, Trevor Collins, Alfredo Diaz

Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood (implied)

Additional Tags: 30 Day Whump Challenge, Whump, Angst, Pain, Fire, burned alive, burned - Freeform, implied Jeremwood, king AU, King Geoff, Knight Alfredo, minecraft au, Achievement City, mage Jeremy, Mage Ryan, but he’s not as good as Jeremy, Magic, Forbidden Magic

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2LzDRo9

[miss-ingno]

Choosing My Confessions

Fandom: fahc Ship: Jeremwood Word: 5k Tags: Hurt/comfort angst, break-up make-up, kidnapping, implied torture, major character injury, blood tw Summary: Karma is the worst. Getting his heart broken and kidnapped on the same day? Jeremy's not having a good time. Hopefully Ryan realizes his mistake before it is too late.

Read here on Ao3.

A/N: Thank you for 500+ Followers! You’ve voted collectively for Jeremwood | hurt/comfort | fahc, with a strong tendency towards a kidnapping plot.

So it turns out, writing angst is not my strong suit. Hope y’all enjoy this attempt anyway <3

Every whisper of every waking hour I’m choosing my confessions Trying to keep an eye on you Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool Oh no, I’ve said too much I set it up

-- Losing My Religion by R.E.M.

There was something soft about Ryan, Jeremy thought. Something vulnerable that he only caught a glimpse of when Ryan slept.

The Vagabond was never soft. He was a hardened professional, clipped words and judging stares. Mysterious in his silence, a dark, brooding figure; a bad boy straight out of some penny dreadful. That wasn’t what had drawn him in, however. No, it was the delighted laughter following an explosion, the hysterical cackling before the rat-tat-tat of a machine gun. The childish glee at a heist gone right, no matter how stupid the plan. It was this glimpse of something more that got Jeremy to pay more attention. And once he started looking, he couldn’t really stop.

The Vagabond wasn’t nice, no. But Ryan was.

Ryan was funny and kind and indulged Jeremy when he found a stray to pet, patiently waiting for him to be done cooing over the cat or dog, even if it made them late.

It was Ryan he fell in love with.

Jeremy tensed, blinking his eyes open. The warm weight in his arms felt heavy all of a sudden, in a way it hadn’t even when his arm was going numb from the pinched bloodflow. He stared at Ryan’s sleeping form, looking incredibly peaceful and innocent and soft, as the realization sunk in. Black hair curled over his cheek, and Jeremy reached for it out of habit, brushing it back behind his ear, and turned the thought over in his head.

They’d been falling into bed together for several weeks now. It always went the same way: they returned to the penthouse and checked in with Geoff. Sometimes Jeremy waited for Ryan, other times Ryan waited for him. More often lately they came off a job together, Jeremy high on adrenaline and nearly vibrating out of his skin. A hand on his shoulder, a nudge, an offer to drive him home - and Jeremy manfully ignored the teasing he got for painting his Kuruma orange and purple, turning it useless for sneaking about. Jeremy took him up on that offer that first time, and every night since.

I’m in love, Jeremy thought to himself, watching the rise and fall of Ryan’s chest. Figured that he went and fell hard for this dorky idiot, who flubbed if he spoke more than three words, who lobbed grenades with a breathless giggle, who still asked him if he wanted to come in for coffee, who-

Who kissed him, soft and hesitant that first night, just outside his apartment building. Who reluctantly admitted that he preferred to be the little spoon after the first week, who loved to stay in bed and just cuddle. Who trusted Jeremy enough to fall asleep in his arms.

Yeah, Jeremy realized. He was gone for this guy.

The admission left a giddy feeling in his chest, bubbling up with joy, and he snickered, burying his face in Ryan’s neck. Ryan twitched in his arms, and Jeremy stilled, counting the seconds. Ryan’s breathing evened out, and Jeremy couldn’t help the fond smile breaking out across his face. He tightened his grip on Ryan and buried his face in his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind.

“I love you,” Jeremy whispered into the quiet dawn and muffled his breathless laughter against Ryan’s shoulder. He felt light, as if he had grown wings overnight, floating on clouds. He kissed the warm skin under his lips and murmured full of relief and joy, “I love-”

In his arms, Ryan tensed.

Jeremy broke off, lifting his head. The room was weirdly silent, except for Jeremy’s heart beating loud and fast in his chest. It took a moment for the realization to sink in- Ryan’s breathing had gone quiet.

Jeremy swallowed and turned his head, meeting a single open, blue eye. He cleared his throat.

“Mornin’.”

Ryan didn’t react, face expressionless. Shit. Had he heard…?

“Sleep well?” Jeremy asked, forcing a smile on his face. His heart lodged in his throat. “Wanna make breakfast or grab some donuts on the way in…?”

Ryan remained silent, turning his head and just staring at him with both eyes open now. Jeremy shivered. Why didn’t he react? If he’d been awake he had to have heard… But if he’d just woken why was he acting weird-

Ryan sat up slowly, pushing Jeremy away.

“We should stop.” His voice sounded dark, rough with sleep. A cold shiver ran down Jeremy’s spine.

“Alright, no donuts,” Jeremy agreed lightly, shaking out his numb arm. He glanced back at Ryan watching him with that inscrutable expression. “You’re right, I need to go back to my workout diet.”

He jokingly slapped his stomach, and watched as Ryan’s brows furrowed.

“That’s not what I meant,” Ryan said and he sounded… harsh. Cold.

Jeremy bit his lip and rolled off the bed, turning his back to Ryan, hoping- Well, fuck if he knew. Hoping this was all a joke, that he was jumping to conclusions. Hoping if he didn’t see that- that expressionless face, that blank mask, that this wasn’t going where he thought it was.

