#or near death incidents

[bibuckeroo]

Please can we be soft with him for a while

I need to study him under a microscope. And then wrap him in a blanket.

[gemgdynamight0]

Katsuki and his childhood

All happened in first year of high school and the beginning of second year.

Just listing some trauma Katsuki went through. I really hate it when his haters or even some"fans" say "bakugou had no reason to be traumatized""he has no trauma "" he has no problem in his life" like stfu I even might have missed sth here.

Also never forget, the torture before his death was so intense bones had to censore it

[earthbovndmisfit]

something something Phantom Blood ending where all is good and well afterwards 🌈️✨️

[dnpfix]

Whoever made that post about them doing muckbangs after a harrowing experience... you didn't know how right you were

[clown-eating-pig]

S1 Jon squinting all the time to disguise the fact that he has big beautiful brown cow eyes.

[theotherbuckley]

I know we say it a lot but a lot of our “I can’t believe Buck and Eddie can’t see what’s right in front on them” moments are the near death experiences. And it’s like we see how much they love each other. We see Buck clawing at the ground and screaming for Eddie so bad that he has to be pulled away by Bobby. We see how Buck needs to be pulled to the ground by Mehta because in that moment Buck can’t think about anything other than the fact that Eddie just got shot in front of him. We see Buck rolling under the truck to save Eddie despite being crushed by one just to save him. We see Eddie screaming for Buck and trying to lift his dead weight before resigning to lowering him. We see Eddie yell “do more”. We see it. But they don’t.

They feel all that grief but they don’t know the other one does too. Most of the time the other gets better and then they pretend that nothing happened or they dive into another relationship and run away. They don’t talk about how it felt to be the one watching (because it’s “not their trauma”).

I want one of them to see the footage of one of these incidents. I want Eddie to see Buck clawing at the ground or pulling him under the truck. I want one of them to see the other break and go:

Oh. I love you too.

[landgraabbed]

ewan brought pizza from work & leon managed to fix babygirl! love that leon's like yeah they're such close friends, how wonderful!

[asurrogateblog]

I’m starting to genuinely believe they had real-life plot armor

[rottisms]

jeon hyejin, was it? welcome to the safe zone. it says here you’re a 28 year-old firefighter? just verifying. according to the others, you’re both responsible and impulsive. but, that photograph of your family from when you were little? keep it to yourself. guard it. things will blow over soon and you can go back to camping.

TW // mentions of bullying & mentions of near death incidents

born to a militant dad and a semi-affectionate mom, hyejin didn't have the typical childhood that some would deem more normal than others. children that were born to parents addicted to social media, she was cut from technology to spend her time in the woods with her dad, uncle, or grandpa and sometimes her mom too. the trio made camping a priority often to escape the mundane routine of their apartment to have fun in the woods - being able to hunt down their own food or go fishing was the fun part to that. she learned tons of survival lessons thanks to them, though looking back at it now, she wasn't so appreciative as she was right now.

there were a few incidents where she could've almost been wiped from this earth. from falling into a river to be saved by her grandpa when she was younger, to almost slipping on a steep rock wall to be caught by her dad, or even stumbling to end up holding on for dear life as she screamed for help from the cliff's edge of a mountain ridge until her parents came rushing to save her. many close calls taught her to be more aware of her surroundings in her younger years - but those were some scary times in her defense.

full name: jeon hyejin nicknames: jinnie, jinjin, hyeju, hyebby, jin bean date of birth: december 27th, 1999 birth chart: capricorn sun, leo moon, and virgo rising hometown: daegu, south korea gender: ciswoman pronouns: she / her sexual orientation: sapphic / lesbian martial status: in a relationship / exclusively with sohee occupation: firefighter languages: english, korean, small bits of japanese love languages: acts of service, physical touch, and quality time

moving from daegu to gwangju at the start of middle school wasn't the greatest move on her parents part, but they had to move closer to take care of her grandparents in their later years. being the new kid pretty much sicked - she had an accent, she didn't know anyone, and the kids in middle school were honestly the worst in that first year. the kids teased her for everything ; but not all was lost as she managed to find a small group of friends - though the bullying didn't just disappear. it taught her how to be tough though, but you can tell it left some scars

despite everything that happened, she wasn't someone who bragged about their past, as she was the kind of person to just get things done and doesn't make such a big deal about it. she moved across the country to study for marine biology in oregon after graduating high school. though becoming overwhelmed by the lessons and everything is where she switched her major to get her associate in fire science - eventually then moving to washington to finish out her second year. she joined the local fire department and does travel back and forth to south korea at times to visit her family and friends.

