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winterwandersland · 2 months

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New Story: Paperwork

Summary:

“Who’s that?”

“‘Mare’. The Lieutenant’s Missus .”

“Why d’you call her ‘Mare’?”

“‘Cause she’s a right paperwork nightmare’”

Task Force 141 is in dire need of a linguist and on short notice. Their Lieutenant, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, knows who to call, and with loads of convincing, he finds the team’s linguist, his wife, Kamara ‘Mare’ Riley, her military records filled to the brim with write-ups for disciplinary action.

Previously in a unit together that was imprisoned for months, only them two making it out, Simon has fought to rid the world of the people like the ones who imprisoned them, fighting on the lines, while Kamara has decided to stay at home with their adoptive daughter, Ellie. Leaving Ellie to her uncles, Joel and Tommy, while they are away, Kamara joins the 141 on a mission that could save or destroy the world, opening the door to a past they thought was left behind.

Will Simon be able to choose between work and his family? Will Kamara be able to face the demons from her past? OR will a mission put the Riley family in jeopardy?

tw/cw: arguing, slight mentions of past torture but nothing detailed, mentions of death word count: 3.8k Simon knows the perfect linguist to ask to assist his team on an important assignment.

Chapter One

“I have already told you ‘no’, Simon. How many ways d’you need me to say it? Nein. non, não, いいえ, нет, no, नहीं, He, Hapana-,”

“Alright, I get it.” It had been a grueling few days, every conversation seeming to lead to the same topic of one-sided interest, joining Simon on the Task Force, the same conversation that led to the same decision, ‘no’.

Usually, Simon respected his wife’s boundaries, but this subject was one of great importance to him. It was a matter of life or death, a few lives to save the many, but he hoped it would be one life to save the world. It was a reasonable price to pay. They kill the enemy, the world is saved and everyone, well, almost everyone, goes home.

“But you do get why we need you, don’t ya?” She was very aware of why his team needed her and it was the very reason she knew they could find someone else if they tried hard enough. “Yep, and I get there are plenty of other linguists in the military y’all can call.”

His wife was his last hope, the only person he knew he could let on the team and trust. He trusted her with his life and therefore knew she would be the only person who he let near his precious team. “There ain’t no other linguists who can fight and translate like you do. No one else has a memory like yours.”

An eidetic memory was what he was referring to, a type of memory that allowed his wife to save her teams countless times, translating destroyed texts that she memorized beforehand, deciphering messages that seemed impossible to understand, even to the best trained and specialized linguists. “You all are the best of the best. I’m sure you can figure something out. I’m not leaving Ellie behind. It’s bad enough when you leave. What do you think two parents leaving her behind will do to her?”

Before their imprisonment, Simon and Kamara had already begun their secret affairs, Kamara sneaking into the men’s barracks, never being caught except for one time by her Captain, but because of her good behavior that week, he turned a blind eye, only giving her wry looks during their meetings. Their mission-gone-wrong had started as a joint operation to rescue a group of hostages taken by rogue scientists and military personnel that planned to release a virus that would have killed thousands. The team spent months in captivity, despondent that any inkling of help would arrive. Upon their escape, the inseparable couple had grown closer, seeking out the hostages themselves despite their injuries, Kamara more wounded than her counterpart and leaving with a permanent scar that dragged from below her eye towards her jawline, a constant reminder of the hell she endured. They spent weeks recovering and months searching for the whereabouts of the hostages, but by the time they found them, it was too late. Each hostage had already been brutally murdered, having suffered from the fatal serums they had been given. However, there were two people left, a mother and her young daughter.

The mother was dying, pleading for the soldiers to take her child and care for her. She told them the child was special and that they couldn’t let the other soldiers or scientists take her. So, the child said her goodbyes and Simon silently put a bullet in the mother’s head, the room dark so no one, especially the child, could see, too young to fully recall the memory. Three years later, the child, Ellie, was finally comfortable and felt safe in her new home with her new parents. While the soldiers hadn’t planned on having children so soon, they knew that they had more than enough love to give her and that they were the safest people to raise her, so they did just that.

“Listen, we won’t be gone long. She can stay with Joel and Tommy, get to know Sarah a bit more. Please, love, we need-“

The floor creaks behind the two, hinting at the presence of their child being amongst them, Kamara shuddering at the sound which didn’t go unnoticed by Simon, adding to his theory of his wife’s paranoia that someone was watching them. “Hey there, sweetheart. What’re you doin’ up so late?” Simon moved towards the young girl, squatting to her eye level before picking her up as if she were the same size as when he first met her. “I heard you and Mara talking very loudly.” Ellie never called Kamara her mother or Simon her father, and they thought it was best to never force her, letting her create her own boundaries in their household. “Sorry, baby, didn’t mean to yell and wake you up,” Kamara said, planting a kiss on Ellie’s cheek.

“You weren’t yelling, just loud.” Ellie was soft-spoken, only ever yelling when she was in great distress. The two had taught her to express herself, allowing her to communicate healthily without raising her voice too loud, something the couple was still working on. “We’re sorry, love. We’ll keep it down.” Simon was always gentle with Ellie, Kamara too, opposite of the brutish man that efficiently took down his enemies on the battlefield.

“Actually, we were just finishing,” Kamara quipped, wanting the conversation to be over with and never reach the surface again. “We’re going to bed, aren’t we, dear?” Her brown eyes shooting Simon a look he knew all too well, accompanied by her smile that she used to cover up her annoyance in front of Ellie, but letting Simon know that if the conversation continued, their daughter would be complaining of yelling instead of loud talking. “Yeah, we are,” giving his wife his look of almost certain defeat, “You want to head to bed yourself or do you want t’be tucked back in?”

Having never had kids, Simon and Kamara didn’t know if Ellie was too old to continue to be tucked in, but it was a small act that they both wished they had in their childhoods, one they hoped Ellie would never stop asking for, but feared the day she would. “Can Mara tuck me in this time?”

“You don’t like the way I tuck you in?” Simon teased, faking his hurt emotions and eyeing Ellie, who smiled as she spoke, “I do, but Mara does it better.”

“I’ll make sure to take tips from the blanket-tuck expert, then.” Kamara reached for Ellie, who fell into her arms after Simon gave her a kiss on her forehead. Ellie was growing while Kamara was not, so holding her wasn’t frequently her first option, but the thought of leaving Ellie made her want to cling to her tighter, keeping her on her hip as everyone headed to the lowly dimmed bedroom.

There were lights that hung over the curtain hangings that loosely draped over Ellie’s bed, keeping her room dark enough to sleep but light enough to keep her from seeing her dying mother in the corner of her room. Kamara lightly placed Ellie in her bed, performing the same ritual she had done since the first time she had put Ellie to sleep, waving her blanket the same number of years old Ellie was, the last wave always falling perfectly over the child’s body, each limb protected from the bad men that come to take her when she sleeps at night. “Goodnight, boo,” Kamara gently said, placing a clinging kiss to her daughter’s forehead and pushing the loose straight strands of hair out of the child’s face as she laid in bed. “G’night, kid,” Simon said from the doorframe of the room, waiting patiently for his turn to give the child a kiss goodnight. “Goodnight, Mara,” Kamara heard behind her back as she exited the room, avoiding eye contact as she walked past Simon with her arms crossed, heading to their shared bedroom. He headed to Ellie, kneeling beside her to bring himself eye to eye with the tired child. “Are you both going to leave me?” she asked her father quietly, making sure that Kamara could not hear her.

He choked on the words he couldn’t muster up, his brain racing to find the right ones. Kamara was right, if she joined the team, they would both be leaving Ellie. If she stayed, his team was in jeopardy, along with an entire country. “You know we could never truly leave you, right?”

“But you leave all the time.” The words felt like a punch to his gut followed along with a hand squeezing on his heart. “When I leave, I make sure I do everything I can to come back ‘cause I can’t leave you two forever, especially you. I’ve got a proper important job-,”

“Mara says you get rid of bad people, like the ones who killed my mommy.” Simon could feel a tear make its way to the front of his eye, and while he worked hard to teach his daughter that it is okay to be emotionally vulnerable, it was easier said than done, for him at least. “Yes. And that takes time, so I’ve gotta go away sometimes, but I always come back. I have to.”

“Why do you want Mara to leave with you? Does she get rid of bad people, too?”

“Kamara, your mother,” he emphasized, something he made sure to do whenever he remembered, not to erase Ellie’s memory of her biological mother, but to remind her that Kamara was her mother, too. “She’s got skills, ones that me team needs, but she dun’t wanna come ‘cause she dun’t want to leave you.”

“If Mara leaves, will I be here by myself?”

“No chance, love. We’d never leave you on your own. You’ll stay with Uncle Joel and Uncle Tommy. You can have a play with Sarah.” The conversation felt wrong, like he was using their daughter against his wife, something he only did when they plotted to playfully ‘scare’ their mother as she came into the house. “Will she help you get rid of the bad people?”

“If she wants to, yeah, but she doesn’t fancy it, and that’s fine. Just like we say to you, you don��t have to do summat if you don’t want to. ‘No’ means ‘no’.” He felt like a hypocrite, knowing that he had tried to convince his headstrong wife to join him for the past few days despite the number of times she told him ‘no’.

“But if she doesn’t help, then the bad people will be free.”

“There’s plenty of other folk who can help me at work. They might not be as good as Kamara, but they’ll get the job done.” He didn’t want to worry the young child, already traumatized by the death of her biological mother. But something told him that his wife was his team’s only hope, and he felt like Ellie may have known that, too. Before Ellie could speak again, Simon broke the conversation off, “Get some rest, love.”, he said as he placed a firm kiss on her forehead.

When he made his way toward the master bedroom, he both hoped that his wife was asleep, but also had a sliver of hope that she stayed awake to continue their conversation. The bedroom was quiet when he walked in, the only sound being a spray bottle the Kamara was using to wet her long coarse coils, a routine she did before wrapping her hair in a scarf and heading to bed.

Simon was always good at being quiet, defying physics given his size, a trait that Kamara both loved on the field but hated in their shared humble abode. She stared at Simon for a slight second before she headed to their bed, keeping the silence between them. “Love?”

“Simon,” a name she only ever fully pronounced when she was pissed with him which seldomly happened, but the name also slipped past her lips when she thought they would die, scared it would be the last time she ever heard it, however in this instance, she was nearly infuriated, only keeping calm and collected to stop herself from waking up Ellie with her yells.

His eyes were pleading with her, but her eyes already told him her decision, every plea her husband had worn her ability to stay firm on her decision. “You can’t go to bed.”

“Well, why the hell not?”

“‘Cause you’re angry.” It was a rule they had. Never go to bed mad at or upset with each other. However, that rule was out the window today, “Watch me.”

She untucked the tightly made bed, unwrinkled because of the pair’s military training. Before she could get in, there was a tug on her arm and a familiar arm on her waist that spun her around and pulled her away from the bed that was so dear to her. “No,” Simon said, keeping his body in between Kamara and the bed. “Simon, move.” She tried to get around the large man, but it was no use because of her smaller stature, though she was sure with enough anger and determination, she would win the game that her husband was trying to play.

“Can we have a chat first? Then you can lay your lovely little head on the pillow.” Somehow, he always knew his praises would find their way through Kamara’s stubborn barrier, the one she put up when she shut down, or in this case, wanted to cease the topic of conversation. “You’re not gonna give up, are you?”

Simon shook his head, the first time he had ever pushed past Kamara’s final decisions. Whenever she said ‘no’, she meant it and he always respected that, but this time was different. Knowing Simon for as long as she had, she knew whatever mission he needed her for was of great importance to him, though most of his missions seemed that way, but this one was different.

“Fine. Run me the details of the operation in a timely manner. I would like to rest my lovely little head on my pillow,” she said with a forced smile going across her face. She stood with her arms crossed while she peered up at her husband who had a slightly sunken look in his eyes. The deep breath he took before he spoke was all Kamara needed to know that the mission sat heavy on his heart, her smile instantly fading, “The person we’re after plans to start a World War, one that could wreck loads of countries.”

“Okay. How does this person differ from anyone else you’ve gone up against?” Every enemy wanted a war. It wasn’t uncommon. People want power and would do anything to get it, including starting a war if it meant their name would be on the paper. “‘Cause no one else knows this person better than you do. We need you, Mara.”

“Spit it out then. Who the hell is it?” Simon could feel a lump in his throat forming, not wanting to set off the beloved woman in front of him who was just calming down. “Zakhaev. Vi-,”

“Viktor Zakhaev. Yeah. No need to finish. I got it.” She averted eye contact with Simon, her gaze now staring at the floor, her head filling with memories of the man, well, indirect memories. She had never met the man, only subjected to torture by his men years before. The only information she knew about him was what she studied in his files, information decrypted from flash drives, and analyzed behaviors.