“Are you breaking up with me because I got fat?” Jeremy joked as he slipped into his pants. His hands were shaking, fingers fumbling uselessly with the button. “Because I gotta say, buddy, low blow.”

“No.” Ryan’s voice was a low growl, and hope sparked in Jeremy’s chest. “There’s no breaking up. We’re not dating.”

Jeremy froze.

Behind him he could hear the rustle of sheet, followed by heavy footfalls as Ryan stood up. He glanced over his shoulder, catching Ryan’s icy gaze.

“Breaking up implies that we’re in a relationship,” Ryan continues coldly. “Which implies that this-” He indicated Jeremy, the bed and himself with a wave. “-means something. It doesn’t.”

“Well, sure, we never really put a name to what we’re doing here, but-” Jeremy licked his lips, mouth feeling dry. Hard to think with blood rushing through his ears, making everything sound distant and muffled. He picked up his yellow shirt and threw it on, before slipping into his purple jacket. He buttoned it close methodically, slowly. Not looking back at Ryan.

“It never meant anything,” Ryan was saying, and the harsh tone made Jeremy flinch.

“It doesn’t have to. I don’t know why I sai-” Jeremy’s voice cracked. He stopped and took a deep, shaky breath. His hands dropped as he finished the last button. “You don’t even have to say it back. We can just… keep going. Battle Buddies, am I right?”

“This was a mistake,” Ryan retorted, his voice unmovable.

“Is that what you think?” Jeremy blurted out, whirling around to face him. He searched Ryan’s face, but it was a hard, emotionless mask.

“Caring is a weakness I can’t afford.” His lips were curled and he eyed Jeremy up and down like he was something disgusting. “Trust me, you’re better off without me.”

“So, what, that’s it?” Jeremy made a frustrated noise, throwing up his hand. His breathing was coming in short bursts, heart hammering in his ribcage. “You get scared and then we’re done?”

His chest felt tight, but now anger joined it, a low burning in his gut. Ryan very deliberately did not answer. And that, Jeremy supposed, was an answer in and of itself.

“This was fun, but you should go.”

“Just like that, huh?” Jeremy grit out between clenched teeth. He blinked rapidly, trying to force back the tears threatening at the corner of his eyes. Ryan stayed silent, crossing his arms. Jeremy swallowed. “Alright. Well, fuck you, too.”

He forced himself to smile up at Ryan, more a baring of teeth than anything. Ryan’s face was a blur as tears sprung up, and Jeremy hurried out the door and down the hall before Ryan could see.

The last thing he needed was to cry in front of Ryan now, Jesus.

***

Oh no, I’ve said too much.

***

Ryan stared down at the blueprints, lost in thought.

No matter how much he tried to distract himself, his mind was stuck on this morning. On the things said and words left unspoken. It was for the best, Ryan knew, rubbing at his burning chest. It was for the best, but maybe, if he’d been a little gentler… made Jeremy see why they couldn’t- If he’d let him know how he felt about Jeremy, maybe then...

For a moment he closed his eyes and let himself imagine.

The feeling of warm breath on his neck, dry lips caressing his skin. Arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. A breathless whisper into the night. I love you. Ryan would open his eyes and turn his head, catch the sweet smile on his lips. Kiss him, maybe. Mumbling those same words in the space between their mouths, breaths mingling.

A dream. Ryan shook his head. A fantasy, doomed to fail.

He could imagine it all too easily. A shoot-out with the cops, maybe. Or another turf war with one of their rival gangs. It only took a stray bullet for Jeremy to bleed out in his arms.

Or a failed heist, a parachute that won’t open, a car bomb in the getaway vehicle. Jeremy’s scared voice over the comms, calling his name, before-

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

Not a dream, but a disaster.

Easier to lose him now, when it hurts less, he thought bleakly. At least he would still see Jeremy at work, and once he got over it- over Ryan- maybe, he could find happiness elsewhere, with someone less broken. And Ryan would watch, from a safe distance and not risk his heart breaking every day, again and again-

“Ryan?” Jack’s voice cut through his thoughts. Ryan could see her head poking through the door from the corner of his eyes, a frown on her face. “Have you seen Jeremy?”

Just this morning, he thought, recalling strong arms around him. On its heels followed the image of Jeremy’s crumbling expression, as Ryan hurled every hurtful thing he could think of at him. The way the light stuttered and died in his soulful brown eyes. Like kicking a puppy.

“Not since yesterday,” Ryan lied and told himself the twinge that he felt at that was because he hated lying to Jack. He lifted his head to look at her. “Why?”

“He hasn’t shown up all day,” Jack said, brows furrowing worriedly. “This isn’t like him.”

Ryan shrugged, trying for casual. How was he supposed to tell his co-worker that he knew why Jeremy was avoiding the penthouse today? Tell her that he was very likely the reason why? That he was responsible for stomping all over Jeremy’s feelings and then kicking him out of his bed, just because he couldn’t handle a conversation like an adult?

They hadn’t even told the crew that they were- were-

“Maybe he’s taking a mental health day?” he suggested hastily.

“He hasn’t called in sick, though,” Jack muttered, frowning. He was glad for the mask as Jack studied him intently. “You’re sure you haven’t heard from him?”

Ryan shook his head mutely.

“Alright,” Jack said slowly, sounding unconvinced. “If you see him, let him know I’ve been looking for him?”