positive traits: responsible, resilient, resourceful, protective, loyal, adaptable negative traits: impulsive, stubborn, overly independent, self-critical likes: helping others get out of trouble, puzzle-solving games, hunting for small game, late night walks, ice cream even in cold weather, tteokbokki, chill acoustic playlists, quite bookshops, camping beneath the starry skies, warm bonfires on a chilly night, fairy lights or solar lanterns, cozy sweaters or hoodies when they are home, the smell of fresh coffee in the morning, grape soda, warm bread to enjoy with some butter, grilling fish over a campfire to enjoy for dinner, hiking through the woods, rainstorms / thunderstorms, enjoying burgers on movie nightsdislikes: dark chocolate, carbonated water, awkward small talks, messy environments, uncomfortable clothing ( itchy fabric ), fireworks, waking up too early, losing something important, something happening to sohee in any compacity, extreme heat or humidity, dishonesty, horror movies that don't make any sense, drinking low grade matcha, wearing bracelets since they can be annoying to her unless it's pretty thin, okra water, soggy bread, doesn't like to feel misunderstood or having her intentions questioned, unnecessary drama fears: tornados, earthquakes, eye + ear trauma, cetaphobia, thalassophobia

she met sohee in south korea during christmas week and they hit it off really well. hyejin remained there for the three weeks to celebrate christmas and seollal, known as the lunar new year. she was there for the last two weeks of december and under the first week of february. when she had to head back, the two were pretty sad at first, but there was nothing she wasn't willing to try for this woman before her. long distance relationships can be brutal for some, but these two made it work for them due to their work schedules by resorting to text messages, voice notes, selfies and photographs, even down to making time for each other when they could to hang out on facetime. their relationship has remained a secret for the last three years since sohee is a famous actress, and most would only hear of stories about her without every actually seeing a picture of her from hyejin. most of her coworkers believed that the gf was made up at this point. despite the last two weeks of the warnings with the epidemic, and their failed attempts to try and visit each other beforehand, nothing was going to stop each other from finally being able to meet at last and hug onto each other.

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 16: Necrosis

Swamp (pond) + "No, I can't feel anything"

3271 Words; Coleverlord, 7 and 2 years pre-canon

TW for drowning, attempted filicide, near-death experiences, emotional manipulation, repeated use of bugs as symbolism

AO3 ver

“Lilly, what were you thinking?”

The words were spoken in a low hiss, almost inaudible to Cole as he approached the kitchen. He came to stop just before the doorway as his mother’s voice filtered out into the hall.

“That’s not—I’m only doing what I have to.” She said, sounding strained, and Cole shuffled forwards nervously. He leaned around the frame and peered through the doorway.

+=+=+=+=+

The rock overturned, shedding light on the creatures below.

The afternoon sun shone bright overhead, while the soil beneath the mud was soft and damp. Cole stared as a particularly large roly-poly crawled along the underside of the rock. A centipede scurried away from the light to another rock to hide under, and Cole shoved his hand into the dirt—there!

Cole yanked the worm out of the dirt and held it, looking it over as it wriggled. The eight year old left the rock upside-down as he stood to go find his mom, intent on showing her his prize.

+=+=+=+=+

The waiting room smelled vaguely floral, in a way that Cole wasn’t sure was from perfume or cleaning products. There weren’t many other people here besides him and his dad—just another visitor talking quietly with the receptionist.

Cole wasn’t entirely sure why he was even here. It was a weekend, and he had dance practice in two hours, and there wasn’t really much to do here in the waiting room—which added up to one bored thirteen year old. Still, his dad had insisted, and there wasn’t much else Cole could do; it got him out of the house in a way that his lack of friends couldn’t do.

(The garden pond had been empty for years now.)

