#oc: captain flare

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Yeeeeeeess

Nav: 👗🌼💌🦸‍♀️🥘🍁

And for a little treat:

Clone Boys: 👀

I have asked so much but I need to knooowwww

Take your time, Ily 🌙🔮

ahhh yessss thank you so much, Hex, for asking all of these wonderful questions. answers below the cut because this got away from me 😂😅

Nav:

👗 Describe their style

when they worked on Coruscant before joining the GAR, they 100% rocked the thrifted light academia aesthetic, but it never fully fit their personality.

on the run from the Empire, and just in everyday life, they are much more prone to utilitarian, functional garments in neutral tones. sleeveless tunic belted over utility pants, with steel-toed boots and their trusty backpack. they steal one of Hunter's old bandanas and tie it around their bicep; Hunter loves it. and of course once they settle on Pabu, they start wearing more tank tops and shorts, soft-bottom shoes, a shark-tooth necklace that Omega crafts.

used to have long hair, but cut it really short when they joined the GAR and just never grew it out again.

they also have a single tattoo, a complementary pair to one that Arien had, on their ribs: a deadly cactus flower native to Iridonia. (Arien's was a sketch of Umate, the mountain peak on Coruscant.)

🌼 Assign them an aesthetic

alright take all of the above and now consider: space grunge

💌 How would they react to a love letter?

sorry my first thought here is the fact that Hunter would write said love letter and now I've made myself squee

anyways. on topic. I think the circumstance would be something like, Hunter writes a letter for Nav and leaves it for them to find somewhere, so it's a surprise. like, at the bottom of their pack (because we all know how often Nav cleans that out... 👀). & then reading it they'd need to sit in case they swoon, the paper held in one hand while the other is clasped over their mouth to hide their smile. definitely blushes. depending on how sappy Hunter got while writing, Nav may or may not tear up.

& then immediately tackle Hunter into a giant hug and smother him with kisses.

🦸‍♀️ What would they dress as for Halloween?

Nav would totally talk Hunter into couples' costumes--and of course that means Omega's costume is also themed, which probably means everyone else's as well. the squad as bowling pins and Omega as a bowling ball?

but for one year, Hunter and Nav make sure that their costumes match each other's and only each other's. Hunter as a werewolf and Nav as a werewolf hunter 👀

🥘 Favorite food?

this depends. if we're talking like, most nostalgic, then it's definitely the beef stew and crusty bread that the matron of the orphanage made on a regular basis. a whole big vat of the stew and the huge ovens made the entire building always smell so good.

but now as an adult, their favorite is the salad that Shep taught them to make on Pabu. starfruit and berries, nuts, crumbly cheese, and a decadent oil-based dressing. filling, sweet, and savory all in one.

that, or Hunter's meat pies. Hunter totally learns that he loves to cook once they all settle down on Pabu.

🍁 Their favorite season and why?

alright hc time: Coruscant doesn't have seasons, & Pabu basically has 2: hot and hotter. Iridonia is probably the same, though it gets chilly at night. therefore, Rintonne is the one planet that Nav has been to relatively frequently enough to experience four seasons. their favorite is by far autumn, with spring coming in second. there's something about transitory periods, life in flux, that just Hits Different for Nav. spring is in second place because allergies lmao.

Clone boys:

👀 How do they look like? Give an overall description of them

ohohoho strap in, here we go

387th Battalion, 13th Sector Army

Commander Creed. he presents a very stern, disciplined facade that intimidates shinies and civvies alike, but in reality he's very soft and compassionate. it's what makes him such a strong leader. he's unafraid to voice his opinion when he believes his Jedi General is making a foolish or wrong move, but is humble enough to admit when he's wrong. well-trimmed beard and mustache, undercut with a mop of dark curls. there's a scar from an errant blaster bolt during commando training, that streaks down the left side of his face. he has a tattoo under his left pec that reads 'for the people' in blocky Basic letting--that is his creed. he has a second tattoo on his right hip of his battalion's mascot (pls don't ask me what this is, idk yet).

Captain Static, Shatter Company. earned his name because when he was a cadet, he always pretended to talk on the radios with sound effects (*cksh* come in, command, *cksh*). he's a little bit naive, but very loyal and values intelligence. he often volunteers his company for recon missions, having trained them specially to communicate effectively. he's clean-shaven, with a stud nose piercing and regulation haircut.

Captain Flare, Phoenix Company. loves, loves, loves flare guns and will pout (mostly in jest these days) if he doesn't get the chance to pop one off at least once during a campaign. he's loud and unapologetic, a little cocky, but he does genuinely mean well and respects the hell out of anyone who can outwit his twin, Seg. with a permanent five o'clock shadow, brilliant white teeth, and that one perfect curl that always rests so nicely on his forehead, he's hot and he kriffin' knows it.

Captain Seg, Flare's twin, commanding officer of Angel Company. Seg is a little bit more withdrawn and quiet than Flare, but no less quick-witted--and quick-tempered. he often waits for an opening in his enemy's forces rather than making an opening himself (he leaves that to Shatter & Phoenix Companies). this is both in terms of battle tactics and verbal sparring. often known for silently observing conversations or debates, and drops one-line zingers that leave the entire table slack-jawed and/or in uproarious laughter. he's the most "reg" looking of the captains, but don't let that fool you.

Captain Drifter, of Hollow Company. Drifter is an old grumpy man at heart, rather pessimistic, but can be charming and suave when the occasion arises. something of a social chameleon, often chosen for diplomatic missions alongside the General. he's sarcastic but genuine, a balance he learned early on how to maintain, and it's gotten him into trouble as much as out of it. he has ear piercings, a septum ring, and a huge geometric tattoo sleeve on his right leg; and sometimes lets his hair grow out to about shoulder length.

Bonus boys! Hotshot and Screwball, ARC troopers, who featured briefly in Second Chances. Hotshot has a buzzcut and goatee, vitiligo, a rough hand-drawn star tattoo beneath his left eye, and a scar across the bridge of his nose. Screwball has long hair that he keeps tied back in a low bun, and a scar along the right side of his face. both Hotshot and Screwball are pranksters (and don't get me started on when they have shore leave with Screwball's twin, Misfit), but very, very good at their jobs. they specialize in destabilizing the enemy from behind enemy lines, often using their chaotic impulses to their advantage.

anyways thanks again so much, Hex, for letting me ramble about my blorbos 💖💖

[emissaryofearthbreadofficial]

Part 2, everyone! We finished all these ahead of time so we could release daily and keep no one waiting.

When Light Cream Cookie's excursion to trade goods for House Scone takes a dramatic turn, she finds herself wrapped up in an inescapable situation and doomed to remain the prisoner of a dangerous beast. But, when she returns home briefly to say her goodbyes, will it really be her who returns to the ruins of the Vanilla Kingdom?

Moonflower Gargoyle & White Beast Sprites by @snowleopardcrk

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[makeartnotfriends23]

🧩🛝 Did you ever play Pooka Playground? The site was all the rage in the early 2010s with kids flocking to the site in droves to play fun mini games and learn new things. However one day it just disappeared with no one knowing why. 🎪🧩

Welcome to Pooka Playground a series I’m planning on making in the future. It’s going to be a kind of arg so kind of exciting I guess

[alexa-fika]

Caged Bird ( Shanks x winged!reader)

Made this purely thinking of my senpai @hannahbarberra162 . Listen I don't know why I was aching to do a negative style outcome fic but I needed it and I made it though if only a cheaply made replica. Really like dark fics like these but man am I bad at writing them which is why i'm so thankful for authors like hannah ;p craziest part of this that this thought came to me when I was reading a wholesome cat!reader piece and I was ong yes! Dark kidnapping no comfort! Just as wholesome : D

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

Kidd let out a small grunt as a heavyweight made its home on his shoulder, powerful talons digging into the small crevices of his metal arm. The sound of the wind being disturbed was lost to the loud crashing of the waves around them.

"What do you have?"

"My, My, is that any way to greet someone who has spent the last week on a flight trying to find information for you?" A voice drawled next to him as the feeling of feathers scratching his face hit him as the massive bird began nuzzling into him

"Dokucha," he growled.

"I spotted him around a hundred miles south; if you head in their direction now, you should be able to catch up to him not long after he reaches Elbaf."

"Good," Kidd called as a dangerous grin grew on his face. With a single wave of his finger, the Victoria Punk changed course, with the crew behind him scrambling to prepare the vessel for the war that was surely to befall them as they marched forward.

"You did well," he praised, as his flesh arm extended towards the bird, caressing its soft plumage, much to the latter's utter enjoyment.

"I will be sure to reward you later. Now, won't you be good and find the size of their fleet?"

"Of course, Master," she purred, and with a single motion of her wings, she took flight once again, powerful wings propelling her upwards with little to no effect on the man below her.

And so they had agreed; however, that was not what happened, as when she made her way to the rendezvous points, instead of finding the punk Captain laughing maniacally aboard the Victoria Punk, all she could see was fire and debris around what she guessed used to be the Victoria Punk. Now she found herself flying on top of the vessel, frantically searching for not only the red-haired Captain but any of her allies, spotting what she hoped was only unconscious bodies; however, the trail of blood that lay beside some of them did not give much truth to this hope and before she could dive further into the wreck a sudden whistling sound invaded her ears followed by a straining sensation around her wings causing her to lose control and go down enveloping her world to black.

"Ung," she groaned, her eyes struggling to open to the blinding light in the room. Looking around, her confusion grew as she found herself in an unknown room. As memories flooded in, she jumped out of the bed, her instincts flaring up as a voice reached her.

"You're awake."

Her eyes narrowed as a red-haired captain sat on a nearby chair and attentively stared at her. The problem? It wasn't her red-haired Captain. She seethed at his presence, a hot and angry feeling enveloping , remembering what had occurred. A sharp blade slid down her sleeves right into the palm of her hand.

"Calm down, darling. It is not in your best interest to let your anger get the better of you now."

"MY best interest?" She yelled, dashing towards the man and digging the sharp blade towards him, unsurprised as he took hold of her wrist, easily keeping her at bay

"Why am I here Akagami? Where is my Captain?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, but if I had to guess, I would say he probably is still on Elbaf's coast," he answered calmly.

"As for you, you know that, don't you? It would have been useless to take the pone glyphs without someone who could read them," he said, frowning as she cackled at his words.

"You think I would read them for you? Don't make me laugh. There is only one Captain I will lead to the one piece, and that sure as hell is not you; why would you think I would help you after what you did to my crew?"

"What did I do to your crew?" he called slowly, standing up and towering over the winged girl as his tone darkened at the accusation.

"Your crew got what it asked for when it threatened to take half of my fleet in order to lure me out," he growled as an angry aura began exuding from him, causing the owl to let a slight whine.

She was no stranger to the power of Haki; numerous enemies of the crew had the power of the supreme king by their side, cocky people who believed themselves to be the most powerful only to be weeded out by her Captain's Haki. She believed it to be the ultimate power until now. If Kidd's Haki was overwhelming, then Shanks's was nauseating; it was nothing like she had felt before as the haki itself seemed to have a will of its own, enticing her to give in, weakening her defense and infiltrating her brain, breaking any clear thinking as all that filled her brain was one thing; to submit. Though she tried to resist the command, in the end, she couldn't do anything as her body began giving to his will, pushing her to her knees, still held by the man.

"It will do you good to remember that you don't have the upper hand here. You don't get to make demands. Your only options are to step back and do as you're told."

"Or what? You sunk our ship and annihilated our crew, so what could you possibly do now?" she huffed out, struggling to keep her erratic beating on the track.

"You might not realize It, Owl, but there are many things you have to lose," he called as he realeased her wrist, only for his grip to make a home in the tender part of her wings. His grip tightening as she wrapped her own hands around his, trying to dislodge it with a desperate cry.

"I suggest that you sit still and do as you are told. We need you and your abilities, but that doesn't mean there is a need for all of your limbs," he hissed, throwing her back and turning around, leaving the woman alone in the room.

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

[drenix004]

𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐘━━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 141

❝𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲︙She was an odd one, as was her obsession with daisies. But, that made her unique in the eyes of the herd… she became the treasure of TF 141.

warnings: mention of alcohol, drugs, death, obsession, among others, if you are not comfortable, don't read it !

rating: 18+

pairings: Task Force 141, Köning y Horangi x Oc female.

Summary: the hunt for jewels had begun, so Laswell decides to pass her off as a human and send her to the British military base under the command of a colleague, all this without him knowing her true identity to protect her (sorry, I don't know how to summarize).

¡English is not my first language, so there may be mistakes, don’t hesitate to correct me.!

wattapad -> here

INTRO | CH 1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4

●❯────────────────❮●

A tense silence filled the air as they watched the CIA operative, a colleague of their captain for years, through the screen. The woman had initiated a video call to discuss the new team member, which had made them nervous ever since they found out she was human and not a hybrid or monster.

For Ghost, this posed a problem that would affect the team in upcoming missions. Moreover, she was an outsider, and years of betrayal had made him deeply distrustful and more cautious than ever. Whenever they allied with others, he requested their files and scrutinized them thoroughly before gaining more information.

The matter of coexistence between hybrids, monsters, and humans remained complicated. Despite their high ranks in the military, they still faced looks of disdain, disgust, hatred, and cruel words for not being entirely human. Even though humans were cruel and ruthless, they treated them as the only beasts in their hypocrisy.

Kate sighed for the tenth time in what had been just an hour-long meeting.

"I understand you may have doubts and even rejection toward this new addition," Kate said, staring directly at Ghost through the camera, "but she is necessary this time. She'll be a great addition to the team."

"She’s human," the tallest one interjected, his voice slightly muffled by the balaclava. "She’ll only bring trouble."

"She won’t cause you any problems; you have my word." Laswell locked eyes with Price, the man who had remained silent. He had already discussed things with the woman privately and was now letting his pack weigh in. "She’s not just any human. She’ll help you, and she might even teach you a few things."

"Like what?" asked the Scot.

That was the cue for Price to step in, setting an open folder on the table. The five men moved closer to take a look. Ghost was the first to reach it, despite being farther from the table.

"She’s given permission for us to see the first two pages of her file." Price’s voice was calm, as always. "She’ll be supporting us in the medical field." He handed one page to Ghost while the other went to the only dark-skinned member of the group. "She’s a combat medic, specializing in emergency medical-surgical care."