“Sure,” Ryan agreed lightly. Jack watched him for a moment longer before nodding and stepping back out of the room. Ryan returned his focus back to the blueprints, but the lines and words were swimming together in front of his eyes.

There was nothing to tell the crew because they weren’t in a relationship. They were... just fucking, and not that even, not anymore. It was none of their business as long, as it didn’t interfere with the crew-

Ryan grit his teeth. He wasn’t letting this affect crew business. Jeremy would have to learn to suck it up and move on.

Abruptly Ryan stood up, nearly toppling the low couch table as his knees bumped into it. He needed a coke and some proper distraction. He’d go check in with Geoff, see if anyone needed a bullet between the eyes. Or maybe one of their tentative allies needed a reminder why they were working with them.

But when he walked into Geoff’s office, the man was on the phone, holding up a hand. Ryan shrugged and opened his diet coke, leaning in the doorframe to watch. Geoff seemed… agitated. He was running his hand through his hair and tugging on the strands in frustration, his words were sharp and demanding. A pause as he listened to whoever was on the other end.

“Are you sure it’s from him?” Geoff demanded loudly, slamming his hand on the desk. Ryan blinked slowly and took a sip from his can. “Sent it in to Steffie, I want a full DNA report- and let Trevor know I’m expecting him up here ASAP. Jesus fucking Christ.”

Geoff hung up and stared at his phone for a long second, then huffed and looked up.

“Good, you’re here.” Ryan raised a brow at him, and Geoff scowled. “Unless you bring me more bad news?”

Ryan shook his head and went to take another sip from his can.

“Alright, good. Go grab Jack, I need everyone in the meeting room in five.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Ryan nodded, but paused in the door. Geoff looked pale. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Geoff’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he looked up at Ryan with a serious look in his eyes. “Hellforge is holding one of ours ransom.”

“Hellforge?” Ryan straightened. The gang was relatively new to Los Santos, making a nuisance out of themselves at most. Trying to look for a foothold into the city, but most of their territories laid in East San Andreas. If they got their hands on one of the Fakes’ allies-

“Ryan.” Geoff’s voice cut through his thoughts. The sharp tone caught his attention. “They have Jeremy.”

***

I haven’t said enough.

***

“Oh, great,” Jeremy grunted as he blinked awake for the second time today. His head pounded, his eyes felt gritty and dry with sleep, and when he tried to lift a hand to rub at them, it turned out the low ache between his shoulders was due to his arms being tied together behind his back. He strained against the rope, but there was no give. “Just great.”

The day was just getting better and better. If it even still was the same day.

He’d been hoping to throw himself into crew work, keep his mind off this morning. His eyes flit around the dark room, trying to figure out what he had to work with here. A small window to his left let in natural light, so it must be day. The wooden walls gave him the impression of a shed, but with a glance up at the sloped roof he amended to shed or attic. He was facing the wall, maybe seven, eight feet from him. Sitting on the floor and tied to what felt like some sort of pole, maybe a support beam, there wasn’t much that he could do.

Of course his thoughts strayed back to Ryan and their… fight. Break-up, whatever. He remembered that morning, that giddy feeling as if he could fight the entire world. Jeremy closed his eyes, trying to recapture the elation he felt when he admitted his feelings to himself. What would have happened if he hadn’t opened his big mouth? If he hadn’t slipped up? Well, he certainly wouldn’t be here, for one. No one was stupid enough to try to grab two of the Fakes, especially not the Vagabond. They would have gotten breakfast together and then gone to work. See if Geoff had a job for the two of them, as was becoming habit.

Not dating indeed. Ryan was a damn fool if he didn’t see that was exactly where they were going.

He felt a pang in his chest. Maybe he was the fool for expecting skittish, emotionally stunted Ryan to be overjoyed when confronted with feelings.

Jeremy scowled. It didn’t matter now. Ryan had made his opinion known loud and clear, and there was nothing Jeremy could do to change it. The harder he pushed, the further Ryan would retreat - retreat behind work, behind that stupid skull mask, and eventually put more distance between them. Shit, what if he told the others? Did they even know Jeremy was missing? Would they assume he was trying to get away from the situation, to- to fucking brood or sulk or whatever? Jeremy struggled against the ropes for a futile moment, but he was left alone with his thoughts and nothing better to do.

Nothing better to do than to wallow in self-pity, and God did he wish for some sort of distraction.

Behind him a door banged open, and Jeremy straightened. A hand grabbed him by the hair, fingers twisting painfully in the strands and slamming his head against the wooden beam. Tears sprung up in his eyes, and Jeremy blinked as the world swam back into focus. Two figures stood in front of him, a third behind him barely visible in his peripheral. Guards for the interrogator, probably.

Be careful what you wish for, he thought ruefully, before turning to face the leader.

“Mr. Tim, I presume,” the man said, looking smarmy in his suit. Too tight in the shoulders, too big in the waist, Jeremy thought critically. Hanging around Geoff had taught him some taste, even if his boss despaired at his colour choices. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m afraid I can’t say the same, considering the circumstances,” Jeremy drawled, and the hand in his hair tightened. The suit ignored him.

“Now, I have a couple questions for you. If you cooperate, I’ll see to it that your accommodations are adjusted accordingly. If not-” He waved at the guard behind Jeremy, who ripped his hand back. His head banged against the beam, and the room blurred out of focus. A concussion, probably, Jeremy thought. How wonderful. It took him a moment of gritting his teeth through the stinging pain to realize that wasn’t the only thing that happened.

The suit held out a palm, and the guard opened his fist over it, a bundle of orange-dyed strands drifting into the suit’s hand.