“I hoped they would have caught him by now…”

“Every time anyone thought they had him, he slipped through their fingers. We reckon he’s got a partner helping him get away.”

“I wouldn’t shoot the idea down.” She was still grappling with the information she was just told. Only twenty-five years old and tortured twice, both times she blamed herself for whether or not she was assured it wasn’t her fault. Three times if you count the duration in her childhood. The last three years she had been in a bliss, away from violence and the only torment she faced was when she went to sleep at night praying to an unknown god that her husband would make it back home. The compensation and benefits she received from the federal government was more than enough for her and Ellie to live off of, and when Simon was home, it was just right. Enough to eat, keep a roof over their head, proper clothing for the winter, and the ability to take a few vacation trips during the year. It wasn’t enough to hold the wedding Kamara had always dreamed of, but none of that mattered. She had her husband and her kid. They were worth more than any wedding she could have had.

“So what do you need a linguist for?”

“There’s a set of documents that we can’t make out. Just in case it’s got confidential info-,”

“You need someone you can trust.”

“That’s right. You’re the only person I trust and that Price can trust.” It was almost unbelievable, how could anyone trust her knowing her history? “How? How could you trust me with anything of that caliber?”

“Kamara,” his voice pitying his love, the person who blamed herself more than anyone else, “it weren’t your fault.”

“I’d believe you if it were the first time. After the second time, there’s a pattern. I almost got my team at the bureau killed. Our unit is dead because of me.” Before the military, Kamara was an informant for the FBI, gathering any information on her former agency that she was so determined to demolish. Being too close to the case got her removed, but she was the youngest to join and the most stubborn, all thoughts of the consequences if she continued with the case on her own nowhere to be found, ending with her team having to be put into witness protection for an extended duration of time.

“Neither of those were your fault, love. Nowt was ever your fault.”

“If that’s what keeps you in bed next to me at night, sure.” No matter how many times someone told her it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t find it in herself to believe them. Simon had been trying for years, but to her, all the evidence pointed to every reason her team’s death was her fault. Everything wrong was her fault. That is what she believed.

Simon reached his hands to cradle both sides of the woman’s face, forcing her to look at him, revealing the guilt she carried hidden in her stare and the forced smile she tried to give him, though her lip quivered. “Listen to me. What Zakhaev did to you weren’t your fault. The bureau weren’t your fault. The Red Room weren’t your fault.”

A tear escaped from her eyes, something she tried so hard to fight off, but if anyone could make her cry, it was Simon, even if he didn’t mean to. He never had any malicious intent, but he seemed to be the one person that found access to the emotions she fought so hard to hide. She hadn’t heard anything about the Red Room in years, something she was grateful for, hoping that the agency would one day collapse, ending the suffering of the next class of Widows.

She hadn’t mentioned feeling guilty for her actions at the Red Room, but leave it to Simon to know that Kamara’s one wave of guilt turns into a spiral down memory lane. The two had both struggled with mental health, but they did their best to manage it without medications, only taking them when needed. Sometimes, Kamara felt like Simon was always ten steps ahead of her when it came to regulating their mental stability, but little did she know the turmoil that he constantly went through, using the military to blow off his steam.

They were similar in such a way that they both turned their emotions inward, only seldomly lashing out at others. Since she’d known him, Simon was able to keep his calm demeanor, having to learn to manage his anger issues when he returned to the military after a tragedy. He learned to turn his anger toward his enemies rather than his friends, though the friends who knew his anger were now dead.

Simon pulled Kamara into his chest, holding her tight as she cried so very gently to ensure her tears were only heard between the two of them. The flow of tears felt nonstop, staining Simon’s shirt and leaving their salty taste on her lips, and the air becoming less able to go through her nose. In Simon’s embrace, all of her worries went away and the safety she was never guaranteed formed, allowing her vulnerability to be completely displayed. “I’ll do it,” she cracked through her tears, inaudible to Simon. “What?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”

“No, no. Kamara, I didn’t say that just for you-,”

“I know. Just…I’ll do it…just bring the files here.” Just when he thought that the weight was lifted from his chest, it drops once again, him letting out a deep sigh. “I wish we could,” Simon started, knowing that the next words that came out of his mouth may end the first physical moment in months they were having, “but nowt can leave base. Price dun’t want nowt to happen to the files if they were to leave.”

He was telling the truth. The files couldn’t leave base and it would be a breach of confidentiality if they did. “M’sorry,” he whispered in advance. Kamara pulled herself away from her husband, him wiping her tears once she peered up at him. “It’s alright,” she said, sniffing up the invisible snot that blocked her nasal passages, another reason she hated crying, “Base is only an hour away from Joel and Tommy. We can drop Ellie off and each night I’ll spend the night with them, so it’s not like both of us are leaving her.”

He embraced Kamara again, taking advantage of the rare time that his wife actually let him touch her after three years. It hurt his heart to hear those words, implying that only one was leaving their daughter, knowing that it was him she was referring to. He left every time, putting his job above his family, but to him it was for a good cause. He put into his head that completing the mission would bring his family back together, and more importantly, bring his wife back.

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mistyresolve · 1 year

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| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 4)

Word Count - 6.5k

Summary - Every question answered only led to more questions, Rowe turns out to be nothing more than a pawn in a much bigger game. The stakes are higher and Doc is second-guessing their decision to join the 141 on this mission. The 141 is forced into darkness and plans are changed. Doc and Ghost are to head to the abandoned Fort Echel when suppressed feelings begin to arise.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Maybe a little bit of angst, Mentions of childhood trauma

A/N - There is no actual smut for this part but it does get a little heated. I wanted to put the actual action on a separate part in case people wanted to skip it.

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3 ❤︎ Part 3.5

Masterlist ❤︎ Tag List Form

Ghost was quick to order everyone, except Price, out of the building. His demeanour turned dark and his pupils were blown, taking in the smallest details of his surroundings. His eyes would flick over to even the slightest movement. This change in personality made him unrecognizable, his smokey tenor foreign to you. The man you shared a hug with not ten minutes ago was long gone. The mask that was knit deeper into his skin came to the surface. Each breath and motion he took was calculated, like a predator watching his meal being brought to him.

This was what he didn’t want you to see.

This was what he was trying to hide from you.

“Don’t come in unless I call for you,” he didn’t meet your gaze, his attention fixated on the three men that Price and Gaz brought into the building. None of them stood a chance when they pulled into the Port, not with Ghost in front of them and Price and Gaz at their rear. It was too easy. There were no flying bullets or arguing, Rowe and his men knew they wouldn’t stand a chance. Not that they were given one.

Ghost had brought his pack from upstairs with him, only this time it looked heavier on his shoulder than before despite nothing being added. No. It was the weight of what he was going to do with its contents.

“How long?” you shifted on your feet as the men were brought past you to the rooms at the back of the building. Even with the doors closed, you knew you’d still be able to hear them if they screamed. Bile rose in your throat. You wanted them to get what they deserved, but you wish you had been on a far-away rooftop like Laswell or Soap. You knew it was coming, but it was all happening so fast, and all of it was too real.

You watched as Ghost analyzed the men, dissecting their personalities and flaws. Already, he was devising a course of action; who would talk first, who would give him the most information, and what he could use against them. He dipped his chin ever so slightly at you and shrugged, “We’ll see,” his voice was low but slightly quivered, the only indication that he was angry. His hands were still and calm as he reached for the doors following Price and Gaz.

Gaz returned to keep you company a short while later, his fingerings digging into his temples. Matching the action with the grimace on his face was a sure sign of a headache.

The second was just as strange; you worried you would hear them screaming and crying and begging but whatever Ghost and Price did they kept it quiet. Kept them quiet.

Gaz was good at distracting you though. He asked you about your new air support assignment and your future plans. You asked him about the patches on his sleeves and how he got himself a spot on the 141. He then wiped out a deck of cards with a devilish grin, “Snagged these from LT. Don’t tell him I have them, he's been searching everyone for them since Tuesday.”

“He always has a deck. What’s with that?” You opened the tailgate of the truck for a place to play cards.

“Mate’s an absolute savage at poker,” Gaz rolled his eyes as he shuffled the beat-up deck, “I’m pretty sure he's a cheater though.”

You and Gaz played three games of poker. Well, he won and you lost three rounds, and then you told him he was going to bleed you dry and choose a different game. Then he wiped out the good old “Go Fish”.

Five hours had passed when Price came back out from the warehouse, his attention solely on you. For a split second, you thought he was coming out to tell you they were done. Until he said, “We need you.”

You jumped down from your seat on the tailgate, “Yessir,” You followed him back inside the warehouse, grabbing your kit from your pack on the way, “I don’t have enough supplies for all three.”

“That won’t be an issue,” Price scowled, stopping only once before opening the door. He opened his mouth, then closed it, rethinking his words, “Prepare yourself.”

The door made no sound when he opened it, the air conditioning from inside the room hitting you in the face. Cooling the sweat around your temples. Then you realized that the air wasn’t just cool but freezing. Cold enough that your breath fanned in front of you in big white puffs. The room was a giant freezer, used to store the goods that needed to stay refrigerated before transport. This room would explain why you couldn’t hear them, why no one would be able to hear them. Price leads you to a section in a far corner, with plastic sheets hung from the ceiling to cut it off from the rest of the room. He pulled one of the sheets back ducking into the area and holding it open for you to do the same.

You half-expected blood to be dripping from the walls, pools of it on the floor, but it was relatively contained to a few areas. You also expected to see bodies, but you weren’t about to ask where they were stashed now. There was still one man tied to a chair. His body sagging in the seat and his back was facing you so you couldn't see his face. He was breathing but each breath was sharp and shallow.

Across from him stood Ghost, his mask lifted to the bridge of his nose, a cigarette caught between his lips. He leaned against a stack of boxes, his arms folded over his chest. He had perfectly positioned his body to conceal the array of tools and weapons laid out behind him. His eyes followed you into the room but otherwise, he remained still. Still and silent.

“Make sure he doesn’t die on us till we’re done with him,” Price forced the man to a sitting position, revealing his face to you.

If it wasn’t for the same blue shirt he came in with you might not have recognized him. His face was broken and bloody drool leaked into the front of his shirt. His skin was pale and his fingertips turned white. His fingernails were missing, leaving behind raw flesh.

You nodded, kneeling before him and began a more thorough inspection. Already his skin resembled a corpse more than a living human. You moved to his neck needing to double check for a pulse. It was irregular and faint but it was there. With gentle hands, you felt for any abnormalities. When you reached his abdomen Rowe let out a low bubbling groan, the first sign of life you’ve seen from him. You lifted his shirt and gritted your teeth. The skin was warm and bruised, “He’s got internal bleeding,” there was no question about it, “If we call a medevac now this is survivable.”

You stood back up, turning to Price.

“He won’t survive,” he deadpanned, this expression unreadable.

Your face scrunched for a second in confusion, “It isn’t fetal yet. We just need to get him a—”

“He won’t survive,” Price said with such finality that you had to look to Ghost to make sure you were hearing him correctly. Rowe wasn’t dead yet and he still had time. Only they weren’t planning on saving him. They brought you in here to stabilize him for a little while longer. Draw out the last dregs of life from him so they could continue.

“There isn’t much I can do for him here and with what I have on me,” you opened your kit, racking your brain for a solution. With a shake of your head, you weigh the ethics of what you were able to come up with. What a strange time to be entertaining ethics, you thought before handing a vial to Price, “A shot of adrenaline will get him in talking condition again, but” you emphasized on the ‘but’, “it’ll hasten the internal bleeding. So, you’ll have about ten more minutes with him.”

“Do it,” Ghost pushed off the crate, stamping out the cigarette under a boot and pulling his mask back over his face, “I can work with that.”

Even as you drew up the liquid into a syringe you couldn’t stop that queasy feeling from growing. It felt wrong to be killing someone this way. A horrible, awful someone but it went against the very core of providing healthcare. You gritted your teeth as you injected Rowe and prayed it would kill him faster than you initially predicted.

You quickly left after that, throwing one last look at Ghost. He made no move toward Rowe. He was going to wait until you were out of sight and out of earshot.

Ghost and Price were another half an hour before they came back out. Price was murmuring something to Ghost before turning to you and Gaz.

You wanted to ask if the adrenaline worked but thought better of it, especially after seeing the shadows in Ghost’s eyes. The way he looked through people, his mind someplace else entirely.