Eventually, a nurse came along, standing before them with a warm smile. It scrabbled at the back of Cole’s mind, and the nurse twitched before sliding their eyes away from Cole and onto his dad.

“She’s ready for visitors, right this way.”

+=+=+=+=+

She had been acting kind of… different, lately, though Cole couldn’t really pinpoint when the changes started. But it felt like she looked at him less, or kept ending conversations early. She was going on more of her trips, too, and telling him less about her adventures when she got back. It felt… Cole frowned, then shrugged, leaning to look around one of his mom’s prized rose bushes.

(It felt cold, like a whisper in his mind. But when Cole reached out for his mother so she could banish that shadow creeping up his back—

She turned away.)

+=+=+=+=+

Both of his parents were backlit by the setting sun through the window over the sink, casting shadows that reached the door. They moved like a dance—constantly responding to each other, movements made in tandem. Cole had never seen his parents dance like this, though, all tense and angry.

(And he was the cause of that, wasn’t he?)

“By trying to drown our son?!” His dad’s voice was low, trembling, on the verge of spilling out to a yell. Cole had seen his dad upset, and disappointed, and worried before—but never quite like this, never quite so unsteady.

+=+=+=+=+

There she was, kneeling by the pond she had dug a few years ago. She was wearing that sunhat dad had gotten her for her birthday, the one that Cole had helped him pick out, with the shiny fake beetle settled among pretty fake flowers along the band. She was humming, a tune Cole recognized from one of dad’s songs, and Cole grinned.

“Momma, look!” Where a year ago Cole would have run right up to his mom without hesitation, now he approached more carefully.

His mom’s gaze snapped up from the dandelion she had been carefully digging out to him, eyes wide for a moment before they narrowed. “Cole.” She greeted, not unkindly—she hadn’t called him her little Pebble in a while. Cole was sure it was because he was almost nine—his mom must have thought him too old for baby nicknames. She smiled, but made no further movement towards Cole. The dandelion in her hands twisted slightly.

+=+=+=+=+

The halls of the place had the same vaguely floral scent as the waiting room, but with a more chemical undertone. So probably cleaning products. Ants marched a spiral under Cole’s skin, cobwebs at the edge of his vision. The nurse picked up the pace.

Finally, with his dad’s hand on his shoulder, they made it to room 424. The nurse scurried off, and Cole’s dad took the first step through the doorway, to the room beyond.

After a moment, Cole followed, shadows thick around his ankles.

(Cole still hated going out to the garden if he could help it.)

+=+=+=+=+

“Look!” Cole proudly showed off what he had managed to find, opening his hand so his mom could see the worm in full. “That’s another one for the compost bin, right?” He wasn’t sure why it felt like his mom was drifting away, lately, but she was still his mom. She’d always love him—of that he was sure.

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” His mom agreed, then, “but the compost bin has enough worms.” She gripped the stem of the dandelion a little tighter, and added, “Why don’t you put the worm back where you found it? We wouldn’t want it to dry out.”

+=+=+=+=+

“That’s not my son!” His mother argued, gripping the counter with enough force to crack it. “That—that’s not Cole.” She repeated, her whole body wound up like a spring. “That—that thing—can’t you see our son is gone?”

(What had Cole done wrong?)

“Lilly…” Cole watched as his dad reached out, hand ghosting over his mother’s shoulder before retreating. “My love, you’re not well.” He sighed, muttering something Cole didn’t catch.

Cole flinched back as sudden pain spiked in his head. The shadows creeping into the hall seemed to melt, something clawing its way towards his parents. They didn’t notice the motion, didn’t react to the creeping crawling clawing in their shadows—

+=+=+=+=+

“Oh.” Well, it was still a cool worm, so it wasn’t like Cole had really wasted his mom’s time. “Okay.” He turned around to go find that rock, worm in hand. His mom watched him go, and her gaze felt like a shadow scurrying up Cole’s neck.

Cole returned to the rocks to find most of the revealed critters had either gone further into the dirt or under other rocks. Cole hummed as he scraped out a small depression in the soil with his fingers, then he gently set the worm into it. “Eat lots of dirt and keep the soil healthy, okay?” He covered the worm with loose soil, patted it for luck, then slowly reset the rock so that the spot was covered again.