"Aeris Williams, no photo," Soap mentioned, standing next to Ghost. The others crowded around to see the first page.

"It’s for her safety," Laswell replied, "and she’s worked for several private military contractors." Through the camera, they could see the woman drumming her fingers on the table. Price noticed she was nervous.

"She’s worked with the competition, Laswell," Gaz pointed out upon seeing KorTac’s name. "What assurance do we have that she won’t leak information about us?"

"She’s a professional, and as her file shows, she’s worked with more than just that contractor. If she’d leaked information, she would’ve been blacklisted and imprisoned for breaching contractual terms by now," the woman defended her. "She’s highly qualified to join the team."

"It also says she worked with the ghosts. That’s impossible." Ghost tossed the page back onto the table. Price pulled out a cigar from his pocket, lighting it with fire that flared from deep in his throat. The attitude he was most concerned about was Simon’s.

"It’s true," the captain answered on behalf of Laswell, "and not just as a medic, but also as a soldier. She’s participated in counter-terrorist operations, rescue missions, infiltration, and reconnaissance; she’s highly experienced on the battlefield."

"She’s a veteran," Laswell added. "And as hard as it may be to believe, she’s even more experienced than Price." The men looked at their captain, who nodded as he took another drag from his cigar. "You could learn a thing or two from her, if you’re willing. And... there’s something about her that you might like." Price smiled, knowing what was coming.

"What’s that?" Gaz placed the other page back on the table, his black wings stretching slightly behind his back.

"She worked with the Shadows under Graves’ command." The room, except for Price and Kate, erupted in growls at the mention of the man they considered scum.

"She worked with that bastard? How could that please us?" Alejandro’s thick Mexican accent came through as he scowled at the mention of the man. Of them all, and especially the two Mexicans, Alejandro harbored the most resentment toward Phillip Graves. After all, the man had taken his base and his men during their time in Las Almas several years ago.

"That’s not the best part." Price approached the table with the cigar in his mouth, slipping the pages back into the folder. "There’s a very good reason why there’s no information in her file about working with the Shadows."

Soap raised an eyebrow, as did Alejandro. The men watched as a smile formed on their captain’s face and on the woman’s face through the screen.

"The reason is, she almost beat Graves to death with her bare fists." Surprise quickly spread across the faces of the group. Alejandro was the first to laugh, wearing his typical smile as his shoulders shook slightly from the laughter.

He was followed by Rodolfo, who chuckled lightly.

Gaz had his head tilted slightly, a small smile on his lips. Soap mirrored the expression, while Ghost remained silent.

"What was her excuse?" Rodolfo asked with curiosity after he stopped laughing.

Kate shrugged slightly before replying.

"She simply said he was an idiot."

"That’s a solid argument," Gaz commented.

"I’m already starting to like her," Soap said, flicking his tail.

"So, the lady almost killed him," Alejandro murmured beside Rodolfo. "Guess we should give her a chance, then."

Ghost looked at his pack before sighing.

"I’ll keep an eye on her."

"I appreciate your willingness," Kate clasped her hands on the desk. "Now, I’ll give you some recommendations to keep in mind for your safety."

●❯────────────────❮●

"We'll arrive in five minutes, Doc," the pilot announced over the communicators. "It was a pleasure flying with you."

She smiled as she took off her tactical helmet, just like Kamli and her other companion.

"Likewise, Jack. But this is more of a see you later than a goodbye," she replied before cutting off communication again. "Do you think the captain will be offended for not arriving yesterday?" She looked at the tallest of the three.

Kamli took off his helmet like she did, letting out a sigh.

"I don't think so. He knows beforehand that sometimes things happen unexpectedly. Besides, Laswell informed him we would be delayed." His piercing eyes landed on her. "Don't worry about the minor details. There are other things to be concerned about."

"Kamli is right," interjected the other accompanying them, a hybrid of Arctic hare; he was her assistant. "You should save your energy for the problems that exist at that base on a medical level; the anomalies in those records are troubling, boss."

She sighed as she saw the enormous base, spotting several people waiting in the landing area.

"Alright, let's do this."

The helicopter began its descent while the three prepared themselves. Kamli adjusted his gloves, she pulled her black Buff up to her nose, and her assistant grabbed the straps of one of the four military deployment bags they had brought, excluding the huge 25-kilogram first aid kit.

They felt evaluative gazes on them, especially on her and Kamli due to their height. They unbuckled their seatbelts and descended slightly hunched over as a precaution while the blades continued spinning powerfully.

She moved to the front and signaled to Jack to take off again.

Then she turned and made eye contact with the man in the hat and beard, who smiled politely at her. Kate had mentioned his appearance before they left.

"You must be Captain Price, right?" She approached the man and shook his hand. The scaly tail swayed slowly, but she held back her questions. "Aeris Williams," she introduced herself, "but I prefer to be called Harper."

Kamli and her assistant also approached, positioning themselves to her left and right.

Price nodded.

"Captain John Price." The man looked at her before addressing the two companions behind her. "Laswell mentioned that only two of you were coming."

From his tone, Aeris understood she needed to clarify things. Price was still an alpha, and as such, he liked to know who was coming in and out of his base. The arrival of another male without prior notice could be seen as an invasion of his territory.

Kamli was also an alpha, which could trigger an internal struggle to prove who had power over whom if they didn't communicate properly.

"I apologize for the last-minute surprise, Captain. We come from a small mission," she responded calmly. "The big guy next to me is Kamli Sharma, my partner in operations and missions." Kamli nodded at those present, looking at them neutrally with no signs of confrontation. "And he is Jim Parker, my right hand."

Parker also nodded; the man had noticed the gazes on his non-human limbs and ears but ignored them, as they merely indicated curiosity.

"No problem," Price stepped aside, revealing four members of his pack. "This is Gaz." The dark-skinned man stepped forward and shook her hand while slightly stretching his black wings; from the type and color of his wings, she deduced he was a hybrid of raven or harpy.

"Soap," the lighter-eyed one introduced himself with a smile; his accent revealed he was Scottish. His enthusiastic eyes and tail wagging behind him made it clear he was a wolf. "Two of us are missing who couldn't come; they'll show up later." He nodded towards the man in the skull-patterned balaclava. "And he is Ghost."

The one in the mask didn’t respond; his gaze was fixed on Kamli. The height difference between the two was evident, with Kamli being the taller at two meters.

Unlike the others, Ghost showed no indication of what kind of hybrid or monster he was.

"Kamli." His warning tone was enough to make the man stop staring him straight in the eyes.

The others had noticed the small confrontation between the two hybrids, so Price intervened.

"I'll give you a brief tour if you're not too tired." Aeris smiled through her buff.

"We're fine, Captain." She grabbed the first aid kit and slung it on her back before taking one of the bags, while Kamli grabbed the two remaining ones. "We can hold out a bit longer."

"Alright." Price turned halfway and began the tour, allowing Aeris to stay at his side and not behind him. That was a good sign; it meant he recognized her as an equal. "This base is larger than the others since we have more resources; I can give you a map while you get accustomed."

The base was undoubtedly big, just as Price had said, and the map would be useful for orientation in the first few days. Given her role as a combat medic, Aeris had certain privileges, such as the right to a room with its own bathroom, away from the dormitories for greater privacy, which she appreciated. She was also assigned an office at Kate's request for the tedious paperwork related to the anomalies in the medical processes of the base.

It was impressive that, despite being completely adapted for hybrids and monsters, there were more humans.

As they walked through the hallways and different recreation rooms, Aeris noticed small packs formed, all being cautious as they passed. She even observed some injured individuals with poorly placed bandages, suggesting that medical care for the non-humans was, at best, lacking in certain aspects.

She had a lot of work to do, but at least she wouldn't be bored.

However, she was sure she would face resistance from the medical staff if more of her suspicions turned out to be true, much to her dismay.

They returned to their room under the curious gaze of those present at seeing the three staying in the same space. Their excuse was that they had things to discuss, so the pack said no more, just nodded, and left them alone.

"They noticed your behavior, didn't they?"

"They must have a very poor relationship with the medical area; their bandages are poorly placed, and even one is not suitable for the type of injury," Jim remarked. "I think they did it themselves; someone trained wouldn't make such simple mistakes."

"It's clear they aren't being treated according to protocol," Kamli growled, "and yet, the miserable ones dare to ask for raises."

"Laswell suspects they are also smuggling medications, and I think so too," Aeris sighed as she took off her tactical vest. "For now, it would be better to rest, especially you; tomorrow you must return to the field." She lightly tapped the bed for them to climb up. That night, the three would sleep in the same bed; it was a custom they had adopted upon arriving in new places, as the protective instincts of the two hybrids were at their highest during the first two days.

●❯────────────────❮●

Let's start this adventure!

I'm sorry if there are spelling mistakes, I'm not good at English, but I do my best.

if you want to be on the tag list please let me know in comments :D

likes and reblogs are very appreciated by this author !

[kymerawrites]

Sugar daddy Simon x OC

Ghost was sat in a room with his team while they were being debriefed about their next mission. His attention was dragged away from his captain speaking once he felt his phone vibrate insistently in his pocket. He pulls it out, already irritated at the interruption and ready to hang up when he sees the contact name. Shym. Ah, hell. He can never resist shym is his only real weakness.

He excused himself and stepped out into the hallway where he answered the call. “ Hey, sugar. “

He leaned back against the cold wall. He missed her so much, it’s been a while now since they were last together. He wanted nothing more than to see her face even if it’s through the phone. That’s why he never let her send him pictures, in case he lost his phone. “ I’m sorry for not calling earlier.” He said lowly, his English accent slightly thick now with his tiredness.

“It’s fine Simon, never apologize for keeping the world safe.” I laughed

That’s the reason why he loved her so much. Even though she doesn’t know what he does she still understood and respected it. She never pushed him for answers, never nagged him while he was gone and was still by his side when he had his bad days. He chuckled lowly. “ Have you been behaving? “ He asked with a teasing smirk.

“Hmmm, give me an example?”

His smirk widened. He could practically see her pout through his phone and just the image of it made his chest feel tight. “ Have you been taking care of yourself, eating and sleeping well? I haven’t been there to make you. “ He replied.

“I’m doing amazing, the girls are going shopping today, sort of challenge but I’m not participating.”

He hummed and crossed one foot over the other. He hated hearing about her being with the girls, especially when he knew how rowdy they got. Just imagining her in a club or bar with drunk men circling her made that possessive feeling in his chest grow. “ Oh yeah. And why aren’t you going?” He asked, his voice a bit lower.

“They have this challenge, ask their partners for a creditcard and go on a shopping spree.”

He raised a brow at that. He wasn’t surprised that those girls came up with something like that, but the thought of Shym doing it rubbed him the wrong way. “ And you’re staying home because you know I’d never give you my credit card. “ He mumbled.

“No not at all, ofcourse I need some new clothes, want to look all dolled up for you when your back, but I should do that with my own money.” I mumbled

That made him freeze. Now he imagined her dressed up pretty for him and it sent a flare of want and need to his chest. He clenched his jaw and shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the thoughts that suddenly filled his mind. “ Don’t worry about looking dolled up for me. “ He muttered in a tight voice. “ I’d rather take the clothes off of you anyways. “

“Some new lingerie would help with that won’t it? Change of scenery” I whispered

He bit back a curse at her words, trying to keep his voice steady. “ And why is it that you want that all of a sudden. “ He said, even though he already knew the answer. The images filling his mind were sending a slow wave of heat through his body, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh baby, haven’t you forgot that the knife play you do torn a lot of my lingerie and clothes” bastard I thought

A smirk tugged at his lips. He knew she was a bit miffed about him damaging her clothes and lingerie. But that just made him smile more. “ I’ve noticed you complaining about it too. “ He stated, keeping his tone calm. But he couldn’t help but tease her a bit, his voice lowering into a low whisper. “ But when it’s happening you don’t really protest now do you?”

He could practically her blush through the phone at that tease, his smirk growing more now. His hand moved up to the back of his neck and rubbed it absently. She was too easy to tease sometimes. “ You like it don’t you, sugar. “ He said, his voice coming out more rough now. He couldn’t stop the images that filled his mind as he spoke, they were starting to effect him too now.

“ You like when I leave marks all over you. “ He continued quietly. “ Leaving you all bitten and bruised in the shape of my hands. “ He knew they were both getting effected by his words. He could hear her breath hitch slightly on the other line and it made his pants tighten in response, biting his lip under his mask.

“ You don’t complain when I rip through your clothes to touch your body. “ He said, his voice barely a whisper now from the huskiness of his voice. He wasn’t sure he could stop the words even if he wanted to. Her soft breaths against the phone was making his chest tighten with need. “ When I use my knife to- “ he stopped himself before his voice got too ragged.

“Amex gold in the 3rd drawer, buy some nice stuff.” He said out of no where

Ghost froze, his mind momentarily distracted from his own lust and his smirk faltered slightly. Was he really giving her his credit card? He didn’t have to. She certainly didn’t need it. But when he thought about it, his eyes darkened. The thought of her buying something with his money and wearing it had his blood heating. He took a slow breath in, trying to push down the possessive feeling in his chest.

“ Are you sure about that sugar? “ He muttered, moving his hand to his jaw and rubbing the skin there. He knew he should be telling her no. But that damn possessiveness he had was making him hard to think clearly. He wanted her in his clothes and in his things.

A grin formed on my face “I’ll make sure I’ll look perfect when you come back.”

A shiver went down his spine at her soft reply. He could practically see that cheeky grin on her face. And he hated the fact the the thought of her in anything of his was making him needy and wanting. She was going to be the death of him. “ Don’t tease me, sugar. “ He muttered, his voice coming out as a near growl.

I laughed “go back to your debrief baby, I’ll talk to you soon.”

Ghost couldn’t keep the grumble from leaving his throat as she ended the call. He was going to be useless in the debrief now. His mind had now been filled with the image of her buying clothes with his credit card. It was almost like she did this on purpose. He put his phone away and took a moment to compose himself before heading back to his debrief.

He was definitely turned on. But he tried to force it down as he walked back into the room. His captain picked up the conversation but he barely even heard it. His mind was filled with thoughts of Shym spending his money, wearing his clothes. It was driving him insane thinking of it.