His voice was horse from the hours of interrogation when he spoke, “Shit’s getting old,” you couldn’t help but cringe at the sight of his knuckles, bloody and raw. They were quickly made hidden when he reached into his back pocket for his gloves, mindlessly tugging them back on. Next, he unrolled his sleeves, covering the splatter of blood that reached all the way up his arm. The only physical evidence anything even happened

“Got what you needed?” Gaz stretched his legs out in front of him before standing.

“And more,” he jerked his chin back to the warehouse, “Two of them knew fuck all but Rowe liked running his mouth,” a pause, “There’s a leak and it’s coming directly from HQ.”

“What?” both you and Gaz said in unison, perking up.

“Who?” Gaz furrowed his brows, his face a show of bewilderment.

“He didn’t know. All he knew was that they went by the name Spector and that they know fucking everything,” Ghost shook his head in frustration.

“How much is everything?” you asked hesitantly.

Ghost and Price shared a look that could only mean something was really really bad. Something that would change everything. The look made your heart skip in your chest.

“He knew my name,” Ghost said lowly and the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him. The air became stale in your lungs.

If this Spector was throwing out people's secret identities that was a massive problem. But if Spector had access to Ghosts files, that was an entirely different level of problem. It meant that this person not only had access to classified documents but redacted information too. This was beginning to be so much bigger than just Rowe.

“So, Rowe wasn’t necessarily the one who knew about the convoy? He was just following orders,” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, eyeing Ghost, who was more than displeased with this turn of events.

“Affirmative,” He leaned back on his feet, “But that only confuses things. Rowe had a motive after being ousted. This Spector is more of an enigma.”

“Wouldn’t that mean they would have known about this mission? Why didn’t they warn Rowe?” Gaz brought up a good point. The few things that made sense to you didn’t anymore. What would Spector have to gain from something like this? Why stop the convoy? Who else is he talking to?

“To prove a point,” Price interjected, his eyes darkening with barely concealed anger, “Spector sent him a package yesterday with sensitive information about every one part of the 141,” he turned his attention to you, his expression shifting to something akin to apologetic, “That includes you. Rowe said he didn’t share anything with anyone else but the documents aren’t secure.”

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach. You hide and run from your past like it was the plague and now your history was floating around the world, available for anyone to look at.

Ghost made a grumbling sound before saying, “He left everything at a safe house on the outskirts of town.”

“Are Laswell and Soap still at his apartment?” you asked, shoving your hands under your arms to keep them from shaking.

Price nodded, “They’re on their way there as we speak, one of them should give us a call once they’ve retrieved everything. For now,” He reached for the dial on his radio and turned it, flicking through the channels, “We need to lay low. Switch your radios to channel six and get rid of any devices someone might be able to track you on.”

It was risky not knowing who Spector was or what he was capable of and it was obvious they knew more about us than we did them and they were probably keeping a close eye on us. Listening in on conversations on our radios. It was a horrifying thought to learn that someone with so much power was basically invisible. Neither Ghost nor Gaz hesitated to do as Price ordered, and none of them were as shocked as you were. It was hard to be angry with their lack of concern because this was their job, they dealt with a kind of threat all the time. The realization that you might not be as prepared for this kind of mission hit you like a bullet. You were a corpsman, a medic and nothing like who were the 141.

You were a medic and you just killed a man.

You pushed that thought down. You wanted this and you refused to let the little voice inside your head psyche you out. You cleared your throat, “Are we alone?” Being alone meant no more support and no more backup.

“We’re going dark for a little while. Just until we have a better idea of what we’re dealing with and we won’t be completely alone, we’ve still got a few men we can get a hold of it shit really hits the fan,” Price knocked your shoulder with a gentle fist. You wish his words had been more comforting than they were.

“Inside the house Rowe told you about,” Laswell’s voice floated through the radios, “He must have torn through this package last night, like the little savage he is. There are documents all over the place.”

“Everything there?” Price replied before nodding to the unmarked vehicles.

“I can’t be sure but I’ll grab what I can. Burn the rest?” She sounded distant, her attention on whatever was in that house.

“Take a good look around, try and find anything relating back to Spector. But if you feel like getting rid of everything is better make sure there won’t be any casualties,” Price was moving, quickly turning back to Ghost to say, “Head to Fort Echel.”

Ghost nodded before pivoting and striding for the truck. You jumped into the vehicle with him, “I thought Echel was dismantled?”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours, seeing something you didn’t realize you were showing, anxiety, “It is, but we’ve been stashing gear and supplies there for months.”

Of course they would have had a backup plan. Assuming “We” was the 141, they probably had every piece of equipment a squad might need in dire situations. Fort Echel was still a two day's drive from the city at the very least. Two days if we only stopped for gas and to use the bathroom.

Gaz and Price disappeared minutes later, taking a different route from you guys.

You drove for hours in silence, and the sun had long since set. The only source of light now was the lights on the front of the truck and the illumination from the dashboard. The radio was on but the volume was low enough that your foot tapping against the floor was still audible. Ghost side-eyed you once, twice, three times before releasing a tight breath, “What’s on your mind?”

“What—” You wanted to choose your words carefully, “Did Rowe say anything about me?” This time he kept his attention on the road, and when he didn’t answer immediately your hackles began to rise.

“Nothing,” it was a blatant lie but you could tell from the tightness in his shoulders he wasn’t going to tell you the truth. You knew he wasn’t lying to you on purpose, nor was he trying to hide something from you. He was telling you he wasn’t ever going to mention what he had heard but with far fewer words. He wasn’t going to repeat whatever was disclosed in that room.

You were incredibly grateful to him for it, but it was better if he heard it come from you. If only so he would know the exact truth, “I didn’t just join the force for the money. I joined to get away from my family,” you held your breath, waiting for a reaction. There wasn’t one. So he knew that much already. You started again, “My dad was an alcoholic and my mom was an enabler. My siblings and I took the heat off her when my dad got out of control so she didn’t do anything to stop him when…” you trailed off as you watched the city fall away to nature as you guys drove further and further away, “he was an ugly drunk,” you managed and that was going to have to do for now, “I’m sure Rowe told you my dad is in jail for murder.”

“He did,” the words were cautious and gentle despite the significance behind them. He didn’t mention who was murdered and you didn’t offer the information. Nor would you ever. It was too hard to talk about. Too…confusing.

“He’ll be there for the rest of his life,” your tone jumped a few octaves in an attempt to get rid of the heaviness in the truck, “Testifying against him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. To this day I wonder if it was the right thing. Which sounds ridiculous, because, of course, it was, he’s the devil. But at the same time, when he wasn't plastered he was my dad. He took me to all my sports, and taught me how to ride a bike,” you wiped your palms on your pants to dry them of the sweat that began to accumulate there.

The truck slowed to a stop, pulling into a dirt side road and continuing on until you came up onto a small decently well-kept portable building. Ghost turned off the engine, pausing to stare out the front window before finally committing to his next action. He pulled his mask off, revealing a mess of hair, grown longer than the few times you’ve seen it before. He’s been too busy to get a cut. The black paint smeared down his cheek and across his eyes hid some of the tiredness from beneath his eyes. He grazed a clothed thumb across the scar on his top lip, “This one was from my dad when I was seven. Hit me with a nasty right hook and my teeth went right through my lip,” he moved his fingers to the scar peeking out from the hair on his brow, “I was twelve and he threw me into the kitchen table.”

Eight years old. He was eight years old and his own father did that to him.

There was no doubt that there were other scars scattered across his skin with similar stories. One’s that matched the scars littering your own skin. Angry ears burn at the corners of your eyes. You were carried away by a wave of emotions like a dam broke and released them all at once and they swirled and churned in your stomach. Anger, guilt, shame, empathy. You were right all along. Maybe it was some unfortunate 6th sense, but from the moment you met him you could feel the entangled youths you too shared. You didn’t say anything, as no words would be equivalent to the flurry inside you.

“Don’t be thinking you’re less than others because of your past only to turn around and tell me not to do the same. All while we bear the same traumas,” he tossed the mask onto the dashboard and leaned back into his seat, he closed his eyes for a moment, “Half the people you work with are just the same.”

It wasn’t the first time you saw his face but each time you did you were stunned by his handsome face. You studied his profile and there was enough light that you could still see the faint lines around his mouth. Lines formed from years of frowning or smiling you weren’t entirely sure. There was an innocence that smeared across his features but it was swiped from existence when he opened his eyes once more.

“Hypocrisy is a funny thing,” he murmured, his thoughtful dark eyes searching the horizon, “And I’m not immune to it,” because he too does the same thing he was reprimanding you for. He was doing it right now.

A cover of silence fell over the two of you, save for the low volume of the music on the radio. You savoured the rare moment of peace. It had been so long since you were able to share a moment like this with him. He was sitting right next to you and you still missed him. Missed the time you had lost with him. Missed the excitement you felt every time he walked into the medical tent. Missed the conversation and companionship. This time when he turned his head to face you, you searched it for a hint of what you were feeling.

And there it was. A flicker of sorrow. Of heartache. Like a match being lit and quickly blown out in a place with no light.

“I missed you,” you confessed with a nervous laugh, “I’m still mad as hell with you, but dammit I missed you.”

He blinked and his expression remained unreadable, “You haven’t a clue,” then a shy smile, “I couldn’t get you off my mind no matter what I did. I felt like I was losing my mind,” he opened his mouth but was cut off.

“Rowe's safehouse has been dealt with,” Soap buzzed, and the sound of a fire crackled in the background, “Found a hard drive but I’ll need some time to decrypt it, and a couple of letters from his old CO. Other than that and the files on us, this place was a bust.”

Disappointment reverberated in Ghost's chest and he kicked the truck into reverse, backing back onto the highway, “We can finish this conversation once we get to Echel. The rest of the squad will be a day behind us, we’ll get things in place for when they catch up.”

“We aren’t going to stay the night here?” you looked back to the shrinking silhouette of the building behind you.

“Not anymore no,” his jaw ticked in frustration.

“You’re going to drive through the night?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“Done it plenty of times before, Doc,” he shifted in his seat, preparing for a long ride, “You should get some rest though. Won’t be a lot of time once we get there.”

“I’m fine,” you prissed, “I’ll keep you company. Make sure you don’t fall asleep behind the wheel and kill us both.”

“How thoughtful,” he looked out his window but not before you caught the grin and his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek to try and hide it from you.

“What do you want to talk about?” you slid your seat all the way back to allow you to fully extend your legs and stretch.

“This was your idea, don’t be asking me.”

You shot him a vexed look before asking, “What was the last movie you watched? I would take you for either a documentary or an action-type guy.”

He hummed, amused by your guess, “Legend.”

You thought for a second, “The one with that one actor from Peaky Blinders? Uhhh,” you fought to remember his name, “Jake Gyllenhaal?”

“Oooh, close. Tom Hardy,” This time he didn’t bother to hide the teasing smile from you.

“That wasn’t close at all,” you frowned.

“Uh-huh. That’s the joke, Doc,” it always came as a shock to you that Simon Riley was capable of making jokes. With the stick up his ass and all.

“I don’t find you very charming,” you very much did find him charming but he’d never hear those words come out of your mouth. Not because you were embarrassed to say something like that but because he would hold it over your head for the rest of your days.

“You wound me,” he most definitely was not wounded, evidenced by the lack of hurt in his voice.

“Was I right about the documentaries and action movies?”

He nodded, his eyes flicking from the road to you and back to the road, “I enjoy the occasional Blue Planet marathon.”

You murmured the title to yourself for a second, trying to remember the series, “Like the animal one? With David Attenborough?“ when he nodded again in confirmation you got excited, “You marathon animal documentaries?”

“They’re calming,” he elaborated, his thumbs tapping on the steering wheel in time with the beat of the music on the radio.

“I prefer Our Planet. I’m not a huge fan of large bodies of water,” you teetered back and forth about films and actors and tv shows. You talked about books and varsity sports. Failed high school exams and first jobs. The conversation flowed just as easily as it did before, it was like you guys were picking up where you left off. He listened more than he spoke but you were alright with that because you talked enough for the both of you. He would add little bits here and there, share a story or two, but most of the time he would nod or hum or chuckle.

His soft, breathy laugh was what you missed the most. The sound was so rare and so lovely and it always made you feel good to be the one to bring it out of him. Simon didn’t smile enough. Which was a damn shame because his smile was sweet. Shy, even. His eyes would crinkle at the corners, and every grin was followed by a sarcastic eye roll or a playful shake of the head.

You don’t know at which point in the conversation you fell asleep but by the time you woke up the sun was already up and Simon was standing outside the truck emptying a gas can into the tank.