“Well. I’m sure you can imagine,” the suit concluded, studying the hair intently.

“Buddy, I’ve had worse than you can imagine,” Jeremy scoffed, rolling his shoulders. The rope cut into his wrists. “I’ve done worse to others. You think this is my first rodeo?”

“May I assume that you decline cooperation, then?” The suits tsked. “Shame.”

Jeremy knew he should shut up. That he shouldn’t taunt his captors, shouldn’t escalate the interrogation, wait for the crew-

“What is this, amateur hour?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Starting out weak, are we? Still learning the ropes?”

The suit’s eyes narrowed, and the guy behind him cracked his knuckles.

“Very well. We’ll see how you feel about my offer after you had some time to think about it.” He gave Jeremy a thin smile. “But first… something to think about.”

The guy behind him stepped forward, and Jeremy resolutely didn’t close his eyes, didn’t flinch after the first punch, nor the second.

Better to see it coming.

***

I think I thought I saw you try.

***

There was a vicious sense of satisfaction in seeing a person’s eyes widen when they saw the skull mask. Ryan didn’t even blink before putting a bullet between them, already pushing forward. Michael followed on his heels, the click of the shotgun reloading loud even in the chaos. They blasted through the gang members lounging around a table, utterly unprepared for the assault. A crash as Jack ran the tank off the street and straight into the garage.

It took them three days.

Three days to track the delivery of the ransom message. Three days of uncertainty, of waiting on the lab results, of the knowledge deep down that those orange hairs had to belong to Jeremy. Three days in which Ryan went looking for him all over the city, before finally finding his phone in a back alley near Ryan’s apartment. Three days of guilt because this was all Ryan’s fault in the end, wasn’t it? If he hadn’t kicked Jeremy out, if they’d driven to work together as usual-

Three days caught in a sense of pervading guilt. Every injury, every moment of pain Jeremy was suffering, every second of torture… Ryan was to blame for each and every one.

Michael kicked in a door, and Ryan watched his back as he cleared it with trained efficiency. Geoff passed him and took position at the next door, giving Ryan a nod. Without another word, Ryan rammed the door open, one of the hinges coming loose and causing the door to swing wildly. A woman poked her head above an overturned kitchen table, raising her pistol. One shot to the shoulder and her shot went wide. A second shot to the head, and the woman crumbled to the floor.

Ryan’s mag clicked empty, and he cursed under his breath.

“Basement’s clear,” Matt’s voice announced in his ear. “They must keep him upstairs.”

Three days to realize that if he lost Jeremy, it would break him. It didn’t matter whether they were together or not, Ryan was already attached. They broke up for nothing, he hurt Jeremy for nothing because…. because he still cared, too much, and he couldn’t lose Jeremy. He couldn’t.

He needed to tell Jeremy how he felt first.

The stairs were just next to the kitchen, and Ryan took an aborted step before a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He glanced back at Geoff and raised an eyebrow, even if it was hard to see under the mask.

“Reload first,” Geoff advised him, giving him a firm look.

Ryan ground his teeth, chagrined, but nodded an affirmative.

The landing was empty, and as the crew spread out around the upper floor, Ryan ran into a set of foldable stairs leading into the attic. Cocking his head, he caught Jack’s eyes and indicated up. She glanced from the stairs to him and nodded, hefting her assault rifle higher. With a grim nod, Ryan cautiously took one stair at a time.

The attic was rather small. A low, sloped roof, two support beams, maybe twenty feet wide-

A thud followed by a muffled noise.

Ryan spun around, gun raised. A burly man was half hidden behind one of the wooden supports, leg pulled back as if in the middle of kicking something- or someone. Ryan didn’t waste any time, taking aim and pulling the trigger three times rapidly. The first hit the guy in the shoulder, the second in the chest. The third went wide as the man curled in on himself. Ryan stepped up and put a bullet in his head, just to be safe.

A gasp drew his attention, eyes flickering to his right.

“Ry-Ryan?”

The air escaped his lungs in a rush at the familiar voice.

“Jeremy.”

Jeremy coughed, curling in on himself. Ryan gave him a quick once-over. He was tied to the support beam, and his nose looked swollen. There was dried blood on his face, and bruises around his eyes, on his cheeks. His wrists were tied behind the pole, and Ryan hurriedly dropped down, pulling out a knife to cut him free. The skin was rubbed raw where the rope was drawn too tightly, and Ryan bit down a wince of sympathy.

“Talk to me, Jeremy,” he demanded in a low voice, carefully loosening the rope around his hands. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Just some bruised ribs, I think,” Jeremy replied lightly, before coughing again. Ryan felt a twinge in his chest as he sat back, drawing Jeremy’s hands up in front. Jeremy rolled his shoulders and grimaced. “And generally sore. Didn’t get many bathroom breaks.”

Ryan didn’t know what to say. His throat felt thick, dry and swollen. So instead he turned his head away, finger slipping under the mask to press the talk button on the comm.

“I found him. He’s upstairs.”

“Roger that,” Geoff responded immediately. “Jack, head up with the first aid kit. The rest of us will clear out the house, make sure we catch every last one of them. Gavin, pull up the ambulance.”

“On it,” Gavin said.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” Jack promised, but Ryan was already tuning them out again.

Jeremy raised a hand to pat down his hair, and Ryan’s gaze followed the motion. He took in the bald spot in the middle, uneven and evidently where they ripped out bundles of it. Ryan pressed his lips together until his jaw started hurting.

“That bad, huh?” Jeremy joked weakly. His hand settled over his hair, as if trying to hide it. “Guess I should shave it all off, wait for it to regrow. Hope I can pull off bald.”