And I went crazy on my shopping, but kept it on a limit. 5k max, the poor man’s credit shouldn’t become a issue in the future.

I got a facial, new hairstyle, shoes, clothes, makeup and the cherry on top expensive lingerie.

Despite only having a limit on the credit card, it didn’t take long for the charges to appear on his account with every purchase she made.

He groaned when he pulled out his phone to check his credit card usage and saw all the transactions. 5k was gone within an a few hours. But he couldn’t deny that he liked it. She was using his money and buying things they both would enjoy. He bit his lip as he checked how much he had left and decided it wasn’t a problem. He could just ask for an increase if he really needed to.

But the fact that she had just spent 5k on makeup, shoes etc. made him smirk. His mind immediately went to imagining the amount of things she would buy with a higher limit. But he couldn’t let himself dwell on that at the moment. He had a meeting to go to and his captain would notice his distracted state if he didn’t compose himself quickly.

That evening he FaceTimed me, still with his mask on and getting ready for bed, we had a little timezone difference as I was in New York and he was in Chile on a mission

“Enjoying the summer weather right now in chile?”

He was in the room they gave him for the mission. He had just finished changing into some clean clothes after a long debrief and was just sitting down on his bed, checking his phone. He chuckled at her words and leaned back, laying against the headboard. “ You could say that. “ He replied as he shifted on his bed, getting comfortable. “ The heat wave has been a pain to deal with while in the field. “

I scoffed “English lads cannot deal with shite, when can I finally take you to my parents in the Seychelles without complaints?”

He rolled his eyes as she teased him, knowing full well that he absolutely hated the heat. It was ironic given that the first place she wanted him to go to was to her parent’s villa in the hottest place in the world. “ Never. “ He replied. “ Can your parents even handle me, sweetheart? “ He shot back teasingly.

He could tell by her expression that she was pouting at his response. He chuckled at that and felt a pang of wanting in his chest. He missed her face. “ Stop pouting love. “ He chastised, his voice quieter now. “ Can’t believe you’d rather take me to a hot sunny island than a cold snowy one. “

“You want exotic, you get exotic!” I exclaimed. “Wait let me turn on my camera, look at my hair!”

He groaned in response, already knowing that she was just taking the piss now. “ exotic huh? “ He retorted, shaking his head in fake disappointment as he watched her turn on her camera. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the new look, his eyes darkening as he took in the new colour. “ Well… looks good. “ He said, his voice coming out a bit strangled.

His pupils dilated quickly, his hands clenching into the sheets. He didn’t expect her to do that so suddenly. “ Christ… “ He mumbled, his voice coming out in a rough whisper. “ You’re cheeky… “ he said, his tone slightly scolding as he swallowed hard.

He could feel himself growing hard from the brief view and he growled softly in frustration. “ Shouldn’t have done that when I’m not there to touch you sugar. “ He hissed, his grip getting tighter on the bedsheets.

I started to touch my bra “means you need to come back fast.”

His eyes followed your hands as you started to touch your bra. He wanted to touch it. “ You’re not making it easy. “ He grumbled, shifting on the bed and grabbing his mask. “ You’re being naughty when I can’t even touch you. “

He pulled his mask off and raked a hand through his hair, trying to push back the lust building in his body. His eyes were dark as he looked at her. “ You’re being extra cheeky, sugar. “ He said, his voice sounding more rough now.

“Send more cash and I’ll behave..” I laughed

He cursed silently in his mind when she said that. He hated how damn easy she could rile him up, and even more how easily she could get him to cave to her demands. He didn’t even hesitate before he quickly logged into his app and transferred more money.

He wasn’t even sure how much he sent as he was too hasty in giving in to her. The second it was transferred, he looked back up at her, his eyes darker than before. “ Should I send more. “ He growled, his voice coming out as huskier than usual.

I smiled and let me camera see my thighs, red pantie with gold chain on my belly “maybe..”

His breath hitched at the sight of her thighs and the red panties. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself. But it didn’t really help. “ You’re going to drive me insane… “ He muttered, his voice coming out as a low growl. “ I bet you bought them with my card as well.”

“All for you baby, you know I’m your sugar.” I whispered

He felt his chest twist at that and his eyes darkened further. “ Too damn sweet for me. “ He grumbled, his gaze roaming over all the exposed skin on the screen.” When I come back I swear I’ll leave your skin bruised.”

He felt the possessive feeling grow in his chest. This wasn’t fair. She was thousands of miles away and he couldn’t even touch her. “ Teasing me when I’m not able to even hold you. “ He growled as he stared at her. “ You’re going to be the death of me, sugar.”

My hands traveled over my belly towards the rim of my panties

His eyes immediately followed the movement of her hands towards her panties and his breath hitched again. He bit his lip, trying to control himself but failing miserably. “ Jesus Christ… “ He muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Can I touch myself for you si?”

He growled when she asked that, his eyes darkening even more. “ Christ…. “ He was struggling to keep his voice in control now, his chest tightening. “ You want to touch yourself for me, sugar? “ He asked, his voice coming out as a gruff whisper.

He ran a hand down his chest, wanting the touch her so badly it was driving up insane. “ Do it. “ He said, his tone commanding now

He leant back against the headboard, getting comfortable as he watched her intently. “ I wish to Christ you were here in front of me. “ He bit out, his voice coming out as a huff.

My finger making circles, aroused, in need of touch, arched back. He saw it all “I miss you too baby.. but I can’t stay dry forever.”

His breath hitched at the sight before him, his mind starting to race at the sight of her arching back. “ God you’re beautiful.” He choked out, his voice strained as he watched her. “ Keep taking your time… I want to watch every movement you make.”

I started to whimper “send some more money baby I’ll give the best show you want..”

He groaned at the sound of her whine but wasted no time sending more money. “ How much more do you want, sugar. “ He growled out, his eyes glued to the screen, watching her movements.

“Make it… it… 1k” I whimpered

He grunted but obliged, sending the money immediately. “ You’re getting spoiled. “ He muttered as he watched her on the screen. “ But goddamn do I like spoiling you.”

He shifted on the bed, his sweatpants starting to get tight with his growing need. His eyes were fixated on her, his hands clenching the sheets tightly. “ Keep going.. “ He encouraged, his voice coming out as a ragged whisper.

He ached to be the one touching her instead of her own hands. His chest felt tight with want as he watched her movements on the screen. “ Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He asked, his voice coming out in a low growl.

“I’m thinking about you, how you should be ripping my clothes now..”

He growled at her words, his eyes darkening even more with possessiveness. “ Goddamn it… Wish I was there to rip those new clothes to shreds. “ He muttered, his grip on the sheets getting tighter.

He shifted slightly on the bed again, his body feeling like it was on fire. “ You wearing anything that’s mine sugar? “ He asked, his voice coming out huskier than normal.

I kept circling and showed my new heels, clear glass and high “I hope you like them..” I started to moan as I became wetter

He growled softly when she showed him the heels. “ I like all the things you bought with my card. “ He said, his gaze darkening as he watched her move. “ But your new moans are the best thing you’ve gotten with my money so far.”

“It’s VIP..” I started to arch again and it became intense “si…”

He groaned at her arching, feeling himself straining in his pants. “ God… “ He muttered out, his body feeling like it was on fire from desire. “ You’re being extra needy when I’m away. “ He said, his voice coming out as a rough grumble.

“I can’t hold it any longer..” I moaned

He felt the need to touch her growing stronger as he watched her on the screen. “ Don’t hold it anymore.” He ordered, his voice coming out as a ragged whisper. “ I want to watch you….”

And I released, I felt hazy hands wet and sticky from myself

He inhaled deeply at the sight of her release, his body feeling like it was burning with need. He wanted to touch her so badly. “ Christ… “ He muttered as he watched her, his eyes darkening further.

He shifted again on the bed, trying to get some relief from the tightness in his pants. “ I wish I was the one giving you that cum. “ he growled out, his voice ragged. “ Goddamn it… “

He clenched the sheets tightly, his body feeling like it was being consumed by her. “ You look so goddamn beautiful when you come. “ He choked out. His eyes were glued to the screen, taking in every movement she made. “

You make me want to break opsec and come home so bad. “ He growled softly, his body feeling like it was on fire.

“Then make sure those enemies are dead in no time. Now go focus on your job I’m tired baby..”

He nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her. “ Fine. “ He huffed out, his body still feeling like it was on fire from desire. “ Get some sleep sugar, I’ll finish up and be home soon. “ He said, his tone coming out gruff and rough.

“Will do Simon, I love you and stay safe..” I gave a kiss trough the camera

He chuckled softly when she gave him a kiss through the camera. “ Love you too, baby. “ He returned the kiss with one of his own. “ I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? “ He said, his tone still sounding a bit rough, but softer now.

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes softening. “ Sweet dreams, okay? “ He said before reluctantly ending the call, his body still feeling like it was on fire with need.

[thegnomelord]

If you do make the rest please do! Bcs like... Im thristing for sully more than price now LOL IM SORRY 😭😭😭 HE'S JUST SO BBY GIRL??? i want to fuck this prettty man so bad arghhh

I need more reader and oc! They're so good and and!! I wanna fuck em so bad like 😭😭

Okay I have no idea where this came from but you've managed to get my brain on the 'fuck Sully' bandwagon so here's this

CW:NSFW, mean dom x sub x gentle dom, domtop Reader, subbot Sullivan (oc), domtop Knox (oc) I may have forgotten what features I gave sully lol

Sullivan is a pretty boy. Pretty brown curls tussled like a crows nest, pretty thin lips kiss swollen and caught between his teeth to muffle his moans, pretty dark eyes puffy and red from crying, pretty red scales on his cheeks shining with the tears having wet them.

Pretty lithe body quivering and arching off the bed as Knox forces even more of his strap into his clenching hole, hips smacking together when Knox bottoms out with a sharp thrust. "Relax." The admonishment comes with a sharp slap to Sully's hip, just shy of hitting his balls but it earns a pitiful whimper and a spurt of precum all the same.

Sullivan's cock and balls look hilariously large on his small frame, the flared head reaching almost to the bottom of his sternum. His chest and even his chin is covered in cum from countless orgasms, Knox having expertly worked a toy until Sully had cum before switching out for a bigger one.

This had been Knox's idea. To use various dildos on Sully until you built up to a silicon mold of Sullivan's own cock. You had asked Sully if he wanted it multiple times, and by the time you were satisfied that he didn't feel forced to do anything and genuinely wanted this, he was already squirming with an obvious bulge in his pants and red like a lobster.

"Come on pretty thing," Knox growls, serpentine yellow eyes glowing with lust as he bucks his hips, the head of the toy brushing against his prostate. "You can take more than this." He slapped Sullivan's thigh again, claws raking across flushed skin, other hand snaking up to lazily roll Sully's heavy balls in his clawed hand.

It shows how Sully has even your most sadistic teammate wrapped around his finger as Knox has let Sully cum multiple times. Usually Knox preferred to keep his subs on the edge until they learned that begging for release was useless and were forced to wait until he deemed them ready to cum.

Sully numbly shook his head, blurry eyes staring up at you from where his head rested on your lap. "Please- please sir, I can't-" A loud moan was forced out of his chest when Knox pulled his hips back before roughly bucking back in, his stretched hole wetly slurping with all the lube you're using.

Your hands soothingly run through Sully's hair, his head resting on your thigh. Tenderly holding his cheek you tilt his head to look at you, "Do you want to stop?"

Your question makes Knox stop, his yellow eyes observing both of you. Sullivan whines as if you'd kicked him, eyes fluttering open and closed as he tries to focus on you. "I- sir." He whines, trying to buck his hips into Knox, trying to get him to move. He's so close he feels like he'll explode, his cock twitching against his skin as he whines.

Knox isn't taking it, clawed hands gripping Sully's hips and pinning them down. "C'mon, precious, the captain asked you a question." He growls.

You chuckle, but your eyes narrow. "Sully, answer me." Your voice is firm, keeping his head steady so he can only look at you. "Don't worry, we won't be mad if you want to stop."

"No- no, no no!" Sully whimpers, a full body shiver raking down his body. "I- please, sir- I want to continue." He sobs, his cock twitching as Knox continues to deny that mind numbing pleasure he needs. "Please, I'm so close- just, please, please,"

Your eyes meet Knox's before the man moves, slowly pulling out so Sully can feel every inch of the large silicone shaft until only the tip remains. And suddenly shoves the entire thing back in, silicone balls roughly slapping against Sully's own.

"See cap?" Knox grins as Sullivan seizes up, a pathetic sob leaving him as cum spurts from his tip, mumbling words of gratitude that are too slurred for you to understand. "Told you, our pretty thing takes cock better than a seasoned whore." He thrusts into Sully a couple more times, making a big dollop of cum spurt from his cock when Knox bottoms out.

"Th-thank you sir- oh frick- sirs." Sully manages, soft moans and shuddering breaths leaving his lips. He sobs as Knox pulls the large dildo out fully, wet and lewd sounds reaching your ears and you can just imagine his hole clench around nothing, still so needy for more.

You make a curious sound as Knox pulls on Sully and flips him over. The small man moans as his cock, still hard as rock, rubs against the sheets. "Oh come on now sergeant, that's no way to thank your captain." Knox's eyes meet yours, a hungry look in them as he pushes Sully's head closer to your crotch. "Ain't that right?"

"I suppose so." You hum, unbuckling your belt and finally freeing your cock. You'd hate to admit, but seeing Sully be ruined over and over again on Knox's various cocks has made you hard. Sully looking up at you with such adoring eyes through his ruffled hair certainly doesn't help, especially when he eagerly nods his head.

"Alright pretty boy," You see the way your low purr makes him shudder. He leans into your hand when you slide it to the back of his head, loosely wrapping your fingers in his hair. "Open wide for me," Sully eagerly opens his mouth, greedily taking in your cocktip, too fucked out to feel shy so he just takes half your shaft in one go.

Knox slaps Sully's ass in reward and you feel him moan around you. "How's he feel cap?" He asks as if he doesn't pull the poor man into a supply closet at least once a day to have Sully eat him out. Knox's wide palm smacks down on Sullivan's reddening cheek a few more times, watching the full globes jiggle before he leans back to take off the dildo he'd used, picking up one that's a little wider and longer than before.