+=+=+=+=+

His mother smiled warmly. She looked different than Cole remembered, much of her strength lost to illness. She also seemed… shorter.

You’ve gotten taller, Vessel.

Oh, yeah that.

Cole glanced at his dad, who nodded towards Cole’s mother. After a moment, Cole approached, something squirming in his chest. His mother opened her mouth to speak—

Only to be cut off by a cough that made her shoulders heave and shake. Cole’s chest itched, a little like a burn but not quite.

How far the mighty have fallen.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole wandered around for a bit, poking at the soil between the rocks and looking for weeds to pull, dirt on his hands and knees getting smeared onto his arms and shins—somehow. It wasn’t like he was trying to get covered in dirt, it just sort of happened. Much to his dad’s chagrin and mom’s amusement—though the last time Cole had unthinkingly tracked mud into the house, his dad fretting and asking him to please go wash his hands before dinner, his mom hadn’t said a thing.

As Cole wandered around, he ended up somewhere behind his mom, who had moved on to inspecting her roses while Cole began to dig at the soil where he was sitting. After digging and covering a few holes, his mom had ended up standing by the pond again, bending down to look at the water while Cole hummed.

+=+=+=+=+

His mother pulled back sharply. “I’m fine.” She said, harsher than Cole had ever heard her talk to his dad.

(Why didn’t his mother want him anymore?)

“Lilly,” His dad was speaking through grit teeth, “I came home to find you drowning Cole in the pond.” He grabbed at her arm. “You’re not well.” His expression softened, for a moment, and he stepped forwards. “My love—”

“Don’t call me that.” Cole’s mother snapped, shadow clawing up her back. Cole’s head pounded.

+=+=+=+=+

“Cole?” His mom’s voice floated over to where Cole was, soft and… nahh, Cole was just imagining that uncertainty. His mom fought dragons; she could never be uncertain!

“Yeah?” Cole asked, looking up from the hole he’d been digging—and then moving to put the soil back real quick before standing up.

“Can you come here?” His mom wasn’t looking at him, instead staring at the water. Cole stared at the floral print of her shirt—old and faded from time; she’d had that shirt for as long as Cole could remember and often wore it when gardening—at the sunlight on her back. It looked much warmer than the shadow he could feel clinging to his—even though the sun was beaming down onto Cole all the same.

+=+=+=+=+

His dad’s hand on his back prompted Cole to shuffle forwards, close enough to the bed for him to see his mother clearly. There was a chair there—one of his dad’s jackets was slung over the back. It was the only chair, but Cole took it at his dad’s prompting.

The shadow in his mind raised Its hackles. Cole stared at his mother—he wasn’t sure what else to do. He hadn’t seen her since…

(rough rock against his shins cold water around his chest and head and arms face pressed into the mud chest burning—)

Shh, hush now.

The memory fled to the back of his mind. Cole shifted in his seat as his mother and dad greeted each other.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole stood as his mom’s words registered. The shadow at his heels hissed, cold around Cole’s ankles. For a moment he felt held in place, before he shook it off. “Yeah, Momma?” He walked over to stand at his mom’s side, a thin line of stones separating him from the pond. “What’d you need?”

One moment he was standing next to the river-smooth rocks lining the edge of the pond, his mother kneeling next to him. And then he was under the pond water, his legs folded under him as a heavy hand pushed him down by his shoulders.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole stumbled back, away from the door and the way his parents were moving together like a dance except wrong, away away away until he was in his bedroom and the kitchen felt like a distant memory.

Light from the setting sun filtered in, hazy through the thin curtains. Cole flicked the light switch, but it did nothing to banish the shadows dancing at the corners of his vision. His head swam, and he swallowed hard.

(What was wrong with him?)

+=+=+=+=+

Cole sputtered, palms smacking against the mud at the bottom of the pond as he tried to push himself out. The hands on his shoulders only pushed harder, impossibly heavy against his back. Cole squirmed, holding his breath as he tried to—to wiggle free, or push himself up—

The mud at the bottom of the pond was very soft, and very slick. Tiny fish scattered away from Cole’s thrashing, and he couldn’t breathe—

Momma where are you come help—

Cole struggled, but the hands on his back pushed down harder, his nose inches away from the mud at the bottom of the pond. Why wasn’t—where was—his mom had just been right there, how was he—

Momma, I’m scared.