“You can pull off anything,” Ryan hurried to reassure him, and he didn’t miss the flicker of surprise in Jeremy’s eyes as he glanced at him furtively. A pang hit his chest, and he smiled ruefully. “You’re fucking handsome, Jeremy, no matter what weird colour you dyed your hair every other week. I’m sure bald will look good on you, too.” A pause, and then he added slyly, “Besides, you’ve got that stupid cowboy hat. Not like anyone can see your hair, is it?”

“Guess so,” Jeremy agreed weakly, cheeks faintly flushed. Ryan cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortably aware that he was still holding one of Jeremy’s hands.

Too aware of the last words they exchanged before… all of this.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, and then bit his lip. Jeremy looked up at him, curious and a little confused. “I- I was an idiot. Before. When we- when you-”

I nearly lost you.

The words got stuck in his throat, but Jeremy seemed to catch onto what he was saying.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to-”

“No, I do. I really think I do.” Ryan carefully reached up to cup Jeremy’s face, tilting it up towards him. “Jeremy. I- I’m a fool. I thought if I didn’t- didn’t say anything or, or, confirm it, then it wouldn’t hurt as much. But it does and- I, I can’t-”

I can’t lose you.

“Ryan,” Jeremy whispered, and Ryan leaned in to kiss him, stopping abruptly at the sight of blood all over Jeremy’s face. Instead, he turned the movement up, to brush a kiss to his temple-

Only for his lips to meet leather.

Jeremy snorted.

“You’re wearing the mask, asshole.”

Ryan blinked and then groaned. “I’m a moron.”

“We’ve covered that, yes,” Jeremy agreed, lips quirking upward. Then he grimaced in pain. Ryan’s smile faltered, and he traced carefully along the edges of the bruising.

“This is my fault,” he said, thumb coming to rest at the corner of Jeremy’s mouth. His eyes flickered up to Jeremy’s, before avoiding his gaze. “If I hadn’t kicked you out because I was being stupid-”

“-they would have grabbed me some other time,” Jeremy finished for him. He dropped the hand from his hair and poked Ryan’s shoulder. “Stop it. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Ryan’s chest tightened, and he looked up to meet Jeremy’s brown eyes.

“But I do,” he objected quietly. His hand dropped away from Jeremy’s face to dangle awkwardly at his side. “I hurt you. I hurt you because I was scared of getting hurt, and I did it on purpose. I was an ass towards you, and if I could make it up to you, even just a little-”

“What’s done is done,” Jeremy said, but his voice wavered and he looked away. “I get it. You’re not ready for a relationship or whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does,” Ryan retorted urgently, desperately. “It does because I fucking love you, too, and I should just have said it instead of ruining everything-”

“Wait,” Jeremy interrupted him. Ryan’s mouth snapped shut, and he glanced at Jeremy, who looked dazed. “What.”

“I’m an idiot,” Ryan repeated, deflating.

“Not that,” Jeremy said, starting to sound a little hysterical. “The, the other thing.”

“I should have said something?”

“No, between that, you asshole.” Jeremy was glaring at him now, slapping lightly at his shoulder. Ryan mustered a smile, but couldn’t quite meet his gaze.

“I lo-”

“Hey guys,” Jack called out, interrupting their little moment. “Just me, don’t shoot! Bringing the medkit up now.”

Ryan glanced up to see the red-head poke her head through the attic door. Panic seized him, like it had that morning, like this was vital, important. That this was it, now or never, and he was about to ruin it again-

“I love you,” he blurted out, turning to look back at Jeremy. Jack paused, one knee on the floor as she climbed up.

“I’m flattered and all,” she drawled, her eyes flickering between the two of them. “But I’m afraid I’ll just break your heart.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Jeremy’s eyes were glittering mischievously. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, visibly holding back his chuckles. “I think you two would make a cute pair.”

“Thank you, Lil J,” Jack accepted gracefully as she set the first aid kit down next to Ryan. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then. Ryan, make sure he’s all wrapped up and decent so we can leave in five.”

“I’m never decent!” Jeremy called out after her, while Ryan pulled off his mask and hid his face in his hands.

“Try for presentable!” Jack called back, whistling as she climbed back down the stairs.

“I take it back,” Ryan muttered, his cheeks feeling incredibly hot. “I hate you.”

“Aww, buddy,” Jeremy cooed, but there was laughter in his voice. “Love you, too.”

Something loosened in Ryan’s chest, and he dropped his hands to smile fondly down at Jeremy.

“I know.” He grabbed an antiseptic wipe from the kit, cleaning up Jeremy’s nose and mouth. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned in and pecked his lips. Jeremy gave him a surprised look, and Ryan leaned back and cleared his throat. “But seriously. I understand if you’re not interested in picking this back up-”

“I am,” Jeremy assured him hastily. “Trust me, I am.”

“Okay.” Ryan gave him a small smile, thumb brushing over Jeremy’s lips. “Okay, good.”

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[jeremichal-archive]

good god "you watched me break down" and micheoff.

what doesn’t kill you; kills your friends

*shows up three months late with a cookie and absolute heartbreak* i’m so sorry this took me so long, BUT, it’s finally done. perfect timing too because this will be the start to my month of arguments (i know i’ve already missed one but shh) i don’t know how many days i’ll get through, but we’ll find out! but anyway, i hope you enjoy & definitely don’t hesitate to let me know what you think!

Warnings: Major Character Death, Swearing & DepressionPairings: Micheoff, Implied Jeremwood

Geoff is waiting for him.