You hum a small purr, watching Sully mindlessly slobber over your cock, his hand carefully stroking your other one. "Like a dream." Sully can't hide the shiver at your praise, wiggling his ass without even realizing. "Good boy," You say and gently pull him by the hair to take more of you, your eyes flickering to look at Knox. "Don't keep him waiting any more, he's earned this."

Knox rolls his eyes, a scoff on his lips, but you know it's just for show. "I'd argue on that." He slaps the new dildo on Sully's back, grinding it between the cheeks and letting him feel the entire length of it as he lubes it up. Sully arches his back and Knox leans back to position the thick head against his stretched hole. "But who am I to refuse a slut like this?"

[sinsinsininning]

A little bit softer

Chapter 2.

Eustass Kid x crew mate!fem!reader

TW: depictions of DV, descriptions of medical terms and procedures, not as smutty

A/N: I don’t know why but l always have to make my reader inserts or OCs a medic in some way……It’s probably bc I’m a vet tech.

~~~~~~

Kid felt… guilty, which wasn’t a normal thing for him. Suspecting you were scared of him was one thing. But knowing you were scared of him was another entirely.

He wanted to shake himself some days, you were just a rookie. Not his lover. Not his partner. He didn’t owe you anything. But then he’d ruin his own pep talk by thinking of you and your face.

After your conversation with Heat, Kid walked on eggshells around you. The entire crew was still trying their damnedest to meddle with him, so encounters with you had ramped up a lot. You both still did your best to avoid eye contact or speak to him. But it was clearly starting to wear on the crew’s patience.

“You need to handle your shit.” Killer said to him one day in his workshop. Kid couldn’t even pretend not to know what he was on about.

“You need to fuck off!” He shouted, feeling his shoulders shake.

“Just talk with her, you never know, maybe she likes you as well.”

Kid burst out in hysterical laughter, needing a few moments to catch his breath.

“She’s terrified of me Killer,” He coughed. “She thinks I’m gonna hit her or something. I heard her telling Heat.” Killer cocked his head, thinking.

“All the more reason to clear the air. What’s more is I can’t have the crew keep trying to pair the two of you up, it’s getting in the way of their tasks.” Kid fixed him with a glare.

“Newsflash, asshole! You were the one who started that shit!” He turned back to his table. “Besides the fuck am I gonna say to make her feel better? Huh?”

“That’s true, you’re not good with words.” Killer nodded and began approaching him. “You’ll just have to use your actions.” Kid laughed.

“Oh yeah? How am I gonna do that?” He asked sarcastically before a sharp pain flared in his right arm. “Ow what the fuck?!”

Killer had cut his arm, a deep laceration at least 5 inches long. The masked man shrugged at his shouting.

“She’s in the med bay, go up there, tell her you got cut while working. Ask her to patch you up.”

“Fuck you this stings!” Kid pressed a used rag to his arm. “I’ll fucking stab you.”

“She won’t be there much longer. Tell her you can’t find me and you can’t stitch yourself with one hand.” Killer took that moment leave, Kid stood there fuming for a moment. Part of him wanted to just stay down here and fix it later, just to piss Killer off.

But a stronger part of him wanted to see you, hopefully you wouldn’t run or hide. He made his way slowly to the med bay, almost hoping you’d be gone. As he entered he saw how unlucky he was.

You had your back to him, wiping down the machines that sterilized the suturing materials and other rudimentary instruments. He coughed to get your attention, keeping his injured arm hidden behind the doorframe.

“Hip are you don- oh!” He hated how tense you became, you soft stomach clenching in worry. “Sorry captain, I thought Hip was done with the mop. What can I do for you?” He showed you his arm and felt a small bit better as you gasped with worry.

The rag he’s used to staunch the bleeding made it look worse than it was, but it had dried a little and was now stuck to his skin. You motioned for him to sit on the chair by the table.

“How’d that happen?” You asked, trying to gently peel the rag off.

“Was working and it just kinda happened.” He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to lie to you. “Don’t know where Killer is and I can’t sew with only one hand.” Still not lies technically.

“Gotcha.” You’re all business and he feels a little flush at the sight of you zipping around the room gathering materials. “Well it’s not too bad, really deep though. I’ll numb it, suture it really quick and you should be on your way.” Any trace of fear or anxiety was gone, your posture alert but relaxed, you soft face was focused.

“Take your time.” Kid drawled, enjoying the view, didn’t hurt that your ass looked good as you bent over to grab something under the desk. Your ass always looked good he decided. “Got nowhere to be.”

“Not true,” You return with a small syringe, some type of numbing drug he assumed. “You’re the captain, you probably got plenty of stuff to be doing.”

He didn’t respond, the injection you gave him stung so he had to bite back his swears about it. Neither of you spoke as you worked. You had to stand pretty close to place the sutures, your hands cold but soft as you touched him.

You shivered at one point and Kid realized, horrifically, that he’d leaned to far forward to watch your hands. You glanced up at him, caught his gaze and shuffled a bit further back. He wanted to growl as he saw how tense you’d gotten, your soft apology only making him more frustrated.

You were halfway done and he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“So.” You tensed again, he could see it in your neck especially. “I never did ask… who was your old captain?” You jabbed the needle a bit harder at the question, obviously not on purpose as you profusely apologized. He ignored and continued to stare until you answered.

“His- um. His name is um… It’s Badger. Captain Badger.” You try to focus once more.

“How long did you sail with him?”

“2 years.”

“How big was the crew?”

“About 15.”

“Where’d you sail?”

“West Blue.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Um.” You were almost shaking, he almost hesitated.

“Why’d you leave his crew?”

“What does it matter?” Oh that was a response, he grinned, anger was better than fear. At least in his book.

“Answer the question. It’s important for me to know.”

“You never needed to know before. Why now?”

“Because I’ve been watching you.” He leans forward more, meeting your heated glare as you tied the final knot. “You’ve got some peculiar habits, I’d like to know more about that.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

He nodded.

“Like on deck or like…. In my room?”

“Not like that you pervert!” He can’t help but shout, you don’t flinch though. A small grin on your face as you successfully get him off the topic.

“So not my room or the showers? Just to clarify.” He knows he’s blushing but he still growls and stands to his full height. You step back but he follows you, a look of fear in your eyes takes over the glee. But he can’t stop himself from continuing.

“You’re clever, but I still need an answer.” He crowds your space, placing both hands on the counter behind you, caging your body with his. He leans forward, letting his breath fan over your ear. “Why did you leave?”

You stay silent, face red and a little sweaty, he pulls back just enough to admire the sight. He can’t make a reassuring face to save his life, but he tries as tears fill up your eyes. Still, he can’t stop, he needs this. You need this.

“If you are unhappy with my performance or skills, tell me and I will fix them. I haven’t brought any bad habits on board. I assure you.” You finally answer, your words felt warm against his face, he grinned some more.

“Uh-uh you see, one of those habits, the only one really,” His grin drops from his face. “Is that you’re scared of your captain.” You pale at his words and start to shake a little. He continues, drawing back slightly.

“That’s something he taught you, right?” He tilted his head a little. “To be scared of your captain. Because you never know when he’ll just up hit you, right?” He parroted your words from the bar back to you. Your eyes are wide with recognition.

“I’m sor-“

“Save it,” He cuts you off. “I know I’m scary, it’s my whole deal. I’m a scary pirate who murders and pillage. But my crew is mine. Understood. I don’t let anyone harm them, especially not myself.” You lean back into the counter more.

“You hurt Wire. You made him need staples and you didn’t even seem sorry. You didn’t help patch him up.” Kid knew this was coming, he still didn’t know what to say.

“It was a mistake,” He said. “I didn’t mean to hit him, but you’re right. I should’ve check on him and made sure he wasn’t hurt.” It was hard to admit he was wrong, but in the small medical room, to you, it was a little easier.

Both of you stayed quiet for a while. He made no move to let you go. And you made no move to try. He wasn’t sure if he would’ve actually stopped you if you did. Finally, the tension in you jaw and shoulders eased, just a little.

“Badger… was bad. He didn’t just hit us. He stole from us and wouldn’t let us leave, even if some managed to escape they’d have no Beris. It’d be like starting from scratch, but worse because if he caught you he’d kill you.” You paused, taking a big breath, turning to stare at the wall. “I was secretly saving Beris, to hopefully run off and be able to hide from him. I didn’t have much, barely anything. One day he came and told me he wanted me to be his… wife.” Kid stood up straight, leaning back like he’d been struck, you continued barely noticing him.

“I told him no, I should’ve said yes and bided my time. Maybe I could’ve taken more people with me, but I was an idiot.”

“No that’s not-“ You cut him off.

“He threw a fit, tried to kill me. His devil fruit power nullifies weapons, so I couldn’t fight back. I tried to stage a mutiny, but everyone was too afraid, he’d never lost a fight. Eventually I jumped over board and swam to shore. I hid on a marine ship, I never had a bounty so I just pretended to be some girl who wanted to travel. I flirted with some of them and got a ride to a port a few islands over.” You sighed, a long exhale that seemed to deflate you. “I had no Beris or even clothes. But I overheard some rookies talking about joining your crew. I figured it was the safest option. So I spoke with Killer and here I am.” You trailed off quietly, tears still hadn’t fallen yet, it was almost impressive.

Kid didn’t speak for several long minutes, just watching you hold your breath. Finally he pushed off the counter, giving you both some breathing room. He began to exit when you called out.

“Captain what are you doing?”

He turned with a scowl.

“I’m setting a course to go murder that asshole.”

“What? Why that’s so far off our course.”

“I told you, you’re my crew. We’re gonna go murder him, then if any of your old friends wanna join the crew they can.” He laughed at your shocked face. When he’d caught his breath he turned again to leave.

[softspeirs]

These Heartbeats Clear (4): Rosie Rosenthal x OC

A/N: You mean I was supposed to watch ep 7 and Rosie run towards a recently landed B-17 all heroically and not write something where he helps with the wounded? *laughs maniacally* These Heartbeats Clear Masterlist

four (loss & grief)

Heads tilted upwards, every stood-down pilot, crew member, and civilian on base counts the number of planes coming in.

It's always fewer than they expect.

The 100th is taking so many losses at this point in the war, Rosie is not surprised when two planes barely make the runway. Red-red flares, wounded aboard. Landing gear screeching, holes in wings smoking, and he's moving before he can even think about what he's doing.

The hatch is open and a slew of bullet casings come tumbling out, a crew member not far behind, dazed. Rosie reaches for him out of instinct, gripping his elbow to keep him upright.

"You're all right, son." He says, but the Captain either doesn't hear him, or hasn't processed it. Rosie lets go.

His attention is drawn, as it tends to be, to the arrival of Lieutenant Grace Fleming. Her face is pale, but set in grim determination.

She meets his eyes for a split second. If she’s surprised to see him there, she doesn’t show it, instead she focuses on the man in front of her, fallen to his knees. His breath comes in fits and spurts.

“Captain—“ She barks, eyes flicking up to Rosie’s once more. “A hand.”

It’s not a request. If he’s here, he has to make himself useful. Another nurse on her left, they’re lowering the man to the ground.

“Need him on a litter right away.”

“Count of three.” Rosie confirms, another member of the medical corps arriving at their side with a stretcher.

“Nurse—“ the man stutters, blood seeping from between his chattering teeth. “Miss Grace, please.”

Grace freezes for only a moment, but it’s enough for Rosie to see. Her jaw clenches. “I’m here, you’re alright. Try to slow your breathing for me, okay?” Her hands are gentle as she clasps his. She presses their interlocked hands to the man’s chest, leaning over him. “You’ve got a bad leg wound and some shrapnel elsewhere, we’re going to get you inside and take care of you.”

“Please,” he begs again. “Grace, I don’t want to die.”

Rosie is relieved when Grace looks at him, nodding once. “Count of three.” She says.

One, two, three, and they’re lifting. Into the ambulance the young Lieutenant goes, and Grace is right behind. Rosie helps her in, hands gripping around her waist and hoisting her inside before he can second guess touching her like that.

“Later.” She says to him quietly before shutting the door.

It didn’t need to be said - their sunset meetings on the hard stand have been a staple for the both of them since he came back from the flak house.

He turns back to the chaotic scene behind him, wanting to help. Scenes like this are becoming more and more common. It makes alarm bells ring in his head. Somehow, though, it makes him more sure about his next move.

.

He waits around on the hard stand for a half hour before a feeling in his gut has him turning back towards the barracks.

He goes to the women's hut first. Shaking his head at his sudden nervousness, he raps his knuckles on the door. Entering uninvited seems wrong, and when the door is opened in front of him, he hastily whips off his hat and clutches it between his fingers.

"Captain!" The woman says, and Rosie is embarrassed to admit to himself that he doesn't know her name.

"I'm looking for--"

"Grace?" Word has gotten around, then. "She hasn't been here. Still at the hospital as far as I know. She missed dinner."

Rosie frowns. That's not like her.

Following his gut, he thanks the woman at the door and turns on his heels, heading in the opposite direction. Not for the first time, he wishes he had a jeep or a bike at his disposal - he knows he could find someone to give him a lift, but he doesn't want to draw any more attention to his meeting with Grace than he apparently already has.

The hospital is eerily silent. He forces himself inside - he still hates the smell and the way everything is so blindingly white.

A few men he recognizes from the landing earlier are in bed, most asleep. Their wounds range from what appear to be minor to a man who is bandaged nearly from head to toe.

There is still blood on the floor.

He steps carefully past the last bed. Still no sign of Grace.

Water runs in a small room to his left, and he makes his footfalls a little heavier in hopes that he doesn't startle her if she is indeed still here, preparing to leave for the day.

He peers around the corner to see her, hands deep in the washing basin. She is scrubbing at her hands so hard, she sounds out of breath. A sick, sinking feeling hits him in the gut.

"Grace." He says her name softly. It comes out hoarse. He takes a few steps closer when she doesn't react. "Grace?"

She's still scrubbing at her hands. When he gets close enough, he can see the color of her skin - bright pink, the water so hot steam is rising from the tap. The soap running from her fingers is clean, not a tinge of any color that shouldn't be there running down the drain.

Her hands are shaking.

Without saying anything else, he reaches for the tap and shuts it off. She doesn't stop rubbing at her hands, her knuckles, her fingernails.