+=+=+=+=+

“And how have you been?” It took Cole a moment to realize his mother was talking to him. Something about her words made him uneasy, isopods scuttling around his organs. His dad had stepped out of the room at some point, though Cole had no idea why.

“Fine.” Cole answered, not sure what else to say.

(She’d said he wasn’t his son.)

“That’s… good.” Was his mother getting nervous? Well, that wasn’t unusual—Cole had that effect on people.

(“You’re a freak.” An upended milk carton soaking into his hair and shirt—)

“Are you… doing well in school?” His mother asked. “I…” her lips pursed, “heard you got into a fight.”

“They started it.” Cole responded, pulling his legs up and folding them in front of his chest, resting his chin on his knees. Worms wiggled up his spine. “I finished it.”

(Between talking to classmates and being left alone, Cole preferred being left alone.)

+=+=+=+=+

Cole gasped, water rushing in as he inhaled against his will. He tried to kick his legs, but couldn’t quite manage it with how they had buckled under him. Cold water rushed down his throat, burning into his lungs—

Cole choked. The hands on his back leaked cold shadows that crawled all over his body, whispers slinking around behind his eyes like roly-polys under the rocks. He was too tired to thrash, now, his chest burning burning burning as cold spilled out from his core. The hands on his back pulled back, for a brief moment, then shoved down with such force that Cole’s face was pressed into the mud, cold water crawling up his legs towards his ankles.

Momma, I ‘ m      s c   a      r e d—

.

.

.

The heavy shadows at his back shifted. Cole drifted, not quite aware as something burst into the water and grabbed his shoulders. The new hands yanked, and Cole came up out of the mud and then the water, hair plastered to his forehead.

Cole stumbled backwards, warm arms wrapping around him. Someone was talking, but Cole couldn’t quite hear it through the rushing in his ears and the shadow clawing up his chest and the whispers in his throat. Something inside him seemed to shift—

Cole vomited, hacking up water. His chest burned, muddy pond water dribbling from his lips down his chin onto the rocks before him as he coughed and coughed and coughed.

+=+=+=+=+

His head hurt. The shadows swirled, cascading across his room. It sounded like whispers. It sounded like too many ants marching along, every footstep magnified so that he could hear it. Cole rubbed at his arms, brushed still-damp hair away from his forehead—it wasn’t enough. There was something creeping up his back and arms and neck and chest, something clawing at his ribs from the inside.

Cole stumbled back, legs catching on his bed. He laid there, staring up at the ceiling, at the way the shadows interlaced with the light of the setting sun.

The shadow creeping up his back curled around his shoulders like a blanket made from the twitching legs of a thousand house centipedes. Like a spider, something crawled along the inside of his head as whispers blinked in and out of Cole’s vision.

There is nothing wrong with you, Vessel.

Cole blinked. He glanced around, looking for the source of the voice—

His head wrenched to the side as if pulled by some invisible hand, locking his gaze on the mirror on his closet door.

+=+=+=+=+

The smear of colors that was the world started to resolve itself; Cole’s dad was staring at him, hair ruffled and chest heaving.

Cole’s head hurt. Water had soaked into all of his clothes, cold and heavy. His mom said something sharply behind him, and Cole’s head twisted to look back at her of its own accord.

Her hands were soaked, and her shirt must have been splashed at some point, splattered with wet spots. There was mud on her knees, and her sunhat had fallen off at some point, some of her hair having fallen loose from its bun.

+=+=+=+=+

His mother smiled. It was clearly strained. Cole stared at her, a million ants marching around in his skull. Shadows clung to the walls like cobwebs, slowly dripping down and reaching for his mother. He wondered why his dad had stepped out of the room—was his mother really doing that much better, now that she didn’t have to look at him?

Well. Better being a relative term—she was still sick and slowly dying, but at least she could look at him without wanting to shove him in the nearest body of water.

His mother looked away, her breaths coming in stuttered and shaky. So… not doing better, then.

Of course not. Get away from her, Vessel. She will only bring you to ruin.