He hasn’t quite seen Michael yet, which is a blessing in itself, but Michael can definitely see him. He’s no more than a body pressed against the cold, run-down brick wall at the mouth of the alley, fingers fidgeting with something hidden in his pocket. And sure, maybe he’s nothing more than a darkened silhouette, but Michael’s well versed in the curves of Geoff Ramsey’s body. He’s spent enough of his time with him in the dark to know for sure that it’s him.

But fucking hell, Michael really wishes it wasn’t.

He feels like he’s frozen solid, stuck in place from his spot across the street, his hip resting against a strangers Entity. It’s not Jack’s; the first thing he did was check to make sure. Rather, it’s an obnoxious orange colour and he can’t help the tinge of disappointment in his heart for its lack of ‘complementing’ purple. Never in his life did he think he’d miss that horrendous mishmash of colours, but… here he fucking is.

That’s what you get with a city like Los Santos, he guesses.

And that’s what he gets for trusting Ramsey.

He makes no move to cross the street, quite content to just hover in the shadows. Michael’s glad for the small moment of anonymity because honestly, he needs to prepare himself. The last time he saw Geoff, there was a newly carved hole right in the centre of his chest and no one around to plaster hello kitty bandaids on it or to convince him to just down a couple of shots of Jäger and pass out on the couch. So he had to make do alone, while all the while Geoff pretended that he didn’t exist.

It’s no big deal though. Michael’s over it.

Or, at least he was, up until two days ago when Geoff so happened to call him, babbling about ‘one last job’ through the speaker of his phone. So he’s here now, partly because he’s an idiot and partly because he’s a stubborn fucking bastard. There’s no way he’s letting Geoff get off easy this time. He doesn’t have to be a psychic to know that this is Geoff’s idea of a lame attempt to fix things between them, but the old bastard is an idiot if he thinks that a simple apology is going to change things. If he’s lucky enough, Michael just might not punch him before leaving, but he’s not making any promises.

He counts down from five in his head before he ends up sighing, pushing himself off of the car and forwards towards Geoff. Even though he keeps his footsteps light, Geoff still notices him approaching anyway. The crunch of an old candy wrapper under the heel of his boot giving him away. He watches the gent snap to attention, the mark of an old soldier, and feels anger claw up his throat. He swallows it down, of course, desperate to hold onto that emotionless facade of his and instead tips his chin up slightly, decidedly meeting Geoff’s gaze head-on.

“You wanted to see me?” he asks, keeping his tone cold and flat.

He’s trying his best to be perfectly detached from the moment, but all it does is make Geoff frown. He steps away from the wall, a small hesitant step, and crosses further into the light where Michael can see him. And for the first time in three weeks, Michael catches sight of someone he once called his lover.

Part of him wishes he could say it’s the same old Geoff standing in front of him, but now, Michael can see how hard he’s taken things.

The bags under his eyes; the added tinge of grey to his hair. The way he fidgets with the ends of his sleeves as Michael watches him. He’s more of a shell than an actual man and Michael would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt him to see him like this.

But then he remembers why, and the anger melts away all the sympathy he has for him. So just out of spite, Michael slips both of Gavin’s and Jeremy’s necklaces out from underneath his shirt. He doesn’t take as much satisfaction from the way Geoff blanches at the sight that he wishes he could though. Any other time he’d feel cruel, but he hasn’t really been feeling much of anything lately. All of his emotions were sucked out of him in that hotel room, and to be honest, he hasn’t been really trying to get them back.

Well, all of them except anger.

Geoff moves again, taking a step towards Michael and he doesn’t even need to think about it before he’s taking his own step back. Something flickers in Geoff’s gaze, maybe regret, maybe disappointment, but it’s too fast for Michael to catch. The lad holds his ground though and inevitably, Geoff gives in, letting out a soft sigh before stepping back again. Michael doesn’t know if he expects him to even things out again, but even if he does, Michael doesn’t care. Instead, he remains as still as a statue in the middle of the alley, staring down at the concrete beneath his feet.

“You’ve been avoiding my calls, babe,” Geoff finally whispers and Michael knows they both feel the wave of wrongness that washes over them at the pet name. He clenches his jaw, somehow managing not to clench his fist and Geoff looks away, glancing back over his shoulder. Of course, he doesn’t really need to tell Geoff not to call him that anymore, but he still does it anyway.

“I’m not your babe, Ramsey,” he hisses and Geoff just lets out a broken wheeze.

It takes a moment, but he nods his head, eyes slowly drift back to the necklaces sitting around Michael’s neck and Michael has to stop himself from deliberately slipping them back under his shirt. The unexpected urge to yell at Geoff claws it’s way up his throat and he tries to swallow it down. He wants to scream, either at Geoff or at anyone who will listen, that these necklaces are his and he doesn’t deserve to even look at them.

They’re not Ryan’s, no matter how much he tried to fight Michael for Jeremy’s cross, they’re not Jack’s and they’re definitely not fucking Geoff’s.

“I was hoping we could talk first,” he pleads, changing his stance and holding his hands out by his sides, “about us before we get to the business side of things.”

Michael lets out a humourless laugh. He has to give it to him, Geoff’s a stubborn bastard just like he is, and it’s part of the reason he fell for him so hard once upon a time. They were made for each other, in a way, two unstoppable forces colliding until the universe inevitably bent to their will. Michael knows how this is going to go down. He knows Geoff’s not going to give up until he gets what he wants, and it goes against every fibre of his being, but this time he’s not going to let that happen.