"Grace." His voice is firmer this time. His hands settle over hers. He almost pulls away because of how hot her touch is, but the shaking only gets worse in her long fingers, and he grips her tighter out of instinct.

"He didn't make it." She says, voice like he's never heard it before. Flat. Emotionless. "The Lieutenant from--" She stops, and it's not really a cry, but more of a strangled noise that leaves her throat. "His plane was called Borrowed Time."

Rosie's throat is tight as he watches her. He gently guides her away from the sink, hands still tight around hers. "Come on, sit down for a second."

"I can't-- I have to get the blood off."

"Gracie, you're clean, okay?"

"He-- he begged me." She looks at him then. There are tears in her eyes, but he knows her well enough to know she won't let them fall. "He didn't call for his mother, or for God. He begged me."

Rosie throws all caution to the wind. He pulls her sideways so she's half in his lap. His arms go around her, tugging her close, her head finding purchase on his shoulder. Her breathing is strangled, and he knows she's trying not to break.

"You did everything you could." He assures her. "I know you did everything you could."

"You don't know that. Not for sure."

He's shaking his head before she can even finish her sentence. "Yes, I do. There's no one better than you, Grace."

She's quiet for a long time before she pulls away from him. His arms open automatically, and he clears his throat as a sudden awkwardness lands between them like an anvil. "I need to get out of here." She whispers.

"Come on." He says, holding his hand out to her. It feels like an eternity waiting to see if she'll take it.

She does.

.

Lemmons appears at some point to hand over a hastily wrapped parcel of sandwiches and sodas. Rosie looks up at him gratefully, even more grateful when Ken doesn't say anything - he's gotten used to seeing Rosie and Grace out here together.

Grace's face is a mask of stoicism, but Rosie knows better by now. He can see the crease in between her eyebrows that only shows up when she's tired or worried.

He can see the way her shoulders slump downward, her posture normally ramrod straight from years of being shouted at by her parents.

When they're alone again, he watches her carefully for signs that she's knitting herself back together. He doesn't know if his more-than-forward touch in the hospital was wanted, so he doesn't try again, though his fingers itch with the urge to take her hand or pull her close so he can feel her warmth.

"Your twenty-fifth is coming soon." She says suddenly.

He frowns at her. "Why are you thinking about that?"

"You have to go home, Rosie." Her voice trembles.

He takes a step backward. "What? I--"

"Captain Rosenthal, so help me, if you go up there again, you're going to end up in a hospital bed, and if you make me have to tend to you like that, I'll never speak to you again."

His hands go to his hips as he weighs his words. He doesn't want to upset her, he doesn't want to pretend that everything is going to be fine -- hell, he might not make it back at all, let alone without a scratch.

"I can't promise you that."

She stares at him. "You're going to re-up after twenty five." It's not a question.

"The thought has crossed my mind."

She wraps her arms around herself, and he sees it for what it is, shielding herself for what she sees as an unavoidable blow coming her way.

He takes a few steps closer to her, unable to stand the distance any longer. "I'm going to come back." His voice is firm, full of the conviction he feels because he trusts himself, he trusts his men, and because he has something to come back for. He's tired of pretending that's not the case. "I'm going to come back, and I swear I won't have more than minor mending for you to do, all right?"

She looks up at him, the slight widening of her eyes the only indication that he's standing closer than she thought he was. But she doesn't back away.

Her arms fall from around her waist, and reach for him instead. He lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Her touch moves from grasping his hand up to his elbow, and then she's tugging him closer, folding him into an embrace. This time it's him who finds a spot for his forehead on her shoulder, inhaling as he feels her grip him tight.

"Thank you." She whispers. Whether it's for the promise of coming back or for pulling her back from the brink today, he wants to tell her that she doesn't need to thank him, that he would be the one to pull her back a hundred times over if it meant he'd get to have these moments with her.

When they pull apart, arms still around each other, he watches the fading sunlight in her eyes and thinks he's never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his entire life.

How he restrains himself, he has no idea.

They walk back to the barracks hand in hand after he stares her down, laughing when she rolls her eyes at him demanding she eat some food in his presence before she goes to sleep.

At the door, he watches her shoulders straighten and hears her take a big, deep breath. He recognizes the motions because he does them too, every time before he hauls himself through the hatch again.

Once more unto the breach.

He's so proud of her. For fighting her way through the hardest day of the war for her so far, for getting up each day and finding a way to be a comforting touch, a healing hand, and a smiling face for these men. He wonders if she has any idea how many lives she's saved, and not just from medicine.

One day he'll have the courage to put into words what she means to him, too.

Today, though, he raises his hand in a farewell as he takes a few steps backward, and laughs under his breath as she blushes just a little.

Her smile plays on a loop over and over again as he falls asleep that night.

[stargazing-sapphire2]

Legacy - 1/?

Summary: With the disappearance of Logan and with Rorke still out there, the Ghosts soon find themselves back at war with the Federation. Amidst the chaos and death, Beth and Hesh will soon find their relationship put into question when an unexpected surprise finds its way into their lives...and whether or not they will live to see the end of this conflict.

[A Post Call of Duty: Ghosts fanfiction; David "Hesh" Walker/OC]

TRIGGER WARNING(s): Canon-Typical Violence, spoilers for the Ghosts campaign, Unplanned Pregnancy, Alcoholism/Drug use, Psychological Torture/Brainwashing, Rorke is a whole ass trigger warning, PTSD *more to be added for future chapters*

TAGLIST: @thatonesillyducko @deeptrashwitch @gunnrblze @maymaylyn @blacktacmopsi @milkteaarttime @imagoddamnonionmason @me-is-confused @seraphiixiao

“So…is this it?”

Hesh lifted his head as he heard her speak. He glanced over at her curiously, noting the frown on her face.

“About what?” He questioned.

Beth shrugged, reaching over to push back her bangs from her face.

“You’re going after Rorke.”

“Yeah?”

Beth went silent, as if contemplating her next words. Hesh watched her passively, but some part of him knew deep down he was not going to like what she said.

It was the way she is, after all.

“I could go with you,” she offered softly.

Hesh immediately sat up with a start, and she mimicked the gesture.

“No,” he said, a little too quickly for his liking.

Beth frowned, sitting up next to him.

“Why not?” She demanded.

He hesitated.

How so badly he wanted to tell her…

“This is mine and Logan’s fight,” he replied.

Her eyes flared.

“It’s my fight too!” She snapped. “You’re not the only one who has a stake in this!”

Hesh’s hands grabbed at her shoulders, and Beth froze, eyes widening as she stared at him.

“I can’t..” His voice was shaky, breathless. “I can’t lose you. Please, don’t make go through that…”

Beth stared at him, her eyes softening monetarily as he said this. The pair sat in silence, waiting for the other to speak first.

Finally, Beth exhaled, reaching over to grip at one of his wrists as he slowly released her.

“It won’t come to that,” she murmured, squeezing it lightly as if to reassure him, or herself.

Perhaps to reassure both of them.

Hesh gripped both her hands now, his green eyes staring into her blue ones.

“Don’t make me go through that…” He repeated, voice wobbling as he looked her in the face. “Please…

“You won’t lose me,” she told him, leaning in closer and--

~*~

Hesh opened his eyes.

The first sight he was greeted to was the black canopy of a tent, and a dull, aching throb in his abdomen. Breathing heavily, he slowly sat up, flinching as his hand instinctively went to his torso as pain shot through it.

Where…?

A startled gasp came from a few feet away, and he turned his head, locking eyes with the source.

“Eva..?” He spoke, wincing at rough his voice sounded, and his throat felt like sandpaper.

“You’re awake,” Eva replied, sighing in relief. She set the clipboard that she was holding down, and made her way over to him, checking over his vitals and the wound in his abdomen, which was currently wrapped up. “How do you feel?”

“Awful,” Hesh admitted as she pulled away. Before he could ask for water, she departed from the tent, most likely going to inform someone he was still alive.

He was left alone with his thoughts, and everything came rushing back to him.

Rorke’s boot smashing into his jaw and knocking him back; his own screams echoing in his head, and laying there, helpless and useless, as Logan was stolen away from him.

All because he did nothing

He did nothing.

What kind of brother am I?

The tent flaps opened, and Hesh lifted his head to glance at the intrusion, his eyes meeting the sharp emerald gaze of Henry Ashford.

After the death of Elias, the other Captain had been named his successor, and as of now, remained the current acting commander of the Ghosts. Despite having grown up with the other man as another authority figure in his life, Hesh had seldom ever seen the man in person ever since he enlisted; having only ever spoke to him on the comms when they were out in the field.

To see him in person now meant it was important.

The Ashford patriarch looked tired, his eyes bloodshot and his hair slightly disheveled and a five o’clock shadow on his face. However, he offered a wry smile to the younger man.

“It’s good to see you alive, son,” he said. Hesh sat up, wincing as pain ripped through his abdomen, but he did his best to ignore it.

“Sir-“

“We’ll be moving out as soon as you’re recuperated,” Henry said, cutting off whatever Hesh was going t say. “We put a dent in the Federation’s forces, but—”

“Henry-“ Hesh tried to get out, frustration bubbling inside him.

“-With Santa Monica destroyed, we’ll need to find another base of operations. I’ll be getting our guys from DC on the line soon and—” Henry continued to drone on.

“Henry, where’s Logan?”

Henry paused his yapping, immediately focusing his attention on Hesh.

“Lieutenant?” The older man questioned.

“Where’s my brother?” Hesh repeated. “Where’s Logan?”

Despite his earlier thoughts, Hesh clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they managed to catch up to Rorke, and managed to rescue Logan.

Maybe he was nearby, maybe he was outside the tent right now, waiting to be called in.

His heart sank when Henry remained silent.

“Henry, please,” Hesh begged, desperation bubbling inside him. “Where’s Logan?”

Henry closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling as if contemplating what to say next. Finally, he opened them again, looking Hesh dead in the face.

“He’s gone.”

His heart shattered.

‘What do you mean…” Hesh stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. “That can’t…he has to be—”

“He’s gone, David,” Henry repeated, a little more sternly this time. “Wherever Rorke took him, he was long gone by the time we got to you.”

Hesh stared at him in disbelief, and Henry shook his head, glancing away from the younger man.

“I’m sorry…” He continued. “But I can’t afford to squander anymore resources looking for one man on a wild goose chase, nor is it a top priority. I’m sorry, David, but Logan is gone.”

He’s gone.

The words repeated in his mind over and over, like a broken record.

Anger, sadness and despair all welled within him, cracking at the wall he tried to hold up; damned if he would weep in front of his commanding officer.

Henry watched him passively, although there was a glean of sympathy in the green of his eyes.

“Take all the time you need alone, son…” He said in a low voice after a heavy pause. “Just shout if you need any assistance.”

He seen exited the tent, and Hesh was alone again.

Bringing his knees up to his chest, Hesh buried his face in them, his body shaking as heaving sobs began to tear their way out of him.

I’m sorry, Logan, he thought sorrowfully. Mom, Dad…I’m so sorry…

He let them down.

He had failed all of them.

What do I do now?

The dam broke, and the tears finally fell.

And he began to weep.

“I’m sorry…” He cried.

[girlkissergideon]

OK my idea so far!!!! im throwing this all together on personal discord server sorry if its messy

TITLE:

ONCE UPON THE OPEN SEAS

i might workshop the title </3

I am keeping them as they are they dont turn human or anything, and while they tend to fight with weaponry im not totally removing their powers from them. for funsies.

JOBS

gricko : captain (its a fun idea) , musician/"musiker"

kremy : quartermaster, cook, shares "boatswain" jobs with frost

frost : cartographer/pilot, acts as a surgeon if it's needed, shares "boatswain" jobs with kremy

(kremy and frost are at the helm/sailing most often)

gideon : carpenter, master gunner / works with artillery(fun job with fire powers lmao), does a lot of the heavy lifting obviously...

torbek : doesnt quite have a "named job", as he finds his joy helping out anywhere he can. he is the one that takes up crows nest/lookout duty though.

twig : sailmaker, helps gideon with carpenter work, helps kremy on very rare occasion with cooking. does a lot of fixer uppers and likes to add her own flare to things with excess sail scrap.

i like to think they modified the boat like cat owners add shelf-steps and tunnels on the walls of their house so she can get around.

umm feel free to ask questions or offer up ideas maybe !!!! i will be adding ocs to this because umm. yeah<3 !!!! i wanna talk about this im having fun

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Chapter 8 - Blow the House Down

[Also Available on AO3]

Shadow Dance Masterlist

Summary: The remaining members of the 141 stage a prison break to free Soap, Ghost, and Los Vaqueros from being "detained" by Graves and Shadow Co.

Warnings/Tags: Minors DNI, swearing, character with trauma, established relationship, military inaccuracies, canon-typical violence, includes some in-game dialogue

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC - 3rd person POV (Rory Sinclair)

Word count: 4.1 K

A/N: the further continuation of Rory's story, this follows and expands upon the COD: MW2 reboot canon. Told from Rory's POV

November 3, 2022 04:57 - Las Almas, Mexico

The hazy gray of dawn slowly began to lighten the sky, yet the golden gleam of the sun remained absent. Cloud cover built overnight acting as the fuel to be burned away in the tinder box of morning radiance. 

From the depths of the receding darkness of the night, the purring engines of two white vans raced down a dirt road, flood lights shining a path towards the exfil point, scorching a hole through the bleak black around them. Skidding to a halt just outside the prison walls, the desert’s powdery sand scattered up behind them and drifted down past the headlights, caught in the rays of the high beams as they parked beside an abandoned vehicle. A chorus of gunfire in the distance greeted them as bullets sliced indiscriminately through the air. Thunder claps of ammunition exiting the chamber rolled over the vast landscape of rocks, cacti, and wild grass, echoing out and silencing the cries of coyotes and the calls of owls. 

Three figures in shadow exited the vehicles, heading towards the prison walls. Their heads on a swivel, eyes peeled for possible enemy activity as they scurried towards their point of access. It seemed as though Shadow Co. was being kept busy, and considering the other vehicle left to the side, someone else must have taken it upon themselves to stage a coup against Graves, an attempt at cutting the head off the snake, one that acted as the perfect distraction for the other members of the 141.