His mother grabbed for her panic button, shadows clawing at the bed from all sides. Cole’s head pounded in a distant sort of way, millions of skittering spiders creeping under his skin. He wrapped his arms around his knees, curling up tighter as though it might somehow save him from the crushing pressing in on all sides—

And then his dad’s hand was back on Cole’s shoulder, and Cole was being led out of the room while his mother struggled to breathe through painful-sounding coughs and her own panic. Cole let himself be shuffled down the hall, chest wound tight the entire way to the waiting room.

His dad looked pained. “She had been doing so well…” he mumbled, not quite low enough for Cole not to hear.

Cole grimaced. His head stopped throbbing, the ants and the spiders and the centipedes and the worms and the isopods and the bees and the flies coming to a rest, shadows receding to the very edges of his vision.

It clawed at his brain, hissing reassurance while Cole sat in the waiting room. His dad had gone back, leaving Cole alone except for the receptionist, who was busy with her computer and didn’t really count.

(He preferred to be left alone—though, in truth, Cole was never alone.)

+=+=+=+=+

Cole’s dad gave him one more smack on the back, and Cole coughed up spit and water. His dad’s hands were also wet, but they weren’t heavy against Cole’s back.

Something tickled at the back of Cole’s head. His eyes slipped closed, the world blurring around him as shadows danced across his vision. His parents were—they were saying stuff to each other, but Cole couldn’t make out the words. His father’s tie became a smear of color against his suit.

Cole slumped forwards, shadows filling his vision.

+=+=+=+=+

His eyes looked… funny. Not quite right. There was something fuzzy in Cole’s head, something slithering around inside his skull, leaching out from his eyes to cradle his head. Cole tried to look away, but his head wouldn’t move at all.

(Cold mud against his face and water in his chest—)

Shh, hush now.

The memory retreated back to the eves of Cole’s mind, hidden under crawling shadow as Cole continued to stare at his reflection. The voice in his head crooned, a lilting melody filling Cole’s ears.

You have done nothing wrong, Vessel.

The voice… it sounded right. It felt like flies buzzing inside his skull, but—

Cole’s head pounded, but the pain was distant, now. The lingering burn in his chest faded, and Cole watched, disinterested, as the shadows in his reflection shifted into a smiling face. His worry melted away.

The sun had set to the point where barely any light was filtering into Cole’s room, now, and he could hardly see his reflection in the gloom. But two glowing points in the mirror grinned at him, shadows carding through still-damp hair.

Cole’s eyes slipped closed, shadows filling his vision.

[zanderbobs]

This is the first game of the Euros I've watched and it's really not helping my weird belief that I'm a bad luck charm

[archietransdrews]

this episode is such a win for the jughead/jason truthers. assuming they're out there

[sananaryon]

i have listened to the Bifrost incident and i will never fucking recover

[gear-station-clerk]

Oh, no one's probably going to believe me...

Alright, ripping off the bandage. When I was 16, I almost got killed by Kyurem in the Giant Chasm. Ended up with a bad back and hip injury from it.

rotomblr: reblog with the worst injury you’ve ever gotten from a pokémon, wild or domestic

[asurrogateblog]

going outside during a lightning storm to recapture the feeling of listening to yet another movie (live) for the first time

[khioneee]

tap out. pt ii.

warnings. mentions of death, emotional distress, grief and loss, pregnancy.

a few years later, another tap-out ceremony arrives, but this time, the air feels different—heavier, somber. simon’s been gone for over a year, his deployment unexpectedly extended due to an incident overseas. you’d been told he couldn’t come home for a while, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

today, you stand among families who aren’t just here to tap out their loved ones but to say goodbye to those who didn’t make it home. tears stream down faces as loved ones gather around caskets, grieving the soldiers they’d lost. the sight fills you with a mix of dread and relief, knowing simon is still out there, waiting.

simon stands in formation, rigid as always, but he has a sense for you. before you even appear in his line of sight, he knows you’re near. but imagine his surprise when he catches a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision, a small bundle wrapped securely in your arms.

his heart hammers in his chest, quickening as he realizes what this means. his breath catches, his eyes fixed on you as you approach. you look up at him, your eyes sparkling, a knowing smile on your face as you watch the subtle changes in his expression—the slight twitch of his eyebrows, the way his breathing picks up as it dawns on him.

both of you had been trying for a baby before he left, and now, standing before him, you hold that precious life in your arms. it had been a struggle going through pregnancy without him, feeling his absence during every kick and every sleepless night. but seeing him now, looking more than ready to meet your child, all the pain fades away, replaced by a joy so profound it fills every inch of you.