Your neck and back and shoulders were sore from sleeping in an awkward position. With a groan and a huff you unbuckled your seat belt and hopped out of the truck. Simon eyed you from the other side of the truck, his mask was still on the dashboard and seeing him in full daylight bare faced was a real treat so early in the morning.

You stretched out your arms above your head, “Was I snoring?”

“Like an old man. I had to pull over and check the engine ‘cause I thought it was about to blow up,” he said with a straight face, but his dark eyes twinkled with wit.

Fixing him with a blank stare, “You’re a bully,” you lifted a hand to cover your eyes to look down the road. The land was devoid of other people and seemingly went on forever, “How much longer do you think?”

Simon drove all through the night and he was no doubt reaching his limit of no sleep. He might have a bigger fuse than most people but he was still human. Looking at him now, with his tired eyes and nodding head, you felt a strong need to force him to rest.

“We’ll be there by tonight,” he looked at the watch on his wrist and picked up a second gas can to fill the rest of the tank.

You walked to the driver's side of the truck, daring him with your eyes to stop you from opening the door and taking the driver's seat, “I’ll drive the rest of the way,” you didn’t bother asking him because you knew if you did he’d say ‘No’. He must have been truly exhausted because he didn’t argue, not even a grunt of disapproval from him.

He lasted ten minutes in the passenger seat before crashing. He had leaned the seat all the way back, stretching his long body as much as possible, and his hands folded over his stomach. His chest rose and fell in equal bottomless breaths, and his face serene. He looked younger, the stresses of the day incapable to follow him into sleep.

You knew the general direction of where you were going but had to check the paper map from the glove box for the last hundred kilometres. There was no way you were going to wake up Ghost to ask him for directions, he needed and deserved the sleep. The last time you saw a paper map like this was back when your family used to take camping trips from coast to coast for the summer. Your father was adamant that the paper was more reliable than the digital GPS. Which was a lie because you were regularly taking detours and U-turns.

A gloved hand took the paper map from yours and folded it back up, “Just keep straight,” Simon kept his eyes closed but directed you to the remnants of Fort Echel. The fence surrounding the camp was still up but no soldiers stood guard at the entrance. Only a few portable barracks were left behind, the lot was vacant and the garage at the back was boarded up. You pulled up to the back entrance of the garage, the boards that once secured it were leaning up against the side of the building.

“Wait here,” he pulled on his mask and he quietly closed the truck door behind him. He unclipped the pistol at his thigh, readying for a fight if need be as he unlocked the door to the garage and disappeared inside. You held your breath, counting the seconds.

The garage door rumbled and rolled open, revealing Simon and their stash on the other side. There was no way this was only a month's worthwhile of stashing. There were vehicles, guns, ammunition, and rations.

Simon guided you into the garage, “Let’s get this place lookin’ nice and pretty, yeah?”

While he took care of the weapon you set to taking stock of the ammunition and rations and gas reserves. It took the rest of the day and neither of you stopped to eat, the work preoccupying all your time and attention. You shared words here and there and made the occasional eye contact but the both of you were comfortable in just sharing the space.

Simon moved quickly and practiced, taking apart, cleaning, and putting guns back together was second nature to him. You would have never believed such a job could be clean until you watch him do it, not only were his clothes untouched by the oil and gunpowder but so was the table. Although his fingers were a different story, those were stained and greasy.

“Why was the rest of the squad a whole day behind us?” you peeked over the crate of ammunition, a clipboard in hand to recount the stock.

Ghost was at the large table in the middle of the garage, guns and parts and oils laid out before him, “Price and Gaz cleaned up after us, got rid of the bodies and their cars,” he was polishing the barrel of a sniper, the name “Intervention” spray painted into the stock, “Laswell and Soap were busy with Rowes safehouse, they ran into some trouble on their way out.”

“Anyone injured?” You walked to the next crate.

“Soap says he rolled his ankle real bad and is gunna need you to kiss it better once he gets here,” Ghost and Soap had brotherly love. Tough love and you already knew he was busting Soap's ass for “rolling his ankle”. You could imagine the two men bantering over the radio while you slept last night.

“Maybe I’ll give him a lollipop after too,” you threw the clipboard down on the table next to Ghost.

“He’s not allowed sugar after nine pm,” he glanced at the clipboard and gave you a nod of approval at the count. All was well and accounted for. The wide garage door was still open, and twilight had fallen. The only lights were the propane lamps planted in the darkest corners of the building, making it harder for anyone to try and sneak in on us.

You sat at the table on the stool opposite Ghost, resting your face in your palms, “A sticker then.”

The rest of the squad would be in tomorrow mid day, and Price mentioned over the radio a few hours ago of having a friend come in as backup in the next few days. He didn’t mention who it was going to be and Ghost just shrugged and you asked him if he had any ideas, “If Prices say they’re good, they’re probably good. Still, keep your head up though, you never know.”

“You must have a lot of trust in Price,” you spun a spare bolt like a top and watched it spiral out of control before clattering back down on the table.

“I have a lot of respect for him, yes,” he pointed to the box of springs and bolts beside you. You slid it over to him and he picked out what he needed for the sniper, “He’s saved my sorry ass a few times. He was one of few who had my back when the army wanted to discharge me.”

You tilted your head, “They wanted to discharge you? Why?” Simon acted like a picture perfect soldier, he followed every rule and regulation and he showed results. People looked up to him, respected and admired him.

“About 5 years ago, now. I was relieved from service for a few months and could only return upon finishing an anger management class,” you could see the meek grin beneath the mask when your jaw dropped open, “I lost my shit on a mission and it nearly cost someone their life. Amongst other incidents. Multiple incidents. If not for Price I wouldn’t have had the chance to come back at all.”

You snapped your mouth shut, it wasn’t hard to believe, you could see the occasionally simmering anger beneath his mask of cool and calm. He must have paid good attention during his classes considering you’ve yet to see him completely lose his control.

He wiped his hands clean on a fresh cloth before bracing his palms on the table, leaning ever so slightly closer, “A lesson well deserved. I was an asshole back then.”

“A lesson not learned, you’re still an asshole,” you flicked the chain on his dog tags dangling from his neck. Your fingers intertwined with the silver chain before letting it fall once more.

He hummed his eyes narrowing at you, a mischievous glint in them, “Oh, I can be so good.”

You squeezed your thighs together as heat pooled into your core. He’s looked at you with that same promising expression a few times before. Each time you’ve pretended not to notice or refused yourself to indulge in the curiosity. You had a feeling that curiosity was going to be getting the best of you tonight, “Can you?” you would play along tonight too. You leaned back on the stool, your hands braced behind you to allow him an uninterrupted view of your body.

With heavy lids he dragged his eyes down your frame, examining every curve and line. His fingers twitched on the table as he fought the desire to reach out and feel those same curves for himself. Your chest tightened in anticipation.

“So good,” he murmured, his imagination already running wild with his intentions. When his eyes met yours once more you almost leapt across the table at him. He hasn’t touched you and could already feel the effect of him. Phantom hands ran up your thighs, and side, leaving tingling skin behind. You slowly spread your legs as a silent invitation.

His attention shot down to between your legs, his chest rising and falling faster than it did moments ago. His eyes squeezed shut and he backed away with a groan, “I suggest you go take a shower in the barracks before I take you right here,” the only thing stopping him doing just that was being on the wrong side of the table and pure will.

You couldn’t decide whether you were upset or appreciative of his restraint. He picked up on this because he quickly followed up with, “Just not how I imagined my first time with you,” he waved a hand across the array of stuff, “There were fewer guns and oil.”

You decided you were upset at his restraint. You would be more than happy if he were to bend you over the table and have his way with you.

Be good to you.

Yet, you obeyed the “suggestion” and slid from the stool. You had to brace a hand on the table as your knees felt like jelly beneath you. A slick heat was already hiding between your legs and your mouth felt too dry. Too empty. You licked at your lips, the lips that were suddenly too lonely. You considered reaching across and lifting his mask in search of company.

He watched your every move with delicious awareness, and his eyes flashed with warning, “Go. Now,” he hissed.

“Will you be joining me?” you tested, your heart racing in excitement.

Another groan and he had to grip the table for dear life, his eyes dropping to his feet, “Don’t test me right now. I’m trying my best here.”

Leaving a room has never been so hard, your every nerve ending was begging you to turn back and let him undress you. The cool night air stung against your sensitive skin, but it allowed your mind to regain control of your body once more. Oxygen was once more filling your lungs. A giddy giggle bubbled up your throat like carbonation in pop.

On your way to the barracks you let your mind wander, let it daydream about the man still pacing around the garage. How his large hands would leave your body shaking for more, how his tongue would leave your mind liquid.

You were right in the middle of imagining his hands in your hair while you were on your knees before him when your shoulder cracked against the doorframe of the barracks. The sudden flash of pain drags you back to reality.

The vibrant blush that followed could be seen from space with the right binoculars. You scolded yourself for acting like an airhead teen because a man showed you a little interest. Then again it was more than a little interest. It was a downright promise of pleasure.

Masterlist

Part 5

A/N - I’ve finally finished my clinical and I'm making my way back home for the summer so I’ll be able to get back to uploading regularly again!!

Tag List

General - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @purplefishingline ❤︎ @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @dog55teeth ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @meaganjean ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @mymommy ❤︎

His Foresight - @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy ❤︎ @naxxsstuff ❤︎ @sididakra-jo ❤︎ @yukisawer ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @kat-nee ❤︎ @meganoreid ❤︎ @thewoodenarcade ❤︎ @kaghost ❤︎ @shadowcldx

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #modern warfare two #MW2 #ghost #ghost mw2 #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #captain john price #john price #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick

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primojade · 2 years

Text

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈: 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐈𝐔𝐕𝐀𝐓. ( fortune favours the bold )

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈.𝐈𝐈 : 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐌 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐈

" fear not death for the hour of your doom is set and none may escape it. " - volunga saga, c.5

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒' 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | As a veteran AR60 player of Genshin Impact, you pride yourself as someone who knows the ins and outs of Teyvat, even studiously completing Spiral Abyss every reset, and having 100% exploration to some, if not all, of the released regions so far. Everything is fun and enjoyable, especially since Sumeru just recently debuted so you still have a lot to do!

All that ends though, when a mysterious passerby pushes you off the building of your university while playing Genshin. But instead of meeting your inevitable end, you find yourself waking up in the very world you were addicted to!

It's supposed to be a fun dream, right? Something you could laugh at when you wake up? Right?! So, why is that you were back in AR1 with nothing but a dull blade in your inventory?!

…well, at least you still have those 700+ sunsettias and mints, Timmie's fowls…and surprisingly similar game mechanics you used to merely see on the screen before. But what should you do now? Flirt with the Genshin men??? Good lords...

"Welcome to Genshin Impact, Dreamer. Here, we can show you a happier ever after you've never had before…so, ready?"

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 | In which you somehow find yourself tangled in the start of a web of conspiracies and confusion as the threat of the crumple paper of fate led you to a strange path with two equally strange men.

𝐂𝐖 / 𝐓𝐖 | Cursing, possibly ooc Kaveh and Alhaitham, spoilers for Sumeru Archon Quest, let me know if I missed anything <3

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | This is a lot harder to write because I established a new plot lmao. And because of Kaveh and Alhaitham it was so hard to write them sjakahs. Also, this was supposed to be posted on Friday last night but I was so tired after a whole day doing god-knows-what outside so I wasn’t able to finish the chapter :( Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

masterlist | route 1: argumentum ad hominem | (alternate route) route 1.1: magister dixit

Apparently, today was simply not your day.

Even before you get the chance to leave the blasted scene you found yourself in, you got stuck in the House of Daena together with two potential suspects of book robbery, one is known for being an academia lunatic and one for being a perfectionist architect. Not that you knew that they would do it, of all people, but at this point, you just did not want to give a damn.

Anyway, flashback almost a week prior after your arrival in Teyvat and before all this crazy fiasco happened, it's not everyday that your rationality won over your desire to earn and farm primogems, you know. It's also a near impossible feat to abandon the quest that could potentially help you advance your AR and even more so in pretending that Cyno is not outside, talking to Tighnari over something you wisely choose not to listen to–lest you might incur more suspicions from the both of them.

Which, in fact, is the last thing you wanted to do.

So, ignoring the questline and the angry red mark of the Paimon Menu, you closed the tab and let yourself fall on the soft bed once again with a dejected sigh. You repeatedly told yourself that this decision was the best course of action and you will have no regrets in this route. Still, you didn’t know how many hours had passed since then–all you somehow perceived is falling asleep, being lulled by the hushed whispers of the people outside and the quiet stillness of the Avidya Forest you grew accustomed to in the past months from behind the screen of your device.