Price’s strides were long and purposeful as he led the way into danger, relaying the rules of engagement to the two soldiers in his wake before they started for the top of the wall. “Expect heavy enemy fire. Take only the shots you need,” he said with a quick glance over his shoulder at Rory, his eyes sharp. “We’re here to get our people out, not clear the zone – this is an extraction, not an offensive.” 

With ropes and ascenders in tow, they made their way up to the top of the wall of the fortress of a prison. Watchtowers stood guard to their left and right, overlooking the prison yard of weathered cement and weeds prying their way through the cracks, sprouting into overgrown shrubs. Below, the distant flashes of muzzle flares glimmered across the ground like fireflies dancing at dusk, burning motes of light traveling in the gloom of the coming morning. 

Bonfire Night had come early, and they had arrived just in time to enter the fray. 

Taking position behind the barrier of concrete, Rory lowered to a kneeling position, placing her rifle on the cover wall. Searching through her scope, she caught sight of the white bone of Ghost’s mask as he, Soap, and the members of Los Vaqueros fought their way through the Shadow Company resistance against them. “We’ve got friendlies coming from our one o’clock,” she called out.

“I see ‘em,” Gaz confirmed while scanning the battle zone below. “They’ve got company.”

Enemy combatants waited for them, scattered throughout the field that the escapees would be forced to cut through. Enough bodies to make it a problem.

Taking a steadying breath, Rory tapped her practiced finger against the trigger and the bullet collided with the back of a Shadow’s thigh while hiding behind cover. A pained groan carried across the expanse of open asphalt, his reaction leaving him open to another rear assault. Without wasting a moment as he dropped, unphased by the quiet tinkling of her bullet casing dancing across the ground, she lined up the angle and with a precision hit, cleared the x-ray from the route.

“Keep that up, Ror,” Price barked approvingly. “I want that route kept clear.”

With a nod, she returned to the comfort of her scope. But that old, reliable feeling of the weight of a weapon in her hands didn’t last long as the low hum of rotors coming to life alerted the group to the appearance of a helicopter heralded by their arrival. 

Soaring overhead – all black, predatory – hunting them down, it swooped in low. The searchlight washed them in bright, white light, stinging their eyes while hair and clothing whipped violently against them under the current blasted from rapidly spinning blades.  

“Focus on that field, Lieutenant,” Price commanded in a hoarse bark, raising his voice above the sound of the aircraft to be heard. The brim of his boonie hat fluttered and flapped as he readied his weapon, tucking it tight against him and taking aim. “Gaz and I’ve got the bird.”

There were times when she could tune out the whole world while staring down her rifle, a reprieve from the continuous noise of her head that she had learned to get along with. Finding the calming point of peace as everything else blurred into white noise. This, however, was not one of those times. The controlled chaos that ensued only increased their chances of success, Shadow Co. were caught with their pants down and they were all too happy to take advantage of that. 

Streaks of fire shot out towards the enemy helicopter from the field opposite them, burning comets in the sky of hot lead ricocheting off the fuselage, sparking against the metal and pinpointing the exact location of their allied forces. Joining forces with the concentrated bullet spray of Gaz and Price’s weapons – the combined weight of heavy fire still wasn’t enough to bring it down.

The loud pinging in Rory’s ears of bullets not quite making their mark caused her to squint, gritting her teeth while reacting to something akin to nails on a chalkboard. A high pitched screech that pinched at the very nerves in her gums, sending shivers to course up her spine and lock her ligaments. Clearing her head with a sharp intake of breath, her lungs holding just to the edge of aching, she once more fired out into the black abyss below and was met with another cry of agony.

“All stations, this is Bravo-6,” Price shouted his orders over the radio, his low growl carrying over the prison barracks walls. “Get down!”

A grenade lobbed into the hovering chopper and the resulting explosion finally caused it to lose control, the fire spreading through the cockpit and flooding the interior like a sinking ship. Crashing into a nearby wall, swallowed up in a giant cloud of smoke and flame, the stench of fuel rose up into the air along with the thick, black fumes that darkened the sky once more. 

“All Bravo and Vaqueros… Top o’ the wall. Get here and I’ll get you out. How copy?”

“Loud and clear, Price. Comin’ to ya…!” 

Ghost’s gravelly voice responding over the comms had her breathing a small sigh of relief. They weren’t anywhere near to being in the free and clear, but it was a small concession she would keep a tight grasp of.

The glint of a green flare sparking to life caught out of the corner of Rory’s eye as Price tossed it down to the ground below, grabbing the attention of their team. The caustic, potent stench of burnt rubber spewing forth as the gas burned off to light the way, mingling with that of the wreckage in the corner – the fiery mass of metal like a solar flare in her scope. 

“Be advised, ropes deployed. Find ‘em and climb.”

“Roger, that.”

The friction squeal of Soap and Ghost’s ascenders on the ropes grew louder as the braided nylon became taut, the two men rising to the top of the wall, vulnerable while Shadow continued firing off potshots towards them. 

Her rifle continued in a rapid succession of percussive bangs as bodies dropped like crumpling ragdolls around the field, sacks of meat and marrow made obsolete with a bullet. Lives taken all in service of keeping her team alive and well. It was a common thing for her not to feel much remorse while taking on the enemy, having learned to ignore that voice in her head repulsed by the thought of killing, teaching herself to see it as inconsequential. Calcification of her conscience. Her or them. But in this case, knowing these were traitors – even if simply following orders like she did – made it all the more simple to shred them with each perfectly positioned shot. As the enemy popped out of cover, it became a game of whack-a-mole, a carnival shooting gallery of targets. Easy picking. Her heart rate maintained at a steady beat as rescue efforts went on around her, letting it all fade into the background, a muted distraction. Take aim, take a deep breath, hold, and then fire. 

The first heavy tactical boot made contact with the edge of the wall with the rough scuff of sole on weathered cement, and the breeze ruffled through the dark fluff of Soap’s mohawk as he reached the heights at the peak of the wall, the rough leather of his gloved hand reaching out to meet Price’s as he was pulled up. Flood lamps above cut sharp streaks of fluorescent light over the sergeant’s face, showing off the weary lines etched around his eyes. His gear stained with blood, it was clear Shadow hadn’t made things easy. 

“Sergeant MacTavish,” John greeted, voice hoarse and rasping like steel wool. His hand rested on Soap’s shoulder, giving one of his trademark pats – ever the handler to his pack of unruly mutts. 

“Good to see you, Captain.”

Soap’s Scottish brogue was an oddly comforting sound after everything that had come to light with Shepherd and Graves, and hearing it, even over her shoulder as Rory continued to fire, made any worries about him and Ghost being in danger instantly fade, settling whatever nerves were hidden under the mask of calm control. 

She rose, rifle in hand, and rested her foot on the wall, the small chunks of chipped away cement crumbling under her foot. Glancing away from her scope for a moment, she tipped her head to the side and made visual contact with the big, blue puppy eyes of MacTavish. “Good to see you in one piece, sergeant.”

A wry grin curled the Scot’s lips, tipping his head eastward. “Ah, ‘the missus’. Thought y’ were supposed t’ be in North Africa, Lamb?”

She hummed, adjusting the rifle in her arms. “Heard your arse needed saving.” Returning to her duty, she changed the angle of her fire, focusing on shorter range, and picked off the Shadows who had closed in around the escaping soldiers. Her bullets buzzed past members of the Los Vaqueros, skillfully missing them, even in tight confines as they lined up to get to the ropes dangling over the edge of the prison wall. 

Shadow forces under fire retreated to the safety of walls, towers, and roofs – Cockroaches, she thought with a sneer, the lot of them. Men and women that were hand selected by Graves himself. Knowing the sort of man he was made her question just what these soldiers were willing to do, what lines they might straddle, others they might cross, and it all made something inside her tense. It took a certain type of person to become a PMC, to pull away from the rigidity of governed rules, the type of person who wanted to make their own. Breaking free of the structure, the form…

Given pause for a moment, her stomach clenched, that quiet voice in the back of her head a timid whisper about whether she was any different at all. She had gone in with good intentions, but that had paved the way to hell. All too aware of what she was capable of, handpicked by Price, willing to forgo the usual channels to complete a mission–

The brief moment of reflection under a starry sky and with bloodshed down below was quickly swallowed back down. Sometimes it was best not to think on those sorts of things.

The next boot met their position with a heavy thud, the weight of a walking fridge behind it, as a long leg swung over the barrier. Rifle hugged tight to his chest, the same way Rory held hers, Ghost scanned their surroundings from on high, dark eyes behind the mask penetrating the gloom below, quietly observing, meeting Gaz’s greeting with a curt nod.

“Garrick. Price.” Ghost’s attention lowered on Rory’s back as she maintained cover fire. “Nice shootin’, Sinclair.” 

“I do my best,” she muttered while taking out another Shadow with a clean shot to the chest. Soap looked between Price, Gaz, and Rory still laying down fire, a hint of confusion in the lines of his brow and around his eyes as he caught his breath. “How’d you know?” “Laswell,” Gaz replied. “Soon as Shepherd went dark, she called us.”

“Laswell, still solid as a rock,” Ghost said, the usual stoicism giving way to a hint of pride hidden behind the handsewn skeletal visage.

As the squad caught up, the Vaqueros began their ascension, beginning with – who Rory assumed was the leader – a grim looking man, his stubbly jaw clenched tight, eyes burning with fire. The sting of betrayal and the need for revenge after being imprisoned by a former ally cut into every sharp edge of his features. 

Soap, seemingly friendly with the man, gave the introductions. “Colonel Vargas, meet Captain Price, Lieutenant Sinclair, and Sergeant Garrick.”

“Thanks for the assist –” Vargas glanced over his shoulder at the sound of yet another shot going off and the cry of pain that followed it reaching his ears, studying Rory for a moment, brow cocking as he watched her catch stray Shadows and keep his men alive. “Suppose you’ve been the one keeping my men under cover fire, huh?”

She pulled back from her scope, releasing the extractor as another casing fell to the ground and chimed softly at her feet. “Suppose so.”

A half grin curled his lips, showing off sparkling teeth. “I’m impressed,” Vargas said, nodding his head. “You’re one hell of a marksman, Señora.”

“Guess that’s why the Captain keeps me around,” she said with a smirk, flipping the wave of hair that fell in front of her eyes back, and glancing past Alejandro’s shoulder at Price, holding his stare until he dragged his tempest gaze away from her, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

“Well, perhaps I could assist,” Alejandro said, immediately getting into position beside her and helping to lay cover fire down for his men against Shadow Company. “Cheers,” she said with a grin that had yet to fade from her face. “Happy for it.”

There were still at least a dozen men below that needed to climb, moving targets for the Shadow forces to take aim at, while the others remained corralled together. Fish in a barrel. Her hand tightened its grip on her weapon, holding it steady against her as she observed the muzzle flares flashing like fireworks before the sound of the gunshots met them. No longer facing singular guards and scouts, there were now roving packs to contend with.  Armored vehicles. Snipers. 

“Gaz, Soap, Ghost – Overwatch – Now!” Price commanded.

A storm of lightning and thunder held contained within prison barracks rained down. Pot shots taken at the wall sent dust and debris falling like hail into the faces of the men trying to climb to safety. Chaos swirled and explosions rang out as soon as Soap got his hands on a grenade launcher, nearly vibrating with excitement over the newfound artillery power. 

The ground shook, rumbling up below their feet as the tectonics of the battlefield shifted, becoming aggravated, an open wound. For everything Shadow threw at them, they met it in kind, holding them off. 

“Got snipers on the roof.” Price growled. “Take ‘em out, Ror.”

“My pleasure.”

Her rifle swung to the left, taking into account the new wind speed and direction as it breezed over the peaks of her cheeks and tousled the loose waves of her hair. Lining up her shot, crosshairs set, eyes narrowed, seconds felt like hours as she listened to the steady rhythm of the beat of blood in her ears – like holding a shell and hearing the ocean. Her gloved finger whispered over the metal of the trigger, and with a sharp breath sucked between gritted teeth, the air was punched from the enemy sniper’s lungs, their life taken in the blink of an eye. 

The wall they had claimed steadily filled with escapees, and once the last man had reached the top, Price pulled back from his firing position. It was time to pull out. This wasn’t the war, it was just a staging area, one that let them see the enemy in action, spot their weaknesses and plan how to use it against them. 

Pointing out the ropes they had entered with, Price barked out his orders, “Down the wall. We are leaving!” 

Repelling down with ease, soldiers streamed over the wall to freedom on the other side. One after another, boots hit the sand, weapons kept at the ready. Until the prison was out of sight, they weren’t clear of danger. 

In the distance, the sky had become a deep indigo blue with the coming morning as a sliver of orange cut across the horizon line. Fire in the sky stretching out, slowly climbing above the mountain ridge. Each fine, tensile ray like the sharp edge of a blade slicing through the darkness that blanketed the land.

Soldiers lined up, waiting at the bottom of the wall for the Captain to arrive – always the first into a foxhole and the last to leave – it was just one of the many things that he did that commanded the respect of his team. The reminder that there were still those that held some sort of honor in a world full of liars, cheaters, and traitors. People desperate for strength, power… control. Things that seemed to seep from Price’s very pores, exuding from him – a born leader. They trusted him to have their backs, to not leave them behind and he had never failed in that duty.

Uncoupling himself from the rope upon making landfall, Price’s heavy brow furrowed as he looked out towards the horizon. With a command, the group split into two, retreating into the safe confines of the vehicles there to extract them with the same rush as a holiday crowd through an airport. 

Climbing into the passenger seat up front, Rory took her spot beside Gaz behind the wheel. The vehicle rumbled forward, his hands steady at ten and two, following Alejandro in the other van as they were led to safe harbor where they could amass for the next front. The mission had become more than just a search for missiles – another end of the western world threat – the lives of their own had been made into fodder so others didn’t have to face the consequences.

Glancing over at Garrick, the rising streak of sunbeam blazed like a molten core amongst umber as he watched the road ahead, the fierceness having grown behind his eyes since the first time she had met him. His stare was now as focused and piercing as the Captain’s. Coming into his own, it was a remarkable thing to witness. He was as much a soldier as the rest of them were, the war they were about to face just as personal to him. 