He knows how, but it’s like cutting out a part of himself and Michael knows it’s going to hurt like hell. He grabs for the two necklaces hanging around his neck and twists them between his fingers, trying to ignore the way his stomach rolls.

“No, Geoff,” he bites back, trying and failing to keep his voice steady.

Geoff opens his mouth, barely managing to splutter out, “Michael- Michael, please,” before Michael shuts him down.

He wishes he could take some sort of sick satisfaction from Geoff’s pain, but he can’t. It doesn’t matter how much he tries, he can’t quite give himself over to the precipice and actually hate Geoff. There’s too much history between them that stop him.

“I’m not doing this with you anymore,” he explains, shaking his head. His face feels hot against the cool, night air and he presses a hand to his forehead. He wonders if he’s getting sick, or if it’s just the destroyed look on Geoff’s face getting to him. “No- I can’t. I want you to fucking know that this the last time you will ever fucking see me again. I’m not coming back, I’m not answering your calls. This is it, you old fuck, we’re done,” he spits.

Geoff clenches his jaw, and while he sways lightly on his feet, he somehow manages to remain standing. “How- how can I fix this, Michael,” he begs. His eyes dart around the alleyway, but they always end up settling back on him, “How can I fix us?”

Michael huffs a humourless laugh. He shakes his head slowly, letting out an exasperated huff before cracking his knuckles. The sound bounces around the alleyway, temporarily filling the silence, but not doing much to make things less tense. “You can’t,” he replies, dropping his gaze to the floor, “there’s no coming back from this one, Geoff.”

“We could try again,” he whispers, broken and so quiet that Michael almost misses it. Almost. He flinches, jerking backwards as if Geoff had chosen to actually hit him instead. There’s a flicker of disbelief in Geoff’s gaze when he meets it, and while Michael knows that Geoff would never actually physically hurt him, his words do more than enough damage to make up for it.

“Try again?” he asks, incredulous, “I’d rather die than ever let you touch me again, Ramsey,” he spits, feeling the hole inside him open up again at his words. Again, his hand moves to grab the necklaces around his neck, like they’re the only thing keeping him stable, afloat. Gavin’s heavy gold chain and Jeremy’s cross. It feels weird to have them out in the open for so long since usually they’re hidden. Tucked underneath his shirt, safe and secure where no-one could ever think to grab for them.

They almost feel like they’re strangling him, punishing him for being alive still.

“Don’t- don’t say things like that,” Geoff stammers and while outwardly he scoffs, inside he feels exhausted. He’s doing his best to keep the act up, but the anger is just burning him out and he’s tired. He wants to go home. He wants to go back in time. Instead, he clenches his jaw and levels Geoff with a glare.

“Why not?” he spits, “Because it makes you feel like shit? Because it tells you just how much I despise you? This-” he gestures to the space in between them, both physically and emotionally, “is because of you. You ruined everything-”

“It was an accident, Michael!” he tries, but Michael doesn’t pause.

“It wasn’t an accident. You made a decision and it got Jeremy and Gavin fucking killed.” He sucks in a desperate breath. His head spins but he fights through it. “It’s your fucking fault, and it doesn’t matter how many times you apologize, or try to pretend that you’ve changed, I’m always going to remember how you didn’t even care.”

“I did care, Michael,” he chokes and his voice is rough, “I do care”. There are tears forming in his eyes, Michael can see them refusing to fall, and he knows for sure he’s not going to stick around that much longer.

Something inside him snaps at the idea of Geoff crying. He doesn’t get to cry, he doesn’t get to fucking cry. It builds and it builds inside of him until he slams his fist against the brick wall beside them, letting out a frustrated scream. “You don’t!” he yells, his shout echoing down the alley, “you fucking- you watched me break down and you did nothing! You did absolutely fucking nothing,” he hisses.

“My best friends died, and you barely flinched, Geoff! You didn’t cry, you didn’t mourn, you acted as if they were low-level hires and ignored everything. You ignored me, you ignored everyone,” his voice cracks, and Michael has to clench his teeth together to muffle the sob in his throat, “and so that’s why Jack left. That’s why Ryan will kill you if he ever sees you again. You come back here begging for me to forgive you, well guess what, I don’t. And I never fucking will.”

He lets his gaze drop to the floor, searching for something that the dirty alleyway will never be able to give him. The adrenaline slowly fades from his body and all it leaves behind is a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I fucking wish it was me instead. I wish I had fucking died instead of them,” he mumbles, acid dripping from his tone. He can feel Geoff’s heavy gaze on him, but he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Michael doesn’t know how he’d react if Geoff tried to argue with him. He very well might just punch him. “But I didn’t, instead I get to live in this shithole of a city with you, knowing full well that if I had just ignored your orders and had gone to them instead, then maybe they’d still be here.”

He leans an elbow against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut.

He can remember that goddamn day in perfect detail, and he hates the way it’s been burned into his memory. He remembers the grin on Jeremy’s face that morning, the way he’d chased Gavin around the kitchen table while Ryan cooked their pancakes. He remembers Geoff going through the plans afterwards, tattooed fingers dragging over the list of narcotics being traded that afternoon.

He remembers kissing Geoff once for good luck before they left that morning.

“I could have forgiven you,” he whispers, sucking in a few desperate breaths to steady his breathing, “I could have forgiven you, everyone could have, but you were so determined to ruin everything else that I just can’t- I can’t do this with you anymore Geoff. I can’t keep getting your calls, I can’t keep seeing your car in front of my apartment building. So this is it, I’m calling it quits.”