All dreams would soon end. Your hippocampus reminded you, and you agreed. No matter how much this bittersweet reality you found yourself in looks so believable, you couldn’t be far from your own reality…right?

There has to be a way to go back.

That aside, the past four days you spent in Tighnari’s care was far from not being nerve-wrecking, if you were being honest. The fennec therianthrope seems to like hovering around you a lot, fussing like a distressed mother when you do something that he thought would strain your body and passionately lecturing you about the pros of staying in bed while you rest as if you were a poorly disciplined child.

While you admit that he was a great caregiver and it was endearing seeing a former 2D character worries about you despite literally knowing nothing about you, Tighnari’s inevitable tendencies to get lost in his lectures and fussing made your resolve to go back home hardening even more.

Though when the sixth day had passed, you were finally allowed a bit more freedom to roam around. During that time, Tighnari had introduced you to Collei, his student and a trainee forest ranger, and it takes you a lot—and really, a lot—not to bawl your eyes out when you see the green-haired girl. You remember when you used to see Collei in the Genshin manga, she was still so small back then! And now, she is all grown up, cheerful despite her life experiences…and even kind-hearted enough to offer to take you to a visit in Sumeru City along with the other forest rangers to fetch some supplies to stock before the start of the heavy rainy season.

It was also on the sixth day when you found a crumpled paper with the word ᛚᚨᛖᚡᚨᛏᛖᛁᚾᚾ written in all bolds and italics using bright green ink in the folds of your clothes. Although you were weirded out and freaked out why, how and who slipped it there, you decided you did not give a damn about it.

Well, that was until you found another crumpled piece of paper under your pillow when you decided to get dinner with Tighnari and Collei outside. This time, ᚷᛚᛖᛁᛈᚾᛁᚱ was written on it using the same bright green ink.

It doesn't even looked remotely similar to Teyvat's language, as what you've seen in passing when looking at the forest watcher's books on his study table. You have a vague idea what it means, but it was possible that it was one of their ancient languages, too. Since apparently, Alhaitham himself and any other scholars of his Darshan knows at least twenty languages, according to the lore.

But what the hell does it supposed to mean? It gives you the same level of anxiety when you are taking an exam in Foreign Languages. You started to question every motive, every reason why someone would send you, someone not even from this world, a crumpled paper with Earth's Runic inscriptions. Why would they send this to you? Who sent this to you? Do they even know you? A prank, maybe? What do they get from this? What do they want from you?

In any case, you don't want someone out there continuously bullying you, and you don’t have any lawyer here to sue them (unless you count on Yanfei, but that’s beside the point). So, as a last resort, you asked Tighnari if you could join the forest rangers going to Sumeru City because you planned to find your answers, and the possible prankster, in the House of Daena. Plus, you were really itching for a change in scenery!

So, yes, you won't get defeated by the Crumpled Papers of Fate before you could find a way back home!

"—oh, Collei…did I tell you how much I appreciate your existence? How could I cry in reverie for your benevolent acts? Just say the word, and I would do anything for you, you lovely human being."

Collei, probably used to your strange flare for dramatics, giggled in response and tugged your looped arms together. "I just think you need a change of scenery while recovering, and I know Master Tighnari's lectures could be too much sometimes, even if they come in good faith. Especially when you were recu…recu…um, what does he say again?"

"Recuperating?" You wrinkled your nose and Collei modded cheerfully. You can't really blame her for tripping over words, since most of the Genshin characters, especially those with super rich and scholarly background, used to speak formally and use deep words. The first time a curse slip passed your lips about two days ago, you remember seeing Tighnari's scandalous stare as if you offended his whole vocabulary.

It was also a fun way of teasing him. A small payback for all his lectures about flowers and taking care of yourself.

In any case, he begrudgingly allowed you to come see the Sumeru City along with the other forest rangers. It wasn't a long, arduous trek as you expected it to be, despite not using any Teleport Waypoints, maybe because the journey was an eye-opening one (especially when you saw chests and puzzles that you swore you already gotten before) and your group had tried your best from steering clear of any hilichurl or Eremite camps scattered around the forest.

After dropping you off at the Akademiya grounds, Collei and the other forest rangers told you that they will fetch you later after they're done restocking their supplies, you excitedly went inside, hoping to find some sort of lead or help in solving your crumpled paper predicament.

Although Katayoun, the librarian, had adamantly asked for your credentials and permits before she let you borrow any books. Apparently, only students are allowed to have access here, but thankfully, Tighnari gave you a letter that he said would be enough for the librarian to let you inside, should you give it to her.

“—what kind of book do you need, anyhow?” Katayoun finally relented.

“Uh, anything about Teyvat’s ancient language. The one with the alphabet similar to this one, if possible.”

The librarian peered into the two crumpled papers you presented to her, before shaking her head. “Most books about ancient language are strictly available only to students of Haravatat Darshan, and since your permit is from an alumni from Amurta, I apologise if I cannot comply with your request.”

As she said with no room to complain, you had no choice but to pick other possible books to read that were available for you, stomping and frowning in defeat. But just as you sat on a chair in the farthest corner of the grandest library you ever saw in your life (it was even bigger than the one in-game!!), someone walked towards the seat across yours, waving his hand to you to get your attention.

"Hello! Do you mind if I sit here?"

You felt as if you had a sudden epiphany, hearing a familiar voice that made your head snapped to him in surprise. You even almost knocked the pile of books you borrowed earlier when your eyes met a pair of sharp, mystic red irises and a tuft of fluffy-looking dirty blond hair.

You resisted the urge to scream in both panic and excitement as you stiffly shook your head at him. IT'S KAVEH…?!

He coughed to gain your attention. "Ahem, I know it's very unbecoming for a gentleman such as myself but I couldn't help but to…overhear your conversation with our resident lovely librarian earlier. You were looking for books about ancient languages, correct?"

You blinked out of your reverie, slowly nodding at him. "Um, yes. I just need to find some references about…something. Unfortunately, I'm not a scholar from Haravatat to borrow the books I need."

His face lightened up, as if he, too, was hit by epiphany just like you. "Say, Mx…?"

"[Name]..."

"Mx. [Name], did you, perchance, recognise this?" Kaveh fished out something from his pocket and slid it across the table to you. Your eyes widened like saucers when you saw the familiar inscriptions of Runes written into three separate pieces of paper.

"The Crumpled Papers of Fate!" You hissed. "You have it, too?!"

"Yes!" He exclaimed in the same amount of enthusiasm as yours.

"But who the hell sent this?!"

Kaveh shrugged his shoulders elegantly before resting his elbows on the table and leaning close to you. He playfully beckoned you to inch closer as if he's conspiring something with you. "That's what I want to know as well. All I realised is that the Crumpled Paper of Fate is some sort of code that gives us symbolism over something."

Your brows raised in curiosity. "Symbolism?"

"It looks like you got two pieces. Though somehow, I got three." He tapped his gloveless finger on the table, the corner of his mouth turning downwards. "One in my pocket, the other was clipped together with my roommate's book in our living room, and the last was stuck in the door of my room. I even accidentally smack my head—"

"—which proves my point that your eyes are made of marbles if you didn't notice the door in your face."

Both you and Kaveh almost jumped from your seats when a deep voice spoke from behind you. Your jaw dropped when you caught sight of the Akademiya's Grand Scribe pulling the chair on your right side before getting himself comfortable on it, placing the books he held on his hands on the table with a soft thud.

WHAT IS ALHAITHAM DOING HERE THIS TIME?!

You were near hyperventilating near two handsome—and former 2D—dudes that was now glaring at each other. Well, more like Kaveh killing Alhaitham with his glares because the Scribe just leisurely opened his book and crossed his legs, seemingly adamant in ignoring his roommate.

And just like every playable character you met so far, and even the NPCs themselves, these two looked so human and real to someone from a game. The finer details from their designs and splash arts were more highlighted and even the contours in their faces are too detailed to be true.

Your eyes briefly glanced at the scribe's arm, and you inwardly whistled in amusement. Wow, those muscular arms could crush my skull. Lololol.

"Oi, Alhaitham! What in Teyvat are you doing here?" Kaveh asked in irritation, his former cool-ish aura vanishing in the instant.

He ignored Kaveh, his light turquoise eyes, highlighted with orange pupils, looked at you for a second and your breath hitched at its intensity. "...I overheard you two talking about the ancient scriptures and codes from the crumpled papers."

Your brows furrowed. "Huh…do you guys have something for eavesdropping or something?"

He ignored you, too, and fished out three very familiar pieces of paper and slid it together with yours and Kaveh's. "....I suppose this is the reason why you want to borrow books of ancient languages, no? I will give you a hint. All of our papers are written in Runic inscriptions."

"Yeah, yeah, you the great scribe of the Akademiya from the Haravatat Darshan surely knows what it means." Kaveh said, sarcasm lacing his tone like a venom.

You grew more curious. "Where did you find yours?"

"Does it matter?"

You tried again. "And what does the Runic mean?"

"Kaveh's Crumpled Paper of Fate means Ship, Blind, Light—which is rather suspicious, especially given that Kaveh found one of his papers in my book." Alhaitham said in a matter-of-fact tone, tapping his said book, that made Kaveh rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"As a matter of fact, the only suspicious thing about that book," the architect scoffed. "...is that it's being held by a drama queen."

The last thing I remember, Kaveh's Vision is Dendro, not Pyro. Lol.

Alhaitham gave an unimpressed, humourless stare at his roommate's spiteful words and you tried suppressing your laughter, remembering Alhaitham's Oscar-like performance in the Archon Quest.

"Anyhow, back to the topic before someone rudely interrupted me. Mine was translated to Eye, Knowledge and Ravens."

"But what does mine—"

You suddenly halted when a loud thump echoed across the library, and then there's screaming. Before you knew it, several Matra of the Akademiya flooded across the room, startling everyone who was inside.

"A book robbery took place in the library's restricted section. Everyone that stayed in the House of Daena between six in the morning until now, we are expecting your cooperation."

So, that's what happened to your supposedly peaceful morning. You were suddenly caught in the apparent book robbery in the restricted section, and you heard the General Mahamatra was going to interrogate every single person that the Matra caught.

This is not freaking good.

The prospect of meeting Cyno should be wonderful, right? BUT NO. You were on the receiving end of his job right now. And it's not even close to thrilling at all knowing the side of Cyno working that you honestly, do not wish to know.

Well, at least Kaveh and Alhaitham were with you right now. Though with the way they were bickering nonstop, you suddenly wished you could tell them to shut up.

"Theory number ten," Alhaitham muttered to himself; he was sitting so comfortably beside you as if they weren't on your way to the interrogation room.

"You seriously reached theory ten with your nonsense?" Kaveh bited.

The scribe fished out a notebook from who-knows-where, looking for something. You tried to peek a little, but his muscular arms were in the way and it's embarrassing to inch closer when they didn't even bother introducing themselves to you. "It's possible that whoever sent this has the connection with the three of us—or at least, knows us to some extent. Perhaps wanting to measure our intelligence? For what?"

"Isn't that already obvious?" His roommate impatiently said. "[Name] got their Crumpled Paper of Fate in their own home, we got ours in your dorm, which by the way, only the two of us have access to. Whoever did this surely knew us pretty well."

"This is the reason why you didn't pass in anything other than your courses in Kshahrewar." Alhaitham said. "You always assume things."

"Excuse me, I'm not assuming. I am concluding!" He defended, apparently offended.

"Then don't jump into conclusions even if that's the only workout you do."

"Why you—"

As much as their banter was so amusing to watch, there are more pressing matters you had to know. "But that's impossible. I don't know anyone in this place aside from the Forest Rangers in the Avidya Forest, you know. It's nearly impossible that Tighnari and Collei would do this just to prank us. Though, I always had someone with me, so it's not possible that someone I don't know snuck into my room either…"

"You seem like you always have a witness with you?" Kaveh turned to you.

Alhaitham paused for a second. He blinked slowly, before a subtle smirk slowly pulled from the corner of his lips. "That's it."

"Huh?"

He stood up from his seat. "A witness." He vaguely replied before he went through the door faster than you could blink.

You and Kaveh stared at the door.

Then you two realised what Alhaitham just did.

"Oi, he just ran off without us!" Kaveh exclaimed in anger before tugging your hand to follow his roommate outside. "[Name], let's go before the Matra catches us!"

What in the world did you got yourself into?