Tight jaws, scowls, and narrowed eyes abounded in the vehicle. The electric buzz of anger rolling like a charged current around them. Would have been easier if they just came clean to start with, if they hadn’t been sent on a wild goose chase, she thought, eyes fixed on the rear lights of the vehicle in front of them. Tidying messes was something she had gotten used to in her career – the dustpan and broom of colonial powers – but it was the sheer hubris behind Shepherd’s actions that annoyed her most. A man who had grown far too used to thinking himself above it all, the untouchable, as if the law and truth held no sway over him. That he was incapable of being punished for the things he felt he had a right to do because he was under some false impression he knew what was best. 

A reflexive twitch shot through her, fingers curling into a fist on the armrest of her seat. She had come face to face with men like that before, seen the monstrous things they were capable of. Men who deemed themselves worthy of the power they had amassed. Violent means were an easy tool for them to cling to, the lives of others meant little in the path of their own personal crusade. For greed, for dominance… for trying to do a little good in a world of bad. Her eyes lifted to the rear-view mirror and landed on the back of John’s head before meeting her own reflection glancing back at her. 

Fuck, need a cigarette. Anything to ignore the hypocrisy that swirled in her thoughts, jaws of razor sharp teeth that lay in wait, ones she still tried to pretend weren’t there despite claiming the opposite. 

“Shepherd burned us.” 

Ghost’s rasping voice filled the back of the van, contempt rife in every word, drawing her back into the here and now, tearing her from the inside of her head before she was dragged down into the bog of things she buried deep. 

“He sent Graves and his Shadows to kill us and round up Los Vaqueros.”

“We know why.”

“The missiles,” Rory started, filling in the void Price had left behind, looking back over her shoulder at the two hulking squad mates they had just saved. “The ones you found. They weren’t supposed to be out in the wild. It was a mistake. One Shepherd and Graves are both at fault for. You lads and Los Vaqueros just happened to be the unlucky recipients of their efforts at trying to bury it.”

“Bury it?” Soap snarled, dark brows knitting with the deep set furrow between them. 

She nodded, her eyes flitting to Price, noting the rigid lines of his shoulders. He was stewing in silent rage. She could only imagine the thoughts brewing behind the eyes that gave nothing away, a placid surface hiding jagged points of ice and cruel riptides. “And you weren’t the only ones,” she added, glancing over at Soap. “You were right about how I should still have been in Africa. The mission I’d been on, the one to collect Botha, ties right back into this. Hassan had come to him first to transport the missiles to America. Had information that could have saved us a lot of trouble.” Rory turned back to face the road they drove on, her voice a low murmur of regret, “He ended up dead because of it.”

“Steamin’ Jesus. What the hell is Shepherd doin’?”

“He’s like most at the top, Johnny.” Ghost sat stiff against his seat, his mass locked down and only his head on a swivel. “Ready to drop ya at a moment’s notice t’ keep ‘imself in power.”

If Shepherd thought this was the best course of action to clean up his mistake, he had been dead wrong. He’d only gone and made things impossible for himself, gaining the ire of a whole squad of soldiers who had done all manner of questionable things in their careers in order to meet the successful end of a mission. A foolish thing, indeed. It wasn’t like they hadn’t all come with their own reputations when he had backed the creation of the taskforce. A captain who had been sent into brutal conflicts all over the planet, making the tough decisions no one else wanted to, ruthless in his endeavors, a man only an absolute numpty would want to make an enemy of. Two lieutenants who had both been through their own versions of hell, facing torture and pain, who knew what was necessary to survive at all costs. And two sergeants, while young, full of piss and vinegar, and not yet quite as cynical as their veteran leaders, were treading the same path into the bowels of the dark parts of the world few others ever saw. 

Shepherd was in for one hell of a reckoning.

“That’s why we’re going to take him and Graves out of the picture,” Price husked, his head angling sharply to the side. “Get rid of a problem before it gets worse.” His glare darkened, the cold machine of a soldier ever present in those bottomless steely blue eyes. “Then we focus on Hassan.”

[sleepyfan-blog]

First Meetings

Author’s Note: Author’s Note: This is the next part of the Raised on Terra AU! First. Previous. Next. A big thanks to @plagueparchments, @undeaddream, @kit-williams and @bleedingichorhearts for allowing me to borrow their OCs for this fic!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @sharenadraculea @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan 

Warnings: swearing, verbal threats

Summary: The newly assigned caretakers to the Primarchs meet their charges for the first time, and each other. 

“So… These are the Primarchs, huh? I wasn’t expecting them to be so little.” Baphomet hummed as she leaned over one side of the bassinet holding one of her newly assigned charges. Nine peered up at her with sanguine eyes as he flared his oversized, fledgling-down wings up at her “Good morning to you too, ya little shit.” She cooed at the fussy little primarch. She grinned as she reached down and ran a finger across the infant general’s puffed-out wings.

He issued and bapped her finger with his wings, wiggling from side to side, trying to evade her touch.

“Aww, I’m sure that we’ll get along sooner or later, little buddy. Unless your liege lord or Valdor decides otherwise, you’re stuck with me until you’re big and old enough for martial training, fluffy.” Baphomet informed the tiny, tetchy Primarch. She booped his little nose and he started to gum the offending finger, occasionally letting out little hissing sounds.

“Please stop winding up Nine, we are supposed to be caring for them, not distressing them.” Adonis gently admonished, having slowly placed a single hand into Sixteen’s bassinet, allowing the naturally curious and generally friendly-natured little Primarch to get used to this new person in his life. 

Sixteen slowly wriggled towards Adonis’ offered hand, tiny fingers gently wrapping around the Aquilan Shield’s thumb and squeezing a little. “Bah?” The infant general babbled, staring up at him with curious eyes. 

Apollo frowned as he looked over at one of the vents that kept the atmosphere in this room at the optimal conditions. There were odd whistling and clicking sounds growing louder from the vent closest to Eight, picking up the sleeping infant general with one hand, tucking him into his chest, a low warning rumbling from the Dread Spear as he moved into a defensive position “Who or whatever is in the vent, state your business as to why you are there and either continue to do it silently or leave. This room is strictly off limits to everyone who does not have the personal seal of the Emperor’s Approval to be here. Your execution will be slow and graphic.” 

“Careful of your language.” Almach murmured, the powerful Blank narrowing his eyes at the Dread Spear Custodian, having already picked up Primarch Eleven and rocked the younger being into a peaceful slumber, with Eleven’s head pressed against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

“I have not sworn once, and mind how you speak to me. We may be part of the same team, but I far outrank you.” Apollo huffed, glowering down at the dark haired Blank for a moment before focusing on the potential threat to the end-results of one of the projects that His Majesty had been working on the most intensely for ten centuries. 

There was a series of binaric chirps and clicks, which was quickly translated into [Greetings! This one is called VM-3507 or Tiny for short. I have been assigned to this project by the Captain General Himself, to care for Primarchs Four, Seven, Ten and Eighteen. I heard a slight miscalibration in the aeration filtration system and went to investigate and fix it. The minor malfunction has been repaired.] 

The martian tech priest scuttled out of the vents, unfolding into a larger form, shaking off imaginary dust from their long robes and clicking their way over to where Eighteen was currently laying on his back and patted the infant lightly on the head.

Eighteen wiggled a little before smiling and laughing in response to the touch.

Apollo’s eyes narrowed a little, before he huffed and held Eight a little closer to his chest, looking down as he felt a dampness on his shirt start to grow. The little Primarch had latched onto his shirt with his tiny, clawed hands and was sucking onto a small wrinkle of fabric. The Dread Spear rolled his eyes and grumbled “Hungry again, I see. Well then, let’s get you some warmed formula.” And stalked over to where the formula was stored, pouring a measure of it into a bottle, double-checking that it was the correct temperature before pressing the artificial nipple on the bottle to Eight’s lips.

“You all… Are very noisy.” Zedkiel murmured, holding Nineteen close to his chest, the terran-born Astartes staring down at his tiny Primarch with a mixture of awe and soul-deep protectiveness. He was keenly aware of the fact that if there was so much as a whisper spread amongst his brothers to be able to have a hand in raising and training their primarch when he was so young and vulnerable, there was no one they wouldn’t kill, maim or slaughter for the privilege. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d been given such a weighty and wonderful responsibility by the Captain General of the Custodes. He’d thought that the rearing of the Primarchs would be a duty done solely by the Custodes… Though given that half of the caretakers were Custodes, perhaps they’d been brought in to broaden the little Primarchs’ initial exposure to different kinds of peoples. 

Almach rolled his eyes, still rocking a sleeping Eleven slowly back and forth “Not all of us are noisy.”

One woke up when the adult Blank walked by his crib, rolled so that he was on his belly and began hissing at Almach, his bright green eyes almost glowing in the light.

His hissing woke up Six, who snuffled in his crib before starting to whimper and whuffle in distress at all the new scents around him, burying himself further into his nest of blankets. 

The emotional distress from two of his brothers immediately woke up twelve from his doze, who promptly began wailing at the top of all three of his lungs. 

Apollo sighed as Eight finished eating. He patted the little Primarch on his back, just in case he swallowed down any air for several seconds before setting him down and going over to pick up Six as gently as he’d been sternly informed that infants needed to be handled. He roughly began rocking the fussing Primarch with an irritated “Hey. Shh. Calm. Calm down you little sh-... Infant. No need for tears and crying. We are here to protect and care for you. Stop. Crying!” 

Hopefully the Primarchs would be able to better take direction, once they were out of infancy. Because Six wasn’t at all listening to Apollo as his whuffles turned into full-blown howls of distress as he was picked up, desperately clawing at Apollo’s chest, trying to wiggle his way to freedom.

“You don’t want to be dropped. My new training tells me that dropping you from this height would injure you quite a bit… And though you were designed for faster than normal heal-... You know what? Maybe dropping you is a good idea. Our Creator wove fail-safes within your DNA to ensure that you would grow faster in response to perceived dang-”

There were several sharp clicks and whistles as the Martian Tech Priest all but teleported over to Apollo and dared to swipe Six from his grasp in one fluid movement as one of it’s other hands grabbed Six’s favored stuffed animal, a dark grey and white canid, wiggling it just out of Six’s reach. 

Six sniffled and shuffled a little, before trying to reach out and grab the toy.

The martian priest held it just out of Six’s reach for several more seconds before allowing the infant primarch to hold and cuddle the toy. VM-3507 gently placed both the little primarch and the toy down and stared up at Apollo and clicked out [Omnisiah commands we care for and raise infants. Deliberate harm at this stage causes emotional delays and harm that are life-long. Your breach of duty has been reported to the captain-general.]

“Wh… What the fuck, ‘Polly?” Baphomet spluttered, glaring at Apollo far too judgmentally for the Dread Spear’s taste. “We’re supposed to care for the little buggers, not threaten to half-kill ‘em. Even with how carpeted this floor is, a drop for your giant-ass height would break at least one of their teeny tiny bones and take weeks to heal. Do you wanna explain how one of his generals got hurt on your first day in charge of caring for him?”

“You… You do remember his majesty’s temper and mood when it comes to potential delays in the progress of the Primarch Project, yes?” Adonis added in, voice mild and quiet. 

“I wasn’t.. I wasn’t actually going to drop Six! It was… My mouth got ahead of me in a moment of frustration is all.” Apollo huffed, turning to check on one of his charges. He startles, having not realized that the only Blank on the Caretaker team had set down Eleven and made his way over to where he had been standing, glowering darkly up at him. “... Why are you so close to me?”

“Proving a point. You Custodes are deadly warriors, yes. But you are not the only ones who are deadly and quick when need be.” Almach growled, glaring threateningly up at the oversized golden bastard “My expertise in battle lies in Guerrilla warfare. I have slaughtered hundreds of men and witches in the name of the Emperor, and by all that I hold dear… If you prove to be a threat to any of these blessed infants I will strike you down myself and no one will ever be able to find your body. Do you understand. Sir?”

Apollo leaned away from the fuming Blank, arching a brow at him. “While I am certain you are a deadly warrior with few peers… First, I have no intent on harming any of the Primarchs unless expressly ordered to do so in order to encourage their growth… And two, I somehow doubt that you would be able to overcome me in one on one combat. Even with your particular… Traits as a Blank.”

 During the arguing, Zedkiel had quietly placed his infant primarch in one of the many available baby slings after securing it to his chest. He then grabbed two more, grateful that his astartes-sized chest allowed him to carry multiple infants safely as he picked up Twenty-A and Twenty-O, making sure to place the twins in the slings next to each other, to help keep them quiet. He then stealthed over to where Thirteen was quietly watching and listening, blue eyes wide.

Thirteen made a small burbling sound as the Raven Guard picked him up, befores settling down quietly, turning to look at Nineteen, who he was placed in a sling next to. Thirteen slowly reached out and poked one of Nineteen’s cheeks.

Nineteen tilted his head a little and poked Thirteen back in the chest with a tiny giggle.

Zedkiel had no desire to deal with squabbling Custodes, and neither should his charges. As long as he didn’t leave the wing of the Imperial Palace where the Primarchs were located, he could go wherever he liked with them.

[sevendeadlywhispers]

7Seals

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Chapter 5*

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• Previous Chapter: Chapter Four Next Chapter: Chapter Six

• New chapters every Thursday •Content: Levi Ackerman x OC female. Slow Burn! Canon verse!

• Word Count: 1.6k • Warning: This content may not be suitable for all readers. If you've watched all of AOT then you will understand that the show handles heavy subjects such as abuse, racism, violence, and other heavy subjects. This fanfiction will also have the same heavy themes. Chapters with heavy themes will be marked with * at each chapter.

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The air in Alexander's quarters hung heavy, once again I felt like an uninvited guest. His desk, cluttered with maps and scouting reports, he sat there staring at it all not saying a word to me. As I stood there, the room felt smaller, suffocating under the weight of unsaid words. It was time I finally stood up for myself.