‘daddy’s home,’ you whisper softly, tilting the blanket so simon can see her tiny face, fast asleep, a perfect mirror of him in miniature. she’s got his nose, his quiet strength already etched into her tiny features.

with tears in your eyes, you reach up, your hand finding his cheek, tapping him out in the gentlest of touches.

the moment your hand connects, simon moves, breaking formation as he pulls both of you into his arms, holding you close as if he’ll never let go. his voice is thick with emotion, barely a whisper as he murmurs, ‘my loves.’

you knew your husband had a reputation in the military—a man as cold and unyielding as steel, a fortress no one could break. but as he held you and your newborn in his arms, that carefully built facade cracked, revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you ever saw. the tough soldier was gone, replaced by a man whose heart lay entirely with his family.

‘do you want to hold her?’ you ask softly, watching his eyes light up with a blend of surprise and joy.

‘her?’ he whispers, voice catching on the single word, as if it’s almost too much for him to believe.

you nod, smiling through a haze of happy tears. ‘her.’

with slow, reverent movements, you pass your daughter to him, watching as she looks impossibly tiny cradled in his strong arms. simon looks down at her with a mixture of wonder and fierce protectiveness, as though he’s already memorizing every detail of her face.

as if sensing her father’s gaze, the baby yawns, a soft little sound that makes simon’s eyes shine with awe. you catch the faintest smile pulling at his lips, a rare, tender expression that he reserves only for moments like this.

he leans down, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. ‘never gonna let anything happen to you,’ he murmurs, voice thick with love and quiet promise.

while simon was lost in his quiet moment with your daughter, a loud shout cut through the air, breaking the peaceful silence.

‘is that our baby i see?!’

simon’s head snapped up, his expression immediately shifting to something harder. he turned to see soap grinning widely, practically bouncing with excitement. with a sigh, simon reached over and smacked the back of soap’s head, though his movements were careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in his arms.

‘there’s people grieving, you idiot,’ simon muttered, but soap only snickered, completely unfazed.

‘and what do you mean, ‘our’? she’s y/n’s and mine. you’re not part of this relationship, mate,’ simon added, his tone dripping with mock irritation.

but soap, undeterred, just ignored him and held out his hands, wiggling his fingers in a display of exaggerated excitement. ‘oh, come on! let me hold our child!’

simon groaned, looking down at you with a glance that seemed to ask, ‘do i really have to put up with this?’ but he couldn’t hide the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as soap’s enthusiasm filled the air around you.

reluctantly, and with another sigh, simon finally leaned over, carefully passing your daughter to soap, though not without a low, ‘if you don’t keep her calm, you’re not holding her again.’

soap just grinned, taking her into his arms as if he’d won the lottery, cradling her gently and cooing softly.

soon after, the rest of task force 141 gathered around, drawn by the excitement, each member eager to catch a glimpse of the new addition to the family.

you and simon stood to the side, watching with cautious eyes as they took turns holding her, each one adopting a careful gentleness you wouldn’t have expected from hardened soldiers.

price held her with a proud grin, murmuring something about ‘training her to be the next captain,’ while gaz made her giggle softly with his gentle cooing. even the usually reserved roach softened as he held her, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

you glanced up at simon, watching his face as he stood beside you, arms crossed in a show of casual indifference.

but you knew him too well. beneath the mask of stoicism, there was something warmer, a subtle softness in his gaze as he watched his team, his family, sharing this moment with him. this gruff, unbreakable soldier, who had once thought he’d lost everything, had found a new family among them, one that shared in his joys and sorrows alike.

reaching over, you took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. he didn’t say anything, just gave your hand a quick squeeze in return, a quiet acknowledgment. but you could see it in his eyes, that gratitude for a family he never expected to find—a family that had now become part of yours.