Route 1.2.1: Stop Kaveh from escaping. You had a feeling that escaping isn't a good thing, especially since Cyno would probably hunt you down later. What's there to fear when you're innocent, no?

TAGLIST (open! Send a dm or ask to be added :3) | @xinii , @maehemthemisfit , @abvolat , @crazypriestess , @ghostsaysno , @kittence , @unabashedlyminiaturetyrant , @xiyanin , @toasterinabathtub , @sketcheeee , @fuoon , @luvwukong , @salty-salty , @rosebatsc , @inky8 , @thegeekact , @almighty-raiden-shogunate , @isuckat-avery-thing , @perhapsabitgirlypop , @2cuteforyourlies , @stxrgxzxr , @elsoleil , @tsukkinoyya , @mkaella , @celi-alika , @tiffthescales , @blurr3db3rry , @messyserver , @shadowmist0706 , @chin-chii , @observation-subject-753 , @clovers-anxiety , @shizunxie , @lleoll , @shoujishu , @uwu-panic , @forgotten-blues , @chaneylovesfangirling , @enma-reblogs , @cookielovingalien , @iruiji , @samarill , @definitionofsad , @spynerr , @bigcandlesmolbrain , @universal-rose , @feverish-dove , @inlovewithwaffles , @louise-rosita-leroux , @chocogi , @jar-03 , @swaggyb0ke ... (if ur username is bolded, it means i cant tagged u :(( maybe its in ur settings? Also lmk if i missed anyone cause im such an idiot sometimes shsh)

Route 1.2.2: Go with Kaveh to chase Alhaitham. If he escaped, you two would escape along with him! He's the grand scribe and Kaveh is an influential architect, they could get away with this mess with you…right?

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #tighnari x reader #kaveh x reader #gender neutral reader #tighnari #cyno #kaveh #alhaitham #genshin self aware au #twilight-theatre #jaded moments—!

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juniperss · 2 months

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Band of brothers medieval au ,that's just a thought...

anon, your mind….lets take this a step further if you don’t mind me doing so:

knights of the round table au. Now I’ll be honest and admit that my knowledge on King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table is entirely sourced from BBC’s Merlin so you’ll have to bear with me BUTTTTTTTTTT

“We would fight a thousand armies with our bare hands for you. We are never alone. We stand together." -Elyan to Arthur

In this AU I clearly picture Richard as Arthur. Just as in Band of Brothers, we see how quickly Easy Company (led by Lipton and so on) admit they would rather be transferred (or even killed) than to have to serve under Sobel. It’s clear from the beginning who the loyalty of the Company belongs to and that is Winters.

Now there aren't enough Knights of the Round Table to have each member of Easy Company, so I'm going to divide Easy into the Archetypes of each Knight that they most reflect in either all or most aspects (in my opinion!) -Sir Gwaine Archetype: "I think we have no chance. But I wouldn't miss it for the world." Bold, seeing the best in others, flirtatious, confident, fiercely loyal, humorous, throw hands first and ask questions later, and believed that people should be defined by what they did rather than who they were [Guarnere, Toye, Speirs, Talbert] - Sir Lancelot Archetype: "It is not just his deeds that we'll never forget. It is his courage. It is his compassion. His unselfish heart." Kindhearted, compassionate, courageous, humble, loyal and self sacrificing. [Lipton, Roe, Malarkey] -The Sir Elyan Archetype: "He's [Elyan] just one of those types of people, never settles down, never thinks about the future. Just follows his heart wherever it takes him." Affectionate, adventurous, loyal, brave, kind to others, cunning and quick on their feet, giving. [Muck, Skip, Nixon, Liebgott, Luz] -The Sir Leon (THATS MY MAN!) Archetype: "I have fought alongside you [Arthur] so many times, there is no one else I would rather die for." Steadfast, loyal, sensible, knew the difference between courage and foolishness, outspoken, humorous, good natured, self sacrificing for the greater good [Martin, Buck, also Lipton] -The Sir Percival Archetype: "Your enemies are my enemies" Quiet, man of few words, skilled, brave, gentle and softhearted, decisive, mischievous in the right company. [Shifty, Bull, Babe, Skinny]

Prince Richard presents his plan to stop an evil that has grown so powerful and destructive that he isn't sure he can actually succeed but he vows that he will try anyway. He doesn't ask his friends for help, but one by one they pledge their aid to him.

The Knights that Richard chooses aren’t all nobility nor are they approved by the King. They are simply men who have shown unwavering loyalty and love to him, they are men he trusts. And they are there when he has no one else, and they commit themselves to his cause knowing full well that they might not survive. Their numbers aren't many (only 5 Knights with any skill in battle and 3 honorary members) but they are steadfast and skilled.

After Richard establishes the Knights of the Round table, he would later abolish The First Code of Camelot that states that only men of noble blood can be Knights. After all, blood does not make the man. It's his actions and loyalty that do.

I do absolutely adore the idea of the Knights (Easy) wearing red cloaks and armor like the Knights do in Merlin. It's so dramatic and I think it should be allowed *bangs gavel*

Something something the Knights were so deeply loyal to one another that it bordered on something more than platonic something something the dedication to one another that after the death of their leader there was too much grief to continue on something something.....

While the Knights are meant to be a symbol of the realm and its power, I also see them as representative of the common people, especially in the BBC Merlin version after the Round Table is established. These are men who have come from varied backgrounds and experiences and there's not a way that they wouldn't be seen as what could be for the future.

watch this video and tell me i'm wrong (pls don't tell me i'm wrong)

#asks #band of brothers #band of brothers au #my writings

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riaarivic · 2 years

Text

HATE 1: Omen (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 Warnings For this chapter: mentions of death and vioence, foul language

🌙 Chapter wordcount 831

🌙 Series Index

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

🌙 HATE 1: Omen 🌙

Heartbeat pulsing slow in my ears. Bump, bump, bump

You were running.

Running like a bat out of hell, darting across the rooftops of a hidden neighborhood within the heart of Seoul. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, propelling you forward as if the demos from your worst nightmares were snapping at your heels.

Don't look down, fuck.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and the footsteps of the men who were chasing yoy. They were getting closer to you at a speed greater than you could possibly run.

They were going to catch you.

Your heart pounded louder with each passing second, and the relentless footsteps of the men behind you grew ever closer. They were like shadows, ominously encroaching on your escape route. You couldn't help but think of how it all went down just a few minutes ago.

For a second you have to fight your brain’s urge to yell, "Parkour!" when you jump from the railings from a staircase to a rooftop – even though it would've been hilarious under different circumstances.

"Focus, Y/N," you muttered under your breath.

This was definitely not supposed to happen this way.

This wasn't how things were supposed to play out, and you knew it. Against your better judgment, your instincts, and the damn training you'd gone through, you'd made every wrong move that led you to this edge.

You knew your options were running out and you couldn't keep running forever.

Trying to escape with no avail. Jump, jump, jump.

The road was over.

The road ahead had run its course, leaving you with nothing but a drop of a hundred meters straight down to the Han River. Below it’s waters ran dark, icy and unforgiving.

If you fell, you would fall to a cold painful death.

And fuck, how you hated the cold.

You needed a plan, and you needed it fast, because right now your options were to end the day with a bullet to the head or be found gray and cold floating on the banks of the Han river by the police.

No, it wouldn't be a swift, merciful death.

"Traitors don't deserve the mercy of a quick death."

Those were the chilling words of the former leader of The Clan. Once they sounded like a cautionary tale, now they were a promise.

One last bad decision? Choose, you can't keep running.

You came to an abrupt halt and faced the men who had brought you to this.

The mission had failed. Your cover was blown.

"This is how you die, Y/N." you thought to yourself. You always knew you’d have a violent end. But never thought you would meet death by the hands of someone you loved.

That was the harsh truth. Everything that had the microscopic chance to not go as planned had gone up in flames, then gone wrong.

Like washing your hair the next day you bleached it - wrong.

Like stealing from your mom - wrong.

Like trying to put stilettos on a horse – wrong.

You get it, right?

Because now, you'd rather die to protect them.

The very people you were initially sent to destroy. The same people you were supposed to despise with every fiber of your being, all because you were an agent of the law, and they were criminals.

But that was then, and this is now.

Now, you were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to buy more time and help them.

Now, you'd choose death over something happening to him.

No song affects me anymore. Crying out a silent cry

“Choose, die in his hands or in yours” again the voice in your head reminded you that you had no real choice anymore.

You dropped your weapon and raised your hands. His eyes remained cold, anger and pain swirling like a tempest in dark his irises. But the rest of his face remained inscrutable.

And he kept pointing his gun at you.

He took a step closer without breaking eye contact, the cold steel of his gun pressing against your temple. He removed the safety and eased off the trigger, not enough to fire.

His hands trembled.

For an instant, you saw your own emotions mirrored in his eyes.

Pure hatred.

Hatred for himself, hatred for you – for making him love you, then betraying him.

And something else that was enough to break you.

Sadness.

You could handle the scorching heat of his hate. Forever if necessary.

But couldn’t stand another second watching how a single cold tear ran down his cheek.

You didn’t deserve to break his heart.

"Do it, you have to." You whispered so softly you weren’t sure he heard you.

The thing was, you knew he didn't want to kill you; he simply couldn't.

And neither could his brothers.

But you had it coming. You'd shattered their trust, broken every rule and code. Betrayed all the oaths you'd sworn.

You broke your oath as an Interpol agent when you started lying to your team to protect them.

And then you broke your oath to them when you exposed their clan to the police.

You'd pledged allegiance to them, wearing their mark on your forearm. And you knew you could’t lie to yourself and say it was because of the mission.

"You have to... If he can't, you have to. It's the only way to keep them all safe." you thougts were frantic. But you knew there was no other way.

You took a step back, still locked in that intense stare, and in that brief moment, he realized your intentions.

You offered him one last smile, then let yourself plummet into the void.

Ocean with all light silenced, shut, yeah, yeah, yeah. My wandering feet held in a rut, yeah, yeah, yeah.

"No!" The anguished screams of the seven men echoed in your ears as you fell.

Their terrified faces would haunt your dreams for eternity.

"I hope you can forgive me." That was your last thought before you faded into darkness.

At what point had everything gone to hell?

When had the deepest hatred transformed into love?

And what was worse, the kind of love worth dying for.

Every noise and sound's been cut yeah, yeah, yeah. Killin' me now, killin' me now. Do you hear me yeah.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙 So, Hi. Hello How are you?

I decided I will translate this fic from my original language (Spanish) and post it from wattpad. This is a whole series and I will be changing a few things from the original plot; you can feel free to read it if you want to

Here: Odio || BTS || SUGA x OC x RM || MAFIA AU

I am very proud of this chapter btw 😅 And it feels kind of weird, because most of the times when I reread something i wrote in the past I feel the sudden urge of washing my eyes with bleach and erase it from the face of Eath, forever.

I’m kind of new to posting on Tumblr (Yeah, in 2023) so I will be editing in a while to make reading easier!! If you want to like and reblog that would be highly appreciated and thank You so much for your feedback!!

#bts yoongi #bts smut #bts mafia au #bts mafia series #mafia au #yoongi #bts fanfic #bts #bts au #series #enemies to lovers

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monsterkong · 1 month

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The Legacy of Julius Caesar - Hero or Tyrant?

Julius Caesar is one of history’s most polarizing figures—a man whose actions forever altered the course of the Roman Empire. But was he a hero who championed the cause of the common people, or a tyrant who destroyed the Republic? The truth, as with many historical figures, lies somewhere in between. 🌟

The Early Years: A Man of the People

Caesar was born into a patrician family, but his early life was marked by financial struggles. Unlike many of his peers, who inherited vast wealth, Caesar had to borrow money to fund his political career. Despite these challenges, he quickly rose through the ranks, becoming a powerful advocate for the Roman people. His populist policies, such as land redistribution and tax relief, earned him the support of the masses but made him enemies among the Roman elite. 💰

Caesar’s rise to power was bolstered by his military success, particularly his conquest of Gaul. His campaigns not only expanded Rome’s territories but also filled its coffers with gold and slaves. However, these victories came at a cost—Caesar’s brutal tactics led to the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people, earning him a reputation as a ruthless military commander.

Crossing the Rubicon: The Point of No Return

By 49 BC, Caesar’s enemies in Rome were determined to bring him down. Led by Pompey the Great and Cato the Younger, they accused Caesar of crimes committed during his time as consul and in Gaul. Caesar knew that if he returned to Rome without his army, he would be arrested and possibly executed. Faced with this dilemma, he made a fateful decision: he would march on Rome with his army, crossing the Rubicon River—a point of no return. 🌉

This act of insurrection marked the beginning of the Roman Civil War. Caesar’s enemies, realizing they had underestimated him, fled Rome, leaving the city in chaos. Over the next few years, Caesar hunted down his enemies one by one, eventually emerging as the undisputed ruler of Rome. In 44 BC, he was declared dictator for life—a title that many saw as a threat to the Republic.