"So, are you going to ignore me or are we going to talk about it like adults?" I finally broke the tense silence, eyes fixed on Alexander, who sat at his desk, avoiding my gaze.

"What is there to talk about, Iris?" he replied, finally looking up at me. His eyes, once warm, now held a cold distance.

"Oh, I don't know," I retorted sarcastically. "Maybe all the crap you said yesterday in Erwin's office?"

"Everything I said was true. I don't know what else you want me to say," Alexander stated, his tone unyielding.

"Maybe congratulations? Can't you be proud of me?" I shot back, frustration seeping into my voice.

"Proud?" He laughed bitterly. "Why would I be proud? If anything, I'm disappointed in you. I'm the best captain you will ever have. You're going to die by his side just for some title."

"You're just envious it's not you," I accused, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Like I'd want to work under that idiot," Alexander retorted, his bitterness palpable.

"Why are you so bitter?" I cried out, my emotions getting the best of me. "You've been so uptight the moment he entered the regiment."

"I'm keeping my guard up. Why should I trust a thug?" Alexander defended, his walls firmly in place.

"He's not a bad guy, Alexander. If you just took a moment out of your day to talk to him like he's a human being, you'll see," I pleaded, hoping to break through the barriers he had built.

"Oh, and when did you find the time to have a heart-to-heart with him? Sneaking out with that little rat when I'm not around?" Alexander accused, getting uncomfortably close.

"Don't you dare lie to me. I know you guys were together the day the wall fell."

"What? You have people spying on me now?" I scoffed. "I showed him around town. I treated him like a human because none of you will. That's all."

"So, you are cheating on me with that rat," Alexander laughed bitterly. "How embarrassing."

I rolled my eyes at his extreme accusation.

"You know what, Alexander?" I retorted. "You're embarrassing. Treating someone like they're scum, like you're better than them."

"You're not denying that you cheated on me," he argued.

"I'm not doing this with you right now," I said, attempting to walk away. However, he grabbed my wrist, yanking me back towards him. The painful grip on my wrist made my irritation flare.

"Iris, we need to talk about this, remember?" he demanded, his eyes searching for any sign of guilt in mine. It was like he was mocking me.

"No, we don't," I replied, trying to pull away. His grip tightened, and I winced, the physical pain mirroring the emotional turmoil.

"Stop avoiding the truth, Iris," he insisted, frustration clouding his expression. But I couldn't handle this now; the accusations, the hurtful words—he was pushing me too far.

"I shoulda known, you do have a thing for superiors."

"Let go of me, Alexander," I asserted, my tone firm. But he held on, and the tension in the room escalated, the air thick with unresolved issues.

"I didn't say you could go anywhere," he said, forcefully pulling me closer, his grip on my wrist unyielding.

"Let go, Alexander," I insisted, attempting to retrieve my arm, but his hold only tightened.

"You tell me right now." His voice, once firm, escalated in volume. "Did you cheat on me?"

His eyes darkened, and he inched closer, the anger palpable in the air.

"Alexander," I pleaded, meeting his angered gaze. "You know I would never do that."

Feeling small under his towering presence, his eyes bore into mine with undisguised disgust. His anger radiated through my wrist, a painful reminder of his grip.

"You fucking whore," he spat at me, the words hitting like a physical blow.

Tears swelled in my eyes as he regarded me with disdain. I couldn't speak, couldn't move. This feeling was all too familiar.

"Hey! You guys in there?" A voice interrupted from the other side of Alexander's door.

"Levi's looking for Iris!" Hange's voice rang out after a few knocks.

"Yeah, she's with me. She'll just be a second," Alexander called out with a sudden calmness, a stark contrast to his recent anger. But just as quickly, he reverted to being mad at me.

His voice lowered, and his grip tightened even more than I thought was possible.

"Dry those tears," he growled. "Lover boy is waiting for you."

He dropped my wrist, and I continued to stare at him. Locking eyes, I wiped away my tears and left his room without a word.

"Finally!" Hange exclaimed as I stepped out. "Levi and I have been looking for you all over." They rambled on, but their words were distant echoes in my mind.

I couldn't focus on anything Hange was saying. My thoughts lingered on what had transpired in Alexander's room.

"Hey, you!" Hange snapped their fingers in my face. "Why weren't you guys at breakfast?"

"Well," I started, attempting to find the right words.

"Oh!" Hange's voice squeaked. "I get it. You guys needed some alone time, huh?" They nudged me playfully, winking to imply more than I cared to entertain.

"Yeah, sure," I laughed it off, not in the mood for Hange's teasing or having to explain myself. No one needs to know.

"Well, Levi has been looking for you all morning. He's out in the barn cleaning equipment. I'd hurry if I were you," Hange advised.

"Yeah, thanks," I mumbled, feeling defeated.

"Also, find a good excuse to tell Levi why you're late!" Hange yelled after me as I walked away. I threw a thumbs up without turning back, my mind still clouded with the turmoil from Alexander's room.

The walk from the mess hall to the barn felt like a journey through the corridors of my own doubts. The emptiness around me mirrored the void Alexander's emotions had created. He, my supposed confidant, had become my biggest adversary.

"Your late for training, Aldridge," Levi's flat voice cut through my thoughts, making me jump. Another man's stern eyes replaced the lingering anger in my mind.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize the time," I replied, unable to meet Levi's gaze. Another set of emotionless eyes felt like too much to bear.

"After every breakfast, I expect you to be in the barn," Levi stated coldly, his tone cutting through the air.

I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes as he spoke. The weight of judgment, both from him and Alexander, pressed upon me.

"Get ready to spar on the training field," Levi ordered. I nodded, taking off my coat and rolling up my sleeves.

"Tch," I heard from behind me.

"What?" I turned to Levi, confused.

"Disgusting," Levi muttered, picking up my coat and throwing it at me. "Hang it up properly."

"Oh, right," I mumbled, taking my coat and hanging it beside Levi's on the wall. As I followed him to the training field, the weight of training felt heavier than usual.

On the field, the new recruits ran through their paces under Shadis's watchful eye. Nothing had changed with that man. He remained an ever-present figure, an unwavering observer of our struggles.

I felt a firm grip on my wrist, followed by a force that shoved me face-first into the dirt. The ground met my face, covering it in a layer of dust. Levi's presence loomed over me, an unyielding force.

"You would be dead right now if I was a real attacker. Pay attention," Levi's voice cut through my disorientation, his words echoing in my ear. I winced at the pain radiating from my wrist, but I refused to let it consume me.

Levi released his grip, allowing me to pick myself up, determination flickering in my eyes. Before I could ready myself for a counterattack, another strike found its mark. My feet were swept from beneath me, and I crashed back to the ground, gazing up at Levi.

"Get up," he commanded, his voice sharp. "Fight me again. We aren't stopping until you pin me."

The challenge hung in the air, and I pushed myself off the ground, fueled by a relentless determination. I don't need another man doubting me. Levi hand picked me for some reason right? Or was it actually Erwin who picked me?

Why was I even picked? I can't fight, Alexander's right. I'm going to dead as soon as we step outside those walls. The only reason why I'm alive is because of Alex.

I felt my body lunge forward as I attacked the Levi with a ferocity that surprised even herself. Each strike was a release of the frustration and hurt. My wrist burned more but my mind just kept wandering.

Alexander is a petty man, just how long is he going to be mad? Will I have to leave the squad for him to forgive me? It was something I was scared to face. I fight titans for a living yet I'm scared of the man I love.

"You're wasting energy," Levi remarked, as he pinned me to the ground once again.

"A distracted soldier is a dead one. Clear your mind or you'll end up proving that shit bag right."

"My mind is clear, Levi." I said pushing myself off the ground.

"It's Captain." Levi's expression remained impassive.

"I wanted capable soldiers, not ones blinded by personal issues. Get your head straight, or you won't last long."

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[argentior]

Headshots of the apathy adoring guys.

Sketch ver

apathy adoring is a self-indulgent rewrite of redo of healer that is probably at least a little influenced by the way too many manhwa/manga with dubious relationships I've read. Which is to say for some reason I looked at Redo of Healer and thought "I can make a messed-up Josei story out of this" and ended up doing it. Still has dark themes though so like. Careful before you click.

Anyway. Notes on the guys as of Ch 11 and general apathy adoring notes/spoilerish recap if anyone cares to read that I suppose. Random summary stuff and fun facts.

The Boy | Keyaru

Protagonist of Redo of Healer. The premise of that thing is that this guy at 14 years old was abused physically and sexually for 2 years because his semen can raise the level cap of others. It be one of those magic with numbers and a limited slot of skills fantasy worlds. He goes back in time and carries out a long rape revenge seinen fantasy thing. I did not like that. I don't know why the fic got into my brain so much.

Still out for revenge in the fanfic. He ran away from Alban and managed to eat a couple more poisonous plants and fungi relative to canon before he was caught this time, so his immunity to drugs and poison kicked in sooner.

Was still caught, healed Kureha, allows himself to be abused for the revenge plan, that whole deal.

Interested in the maid because of previous timeline memories. Infatuated by the Maid/reader in this current timeline due to the chain of events that occurred that resulted in more interactions. (Came in later, she was assigned to clean him up, and it just went on and on)

A notable differences from the source material includes him playing along and "getting better" at healing publicly so he gets to stay out of the dungeon some days. I was getting tired of writing scenes in the dungeon.

Has introduced himself to the Maid/reader character. So she knows his name. She just refuses to acknowledge it.

The weirdest thing he's done in the story so far: used healing magic to kind of transform his hand into being like the Maid's wounded one and kissed it.

Main aim when writing him: Pitiful enough to make you help but there's something wrong with him that makes you regret it. Or maybe you're just being paranoid.

The Knight | Bako

Appears in the light novel/manga and is killed shortly after. Was used by Keyaru and his group because Bako was the "most sane of the knights" whatever that means. In the novel it was murder after his aid because he was involved in the attack on Keyaru's village and could have spread knowledge of Keyaru's party, in the manga it was because he attacked Keyaru's group in revenge for killing Renard. Renard had taken him in. He's vice captain of Princess Flare (first/main abuser of Keyaru)'s knights.

In the fic he's a coward who is aware of Renard's atrocities but is too attached to his father figure to really do anything about it.

Infatuated with the maid due to projecting. He is very aware of what the kingdom does to the boy in the dungeon but you know. Coward.

Savior Complex.

I hate his hair why are you so spiky.

Has no colored version in the manga. Was that insignificant. Chose blond hair for the "knight in shining armor pretty gold good and righteous" imagery and steel blue eyes and something dull and different from the red eyes of the other guys. Also. Similar to Renard.

Main aim when writing him: physically strong/imposing but kind of pathetic if you're not in a fight-or-flight headspace.

Yukito | Harris | The Rabbit

An oc I made to balance out the cast. What's a josei without 3 guys amirite haha

No but like sincerely. A character to balance out whatever freak stuff is happening with the other two. Also probably delves into the idea of free will and consent somewhat.

Is a rabbit demi-human (basically a rabbit boy). Escaped slave, gave his "true name" to the Maid/Reader after they met by chance, which by source material lore means that he is bound to her mind and heart, body and soul. She is Not Happy about this.

Has chopped his ears and tail off and is blending in as the "human" Harris surprisingly well. Being albino tends to answer the question of why he hides his face for most people.

Main aim when writing him: a decent, sweet person in unfortunate circumstances. Kind of the physical manifestation of the idea of running away, which even if possible the maid thinks of too much of a dream than actual choice.

Bonus

The Maid | The Reader

Low level low magic horrible stats. Instead of being a competent warrior like the other staff in the palace, she is just good at cleaning.

Very tired, very paranoid. Violent intrusive thoughts.

Wary of all the boys. No attraction to any of them lol.

But if pressed. And had to stick to any of them. It would be Yukito.

[artstar1997]

I was influenced by superheroes at the young age. The first one I was inspired by was DC because I used to watch the old Batman animated series, also the Justice League animated series. Marvel also got into my inspiration manifestation later when I watched Avengers with my family and I usually root for the good guys, especially Thor, who is a total hunk. These references made me think of making a Trolls Superhero AU, which is composed of OCs and Canon characters. Now, let’s meet the terrific trio themselves, Queen Rose as Captain Sterling, Queen Poppy as Rainbow Girl, and Branch as the mysterious Psionyx.

Captain Sterling Real Name: Rosita “Rosetta” Barbara V. Madrigal Alias: Titanium Queen, Leap of Faith, Lil’ Ace Superpowers: Invulnerability, Flight, Super Strength, Super Speed, Heat Vision (including Solar Flare), Super Hearing, Super Vision (including X-ray Vision, microscopic vision, and telescopic vision, overuse causes headaches), Super Breath (including Ice Breath), Accelerated Healing, Energy Manipulation (it includes absorption and generation), Partial alien physiology, Martial Arts, Indomitable Will Archenemy: Evelyn Ford a.k.a Velvet (based on Lex Luthor) Inspiration: Superman, Captain Marvel

Rainbow Girl Real Name: Penelope “Poppy” Monteiro Alias: Sunshine B.B., Bubblegum Chick, Prismatic Queen Superpowers: Flight, Sound Conversion, Light Generation, Iriskinesis via Lumokinesis and Chromakinesis, Chromo-Egrokinesis, Energy Manipulation, Enhance Strength and Durability, Healing, Martial Arts, Indomitable Will Archenemy: Pacifica “Pushy Poppy” a.k.a Drab Grey Inspiration: Dazzler, Karolina Dean

Psionyx Real Name: Bernardo “Branch” Huitzilopochtli Ramon Rivera Alias: The Psychic Onyx, Superpowers: Telepathy, Telekinesis, Psychic powers, Indomitable Will, Intimidation, Interrogation, Peak Human Conditioning, Martial Arts Master, Weapons Master, Genius Level Intellect, Peak Human Strength, Superhuman Agility Archenemy: Carl “Creek” Evans a.k.a Monkshood (based on Poison Ivy but his color scheme is more similar to the Joker, Green Goblin, and Skeletor) Inspiration: Batman, Jean Grey a.k.a Phoenix

I’m planning to make a team for them called the Justice Brigade, which will serve as the leading team for all the super teams because it is based on the main Justice League but I dunno who can I pick for their team. As for Guy Diamond and Meadow Sprigg’s team, the Sylvan Guardians (composed of them, along with Tiny Diamond, Holly Darlin’, Val Thundershock, and Lownote Jones), they’ll retain their animal theme. Let me know if you have suggestions for the Terrific Trio’s teammates.