“Michael, please,” he tries, grabbing a hold of his right arm and in an instant, Michael back-hands him, the sound echoing through the alleyway. They both stand there for a moment, frozen still as the back of his hand stings like it’s been set on fire. Geoff opens his mouth, but when nothing but a broken sob comes out, Michael comes back to himself, straightening himself out and stepping backwards.

“If you still love me as much as you claim you do-” he hisses and Geoff quickly nods.

“I do. I do-”

“Then you’ll leave me the fuck alone,” he finishes and as he spins on his heel, his hand clenches into a fist by his side, waiting for Geoff to push his luck and try again.

He doesn’t, but Michael would have happily took the chance to knock him out.

[ao3feed-roosterteeth]

Spies and Assassins

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2n4o31z

by MadhouseVagabond

I was commissioned by Lightningflourish to write this fic based off the end bonus scene in the ELR finale! As a reference I used this pic: http://ift.tt/2mzwPH6

WARNING!! Contains spoilers for ELR! If you have not seen the end or the series and wish to then DO NOT read this until you do!

Words: 805, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 9 of AH Oneshots

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Jeremy Dooley, Lindsay JONES, Ryan Haywood (mentioned), Josh Flanagan (mentioned), Michael Jones (mentioned), Gavin Free (mentioned), Hideo Kojima - Character

Relationships: Gavin Free/Michael Jones, Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood (implied)

Additional Tags: Eleven Little Roosters - Freeform, end credits scene, Evil Laughter, Mavin the Ultimate Ship, Spies, Assassins, Twelve Little Roosters, Plotting, Mavin, implied Jeremwood, Jeremy and Lindsay share the same body!, Rooster Teeth - Freeform, the Germans, elr, ELR Aftermath

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2n4o31z

[ao3feed-mavin]

Day 14: Tear-Stained

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2IYeZYH

by MadhouseVagabond

Regret is hard to get rid of...

Words: 539, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 14 of Whump-tober 2019

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Ryan Haywood, Jeremy Dooley, Ray Narvaez Jr. (mentioned)

Relationships: Battle Buddies - Relationship, Raywood (implied), Jeremwood (implied)

Additional Tags: whumptober 2019, day no. 14, Tear-stained, Angst, coping with loss, Dealing With Loss, Feelings of Regret, graveyard confessions, jeremy and Ryan aren’t “together” per se, but it’s implied

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2IYeZYH

[ao3feed-mavin]

Day 12: “Don’t Move”

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2J36TOq

by MadhouseVagabond

Moving will only make things worse...

Words: 1441, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 12 of Whump-tober 2019

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Ryan Haywood, Jeremy Dooley, Geoff Ramsey

Relationships: Battle Buddies - Relationship, Jeremwood (implied)

Additional Tags: battle buddies, hinted Jeremwood, Betrayal, FAHC, Fake AH Crew, whumptober2019, day no. 12, ”Don’t move”

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2J36TOq

[ao3feed-mavin]

Day 6: Dragged Away

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/35cPBrJ

by MadhouseVagabond

Words: 1336, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 6 of Whump-tober 2019

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Characters: Jeremy Dooley, Ryan Haywood, Geoff Ramsey (mentioned), Gavin Free (mentioned), Jack Pattillo (mentioned), Michael Jones (mentioned), Herobrine

Relationships: Battle Buddies - Relationship

Additional Tags: minecraft au, Mad King, Whumptober, Angst, They’re all dead, whumptober2019, day no. 6, Dragged away, battle buddies, implied Jeremwood, Kidnapping

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/35cPBrJ

[ao3feed-mavin]

Can't Hurt You Anymore

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2vUKEmM

by despattillo

from this prompt on tumblr: "Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore."

or, Jeremy finds Ryan on the bathroom floor

Words: 1006, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Ficlets

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Jeremy Dooley, Ryan Haywood

Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood, Jeremwood - Relationship

Additional Tags: Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Torture, Blood, nothing Happens in the fic but its implied, also this isnt especially indicative of jeremwood but uh, Its implied, battle buddies, Comfort

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2vUKEmM

[ao3feed-mavin]

Pictures Last

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2E1BoBM

by grayscalee

Jeremy didnt know how right he was when commenting that a photo would last Ryan longer than staring at him.

Based on this prompt i talked about, since there seemed to be interest!

Words: 1584, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Achievement Hunter

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Jeremy Dooley, Ryan Haywood, Geoff Ramsey (mentioned), Jack Pattillo (mentioned), Michael Jones (mentioned), Gavin Free (mentioned)

Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood, Jeremy Dooley & Ryan Haywood

Additional Tags: Fake AH Crew, Fluff and Angst, But mostly angst, Grief/Mourning, Prompt Fic, get buckled in lol, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Plot Twists, Pining, you dont have to treat it like jeremwood if you somehow can read it otherwise lol, NOT (AND I CANNOT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGH) ABOUT REAL LIVE PEOPLE, youll meet my blade if you try to treat this like a fanfic about the actual real live people

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2E1BoBM

[ao3feed-mavin]

Coming Home

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2PZq2kQ

by MadhouseVagabond

It’s been seven years since Ryan betrayed the Crew. Seven years since he left Los Santos and his Crime life behind. Now he’s back and searching for redemption, but will he find it?

Words: 2892, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Ryan Haywood, Jeremy Dooley, the others are mentioned

Relationships: Ryan Haywood & Jeremy Dooley, Ryan Haywood/Jeremy Dooley (implied)

Additional Tags: FAHC, Fake AH Crew, Betrayal, Angst, implied thoughts of suicide, Crying, dealing with anger, Some Fluff, implied Jeremwood, battle buddies

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2PZq2kQ