The Reforms and the Assassination

During his brief time as dictator, Caesar implemented a series of reforms that had a lasting impact on Rome. He reformed the calendar, creating the Julian calendar that we still use today, and introduced laws that improved the lives of the common people. But his efforts to centralize power and bypass the Senate alienated many in the Roman political class. 😡

On the Ides of March, 44 BC, a group of senators, including his former ally Brutus, conspired to assassinate him. Caesar was stabbed to death in the Senate, his murder seen as an attempt to save the Republic from tyranny. But instead of restoring the Republic, Caesar’s assassination plunged Rome into another round of civil wars, leading to the rise of his adopted heir, Octavian, who would become Rome’s first emperor, Augustus.

The Legacy of Julius Caesar

So, was Julius Caesar a hero or a tyrant? The answer depends on whom you ask. To the Roman elite, he was a tyrant who destroyed the Republic. But to the common people, he was a hero who stood up to the corrupt ruling class and fought for their rights. 📜

Caesar’s legacy is complex. On one hand, he implemented reforms that benefited the masses and laid the foundation for the Roman Empire. On the other hand, his actions contributed to the collapse of the Republic and the rise of autocratic rule. His life and death serve as a reminder of the dangers of concentrated power and the fragility of political systems.

In the end, Julius Caesar remains one of history’s most fascinating figures—a man whose ambition and charisma shaped the course of Western civilization. Whether you see him as a hero or a tyrant, there’s no denying the impact he had on the world. 🌍

#Julius Caesar #History #Ancient Rome #Roman Empire #Roman History

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iamyoursinblog · 11 months

Text

Angel of death(pt.1)

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x Reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.5 k

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LIST

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Immortal life was one of the main advantages of being an angel, even if you were the angel of death. Even though you saw death every day, people's lives still surprised you. You found it amusing to watch them, their decisions and actions that sooner or later led them to you. But for some reason this guy attracted your attention more than the others, although your meeting was not yet close. There was something in him that you had never felt in people before - purity. You sat on the balcony railing of the second floor, watching his filming go by. Every day he was busy with something new, music, dancing, filming. Such a busy life, you thought with a smile on your face.

“Park Jinyoung, this is for you. Have fun,” the man with a wide smile put a box of letters in front of him. He read each letter with a smile, but when he opened the next letter, the joy on his face gave way to fear. That's something interesting, you thought, jumping from the balcony railing to the ground.

You walked up to him and looked at the piece of paper on which was written “I love you.” Nice, so that’s what scares him, a confetion of love. You wanted to return to your “spectator’s seat,” but a familiar smell attracted your attention. The smell of blood - you knew it too well. Someone wrote a love letter with their blood. It's even symbolic, you thought smiling. Although judging by the expression on Jinyoung's face, it instilled horror in him, not romantic affection. Apparently for people to get a confession in love written in blood is not considered a romantic sign. You sat down in front of him on the ground, watching his reaction. The letter fell from his shaking hands, falling to the ground next to you. Even fear suits him, you thought, watching his handsome face. You smiled as he leaned forward to pick up the letter, and his face was an inch from yours. He stood up and went to the man who brought the box. After which they quickly left. Well, you sighed in disappointment, your show is over for today.

. . .

You turned around, finding yourself in the castle, people would call this place your home.

“Watched that alive soul again?” your mentor asked when you entered his office.

“Thanks to him, I make new discoveries for myself every day. Today’s discovery: love letter in blood does not show romantic affection,” you said as you sat down on the large chair next to his desk. He just rolled his eyes and continued reading his book.

“For thousands of years you weren’t interested in people, but now you spend every day in their world and all this because of one soul.”

“He’s quite a beautiful soul, he wouldn’t be any different from the angels here if he showed up here,” you grinned, thinking about Jinyoung’s face

“Are we still talking about the beauty of his soul or already about the beauty of the owner of this soul?” he raised an eyebrow at you, but you just smiled. "Be careful anyway"

“Are you telling the angel of death to be careful? That's funny" you laughed before leaving the office.

. . .

Thinking about Jinyoung, you moved to where his soul was. You leaned against the wall, watching him walk down the long corridor. Behind him was a girl in black clothes. "Park Jinyoung!" she screamed getting his attention. “You should belong only to me!” she took a knife out of her pocket, swinging at him. In surprise, he swayed back, losing his balance. You snap your fingers stopping time. You came closer. Turning Jinyoung's back to the girl, you stood between them. Snapping your fingers again, you returned the passage of time and Jinyoung smashed into your back. "What the heck!" He said, falling to the floor behind you. You looked at the girl who screamed and ran away. Lowering your head, you looked at the knife on your collarbone and took it out and threw it on the floor. “What just happened? Who you are?" Jinyoung stared at you, turning in your direction while still sitting on the floor. “Where is that girl with the knife? It seems like you weren’t in the corridor?” he continued asking questions while looking around. "Aren't you injured?" he asked looking at you with concern when he saw the knife on the floor.

You were amused by his behavior, and the fact that he was worried about you, although he himself almost went on a date with you. “You humanity are so funny,” you said, squatting down next to him. “You guys keep refusing and trying to take away what doesn’t even belong to you.” You picked up the knife and saw blood on it, most likely it was she who sent that bloody love letter.

“You speak like that as if you don’t belong to humanity,” he said, getting up from the floor

You laughed, putting the knife back on the floor. “Not really, although I had more humanity today than the owner of this knife,” you stood up and cursed under nose, remembered the rule that you can’t disappear in front of people. “Bye,” you said, heading towards exit.

"Wait, who are you?" he asked

You turned in his direction, meeting his gaze. “Consider me your gift from fate,” you said, going out onto the stairs. You moved to the roof. Sitting on the edge, watching as cars with flashing lights appeared after a while.

You followed Jinyoung, wondering how it would all end. You sat on the cabinet in the corner, watching Jinyoung. You rested your chin on your knee, dangling your other leg down as Jinyoung described the attack. “There was another girl there, it seems she was the one who saved me by pushing me aside. Although I can’t fully remember what exactly happened after the knife was swung at me.”

“Anyway, you're lucky. This girl has already been cited for stalking other celebrities. Her blood and prints on the knife prove that it was she who sent you those letters you were talking about,” said the man in uniform.

“Were there only one person prints on the knife?” Jinyoung asked

"Yes"

He looked at the knife that lay in front of him, “But she definitely took it in her hands,” he whispered barely audibly, looking at the knife in surprise.

“In any case, you can rest assured that this girl will soon be found and arrested. Just in case, there will be security near your house until she is caught."

“Okay, whatever you say,” Jinyoung sighed and looked towards where you were sitting. His eyes widened as he looked in your direction. You turned around and saw the clock behind you. You were wonder why he looks at clock like that. Either way, he's safe.

. . .

You traversed to the mentor's office.

“Have you to interfere in this person live, didn't you?” he slammed the table hard, glaring at you.

“He wasn’t on your list anyway, so what difference does it make whether I intervened or not. I didn’t save anyone from death, I just saved myself from a boring stay in the hospital."

“I hope you have a lot of fun filling out all of this,” he snapped his fingers and a tall stack of papers appeared in front of you. You opened your mouth, examining the stack. “Have fun,” he said as he left the office. You fell onto the table, grumbling and pounding your fists.

You lost count of which form you filled out. You traversed to the roof of the van, watching Jinyoung who was filming. He was like a breath of fresh air, you were even lucky that he looked in the direction where you were standing. You felt your mentor approaching the office, and you returned to the table again, filling out another form.

“Now I understand why people say 'boredom to death'. It's really so boring you could die" you laughed clapping your hands as your mentor appeared in front of you.

“Weirdo,” he said shaking his head, leaving the office.

You buried your face in the papers; it seemed like the stack never ended. After finishing half of it, you moved to Jinyoung. You found yourself in the middle of a road with a lot of cars on it. You slowly walked along the road past cars passing at speed, approaching the car in which Jinyoung was sitting. He leaned his head against the window and watched the passing cars as he stood waiting for the green light for his side. You returned to the office and gasped. It seems like there were fewer papers before your disappearance.

“Oh yes, I forgot to say” you heard the quiet laugh of the mentor who was returning to the office “Every time you leave, the stack will return to its original size” he smiled at you. You hit the table with force and all the papers scattered across the huge hall. The mentor just smiled and snapped his fingers and returned all the papers to the table. “You can continue,” he said, sitting down at his desk and picking up the book.

I wonder if angels can feel tired, you thought, almost finishing filling out the papers. You definitely felt something or was it just anger? So hard to figure out. “I’m done,” you smiled widely, placing the last piece of paper in that endless pile.

“Well done,” the mentor walked up to the table and took the papers and threw them into the fireplace. You stood up and stared at the fire that was consuming your efforts, or rather your suffering.

"What?" you turned to your mentor

“This is just a tool for punishment,” he pointed to the paper burning in the fireplace, “The main punishment for you is to force you to sit in one place.”

You fell back into the chair, propping your feet up on the table. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

The mentor smiled and left the office. Before you could shout anything back at him, you fell through the chair and the floor. Great, another punishment, you thought, falling down through the darkness.

You found yourself on the table in a strange place, in front of an unfamiliar man. What is this?, you muttered. You've definitely seen him somewhere before. The man sat and looked through you with concern. Where did you see him, you continued to look at him.

“Jinyoung are you sure you’re okay?” the man asked

Jinyoung? Exactly, it was the man who was always next to Jinyoung. But why are you here? You didn't move here. You turned your head in the direction where the man was looking. Jinyoung stood near the sink, throwing away a broken glass. “No big deal, just a shallow cut,” Jinyoung said looking at the man.

You saw blood on his fingers, which he tried to wash off with water. What the hell, you muttered, sitting cross-legged on the table. You looked around, wondering how and why you ended up here.

“Hyung, it’s time for you to go home!” Jinyoung’s voice changed dramatically, and you watched in amazement as he practically pushed the man out of the apartment. You stood on the table, looking around. Maybe he’s waiting for someone, you giggled. You jumped, ending up on the back of the sofa.

“This looks familiar,” you said, looking at the painting on the wall.

"You! Who are you?" you heard Jinyoung's voice but didn't pay any attention to it. “It was you who was in the corridor when I was attacked!”

You turned sharply in his direction, jumping to the floor. “How can this be,” you muttered. He was definitely looking at you. "Can you see me?" you looked at him in surprise

“Yes,” he said shaking his head.

“This can’t be” you didn’t understand. You continued to look at him, trying to find in him the answer to this riddle.

“I saw you that night in the police station, and on the roof of the van. And then you stood in the middle of the road while cars drove along it at full speed.”

“What are you?” you looked at him, you had never seen people who saw angels before.

“I am a man, but who are you? That girl said she stuck a knife in you, but they thought she was crazy. But there was not a scratch on you, and you touched the knife, but there were no prints of yours. How could you save me from death?"

“Even if I hadn’t shown up, you wouldn’t have died, you would have just ended up in the hospital for a few weeks,” you replied. “Unbelievable,” you continued to examine him.

“It’s not me who’s incredible here, it’s you,” he said, taking a step towards you, attracting your attention. “You were now sitting on the table, but hyung didn’t see you, although you were in front of his nose. Then you said that you don’t quite relate to humanity. Who are you?" his voice practically trembled. Although you didn’t see fear in his eyes, it was more like excitement.

“It’s much more interesting who you are. Remember what we talked about, I’ll be right back” you pointed your finger at him before heading back to the office in search of your mentor.

"Can people see angels?" You asked as soon as you found a mentor.

“Only if the angel showed himself. Why are you asking?"

“And if only one person can see the angel, while he is hidden to everyone else. Could this be possible?

“Usually this can happen if a person experienced strong feelings for an angel when he saw him or the angel saved him from death. Then the angel becomes his guardian and appears in front of him every time the person is in pain or when he is in danger."

“If such a connection existed, then, for example, if a person cut himself, his angel would appear in front of him.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but if at that moment a person felt pain, then an angel would appear”

“This shouldn’t apply to the angels of death, right?”

“Even though you are the messengers of death, you are still angels first and foremost. So it affects everyone. Why are you even asking this?” he looked at you

“It’s simply interesting. To broaden horizons” you smiled

“If you are so interested, you can start with the books in the study. Better study books than do stupid things."

“Some other time,” you said, moving towards Jinyoung again.

He practically jumped in place when you appeared in front of him. You walked up to him and took his hand, seeing a cut running through all his fingers. So it’s true, you have become his guardians. “Will you tell me who you are?” Jinyoung asked as you let go of his hand and began to walk in a circle, trying to figure out how to get rid of this problem.

“Can we limit ourselves to the fact that I do not belong to humanity?” you smiled and sat back in your chair, crossing your legs, watching him.

“You know you don’t walk on the floor, right?” he asked, pointing to the surfaces in his room that you were moving on. “You can’t stand on the floor for long? Will something happen to you?"

“How cute,” you laughed because of the worry in his voice. “It’s more of a habit developed over centuries, because I definitely won’t run into people like that.”

"But they'll just pass right through you"

“That doesn’t mean I won’t feel it. Every time someone passes through me, I feel the darkness of their soul."

“If you feel the sins of people, does that mean you are a demon from hell?” he asked

You stood up and snapped your fingers, changing your appearance. You stood dressed in a black latex suit and twirled a burning trident in your hands, “And this is quite comfortable.” You ran your hand over your body, “Does it suit me?” you smiled, looking at the shocked Jinyoung, who, with his mouth open, backed away until he hit the wall. “Apparently, not very much.” You laughed and snapped your fingers again, returning to your previous appearance. You took one flower from the vase and tore off the petals and threw them up. By snapping your fingers, you stopped time

"How do you do it?" Jinyoung asked, pointing to the petals that were hanging in the air

“That’s what I thought, mine time stop doesn’t work on you anymore,” you muttered, snapping your fingers again. The petals fell to the floor while Jinyoung was still looking at you with his mouth open.

"Are you appearing in front of me because I'm about to die?" he asked

“No, you won't die. I'm just interested in watching you"

"Why? Is there too much darkness in me?" His voice was shaking

“On the contrary, there is absolutely no darkness in you, which surprised me. And by the way, to answer your question, I’m not a demon, although I don’t deny that for some reason people are used to thinking of me as one,” you grinned

“So you are an angel,” he said

“An angel of death to be exact” you laughed as his eyes widened “That’s exactly what I was talking about” you said pointing at his reaction

"Sorry"

“You shouldn’t take the blame for something you weren’t involved in”

"I thought the angels were different"

“I thought they showed up in robes and quoted the Bible?” You asked, “If it makes you more comfortable...” you raised your hand.

“No, stop.” He waved his hands, "Your 'unconventionality' and jokes help me not to faint." He looked out the window, “It’s winter now,” he said, and this time you looked at him in surprise, “You’re just barefoot, and yours...” Jinyoung looked you from head to toe, “the dress only slightly covers the body. You don’t feel cold?"

“We’re built a little differently,” you laughed. “Physical and emotional sensations, we can feel them, but only when we want them to” You looked at him as he laughed “What?” You asked

“Nothing” he tried to hide his smile

“You don’t want me to find out for myself, do you?” You asked, waving your hand at him.

"Can you read my mind?" At first he looked at you with widened eyes, but then grinned, answering to himself, “Of course you can. I thought that people must be happy to see someone so beautiful after death. I don’t know why this thought came to my mind,” you smiled at his assumption, without specifying that an angel after death comes in the form of the one they loved most in this life.

You looked out the window as the sky became lighter. “Don’t people sleep at night?” you looked at Jinyoung again

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. I am now communicating with an angel who is sitting on my chair. How can you sleep here? he smiled

“Try” you said when you felt that your mentor was looking for you. “I have to go” you got up from the chair

“Will I see you again?” he asked

“You're the only one who can do this,” you winked at him before moving out of the mentor's office.

“Don’t say that you have become the guardian of the soul you were watching,” asked the mentor as soon as you appeared

“Oops,” you smiled and shrugged.

“I warned you,” he shook his head.

"Is it so bad? Wow, great place, comfy,” you said, plopping down in the mentor’s chair, running your fingers over the soft chair.

"Yes! If you continue to appear in front of him, you will begin to experience emotions without the ability to control them. If you experience emotions, you may get hurt." Did you really hear the fear in your mentor's voice?

“Don’t worry, I’ll disappear before that happens,” you looked at your mentor, “Can I have that chair too?” you smiled widely while jumping on a soft pillow

“Please, a moment of seriousness! You are my eternal headache!" He grabbed his head, shaking it

“Your head can’t hurt,” you whispered, getting up from his chair.

“Every time I see you, I understand that nothing is impossible,” he rolled his eyes

. . .

You walked into your room, wandering among the shelves with all sorts of things that caught your attention in the human world. Aha, I found it!, you exclaimed, taking out a painting, exactly the same as the one hanging in Jinyoung’s living room. You placed the painting near the window and sat on the floor, looking at it. After you dealt with things, you were transported to the place where Jinyoung was. You stood on a high fence, watching him. When he saw you, he smiled widely and raised his hand to wave at you. He stopped himself when several people turned their attention to him. Turning around, you were wearing the same suit he was wearing. He gave you a thumbs up, pretending to fix your hair. You put your dress back and jumped, sitting on the edge of the tent that was next to him. He raised the phone to his ear, “Hello!” He said smiling broadly at you. You laughed at his little trick of not drawing attention to him. "How are you?" “Are you seriously asking how the angel is doing?” you grinned “Several days have passed, perhaps for you they flew by like 5 minutes, but after all, you were doing something during this time.” “Reasonable. Let's just say did my job." For a moment the smile disappeared from his face. He looked at you, you would even say with sympathy. “Well done, I’m sure you did well” You laughed loudly, clapping your hands together “Are you trying to feel sorry for me now?” you practically rolled around laughing, making him roll his eyes "I do my best" “Well done, you did it well,” you said with the same intonation as him. “Are you teasing me now?” “I do my best” you shook your head, getting to your feet. “You are simply incredible,” he chuckled. “I hear that a lot,” you said, walking around the edge of the tent. “You should go,” you said, pointing at the man who was walking in his direction.

. . .

You were transported to your room, falling onto your bed. “Where has that ill-mannered angel of death gone again!” you heard your mentor’s dissatisfied voice approaching your room. “Oh, there you are!” He said when he saw you “I already thought, you again with this mortal soul” “You seemed angry with me, so I decided not to flash in front of your nose for a while,” you said, throwing your legs up on the wall. “This is all somehow too suspicious. I'm watching you” he looked at you with narrowed eyes.

. . .

You returned to the office having dealt with all your mentor’s orders. You smiled when you found yourself in the office alone. You quickly walked over to your mentor's chair and relaxed, allowing yourself to fall into its softness. You fell through it, falling through the darkness. Did Jinyoung cut himself again, you thought before finding yourself in a room with dim red lights. You stood up, looking around. All the walls and ceiling were covered with Jinyoung's photos. You turned towards the bed and saw Jinyoung lying in his boxers only. You smiled, it didn't look like he had cut himself. His arms and legs were tied to each corner of the bed. His eyes and mouth were blindfolded. You carefully stood on the bed covered with rose petals. You sat on his chest with your legs crossed. Carefully moved the blindfold from his eyes to his forehead. “Are you into roleplay game?” you asked, looking around. You met Jinyoung's gaze, which was filled with fear. “Did you forget your safe word?” you giggled, removing the bandage from his mouth.

“Please save me,” he whispered, barely audible. The fear in his voice was real. You turned towards the locked door.

“I can't free you. Although I can make sure no one comes here before the police arrive,” you said and he sighed with relief.

“Why can’t I feel you even though you’re sitting on my chest?” he whispered

“You forgot, I’m not here” you winked at him, jumping onto the floor and he smiled “A smile is a good sign” you leaned forward looking around the next room. "Shouldn't she be in jail?" You asked pointing to the door behind which was the girl who wanted to stab him.

“So it was that girl who kidnapped me?”

"In case you were wondering, she's cooking dinner."

"This is not normal" Jinyoung muttered

“You’re right, it doesn’t smell very good,” you said, turning in his direction. But he looked at the walls covered with his photographs in horror.

“Oh, about that. Apparently you didn't have a chance to admire the interior. Impressive, isn't it?" you sat on the bed next to him, laying your head on his stomach and looking at the ceiling. “By the way, in case you didn’t notice due to shock, you’re practically naked,” you said, getting back to your feet.

"What the..." his eyes widened

“Shh... unlike me, she can hear you,” you said as he raised his voice. He closed his eyes, trying to fight the anger inside. You jumped onto the bed and sat on the iron headboard that his legs were tied to. “How did you end up here?” you watched him

"Don't know. I was supposed to go to the shoot, but I can’t remember anything after I walked out into the parking lot.” He shook his head, opening his eyes.

“How are you going to save your almost naked ass from this person?” you smiled widely. “If I take this away, no one will believe that you were able to free yourself without tearing your skin to blood.” You pointed to the plastic zip ties around his wrists.

"Phone! Try to find my phone" he said looking around.

You opened the closet hoping that his clothes would be there. “How terrible!” You gasped.

“What's there? What happened?" he whispered worriedly

You pulled out a sweater from the closet, a dirty mustard color with a not-so-good image of a beaver embroidered on it, showing it to Jinyoung. “Her tastes terrible. Brrr...” you shook your head, putting the thing back in the closet.

"You're terrible!" Jinyoung muttered through clenched teeth, trying to fight his laughter. “I'm actually trying to survive here,” he said, chuckling quietly. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Phone"

“Exactly!” you clapped your hands as you walked into the other room. “Found it,” you shouted, placing him on the floor, you pushed him with your foot so that he slipped under the door. You snapped your fingers, stopping time only for the girl as she turned towards the door behind which was Jinyoung. “You can speak calmly,” you said as you passed back to the room. You picked up the phone and turned it on.

“Have you stopped time?” he stared at you

“Only for her. It seemed like she wanted to check on you." You turned on your phone and placed it next to him. "Remember to keep your voice low." You said as he dialed the manager using voice command.

"Quiet. Shhh... hyung shut up" he hissed into the phone when the man practically shouted his name into the phone

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. You pointed to the window when Jinyoung was asked where he was. “I think I saw a yellow restaurant sign through the window before I was blindfolded.” You smiled as he said several similar names before naming the correct one.

“Tell that you think you smell burnt food,” you said and he stared at you, repeating your words. “And also tell them not to call, because you don’t know where the phone is and you’re lucky that it worked on your voice.”

You took the phone when the maneger hung up. You laid him on the floor, kicking him under the nightstands next to the bed. “It’s entirely possible that it fell out of your clothes while she was undressing you.” You smiled, shrugging.

“Would I have died today if you hadn’t shown up?” he asked, meeting your gaze

“No, you wouldn't die. Although you might have gotten a few scars to remember that day while you were trying to escape the trap" you said pointing at his hands

“Why did you say about the smell of burnt food?” he asked when you sat down next to him.

“I told you she was cooking dinner, she burned it. Or rather, this will happen in 10-15 minutes. Just the right moment for her time to start again. Because the food will burn, it will go back to the kitchen and won’t come here, and the smell will be heard even in the entrance. I forgot to tell you, the other room is also completely covered in your photos,” you said, returning to the bed. “I’m surprised by the number of them, but what surprises me even more is that not a single photo is repeated twice,” you pointed to the photos around

He laughed quietly and you looked at him in surprise. “I just remembered your reaction to that sweater with the half-dead beaver,” he whispered. You walked up to the door, tilting your head through the door, snapping your fingers when you smelled smoke. As you thought, she ran back to the kitchen.

“Right? I’m not the only one who thinks this thing is extremely strange. It seems to me that even a beaver would be horrified if they showed him this sweater." You shook your head as you approached the window. "Hurray! Finally, our valiant prince rushed to save his princess from a tower with a fire-breathing dragon." You clapped your hands joyfully when you saw a lot of cars with flashing lights below.

“Am I a princess now?” he smiled widely.

“Why not” you jumped onto the bed and squatted next to his head. “This needs to be returned” you said sliding the blindfold back over your eyes when you heard a loud noise and screams outside the door.

“Are you still around?” he whispered barely audibly

You smiled and took his hand. He squeezed your finger as his body began to shake violently. After several strong blows, the door to the room fell out, falling to the floor. "I found him." the man shouted before entering the room. “Jinyoung.” Can you hear me?" The man said as he removed Jinyoung's blindfold. “Don’t be afraid, I’m from the police. Everything will be fine."

Jinyoung kept his gaze on you as the man cut off his bonds. You winced as Jinyoung groaned in pain as he tried to sit up. “Lay down, the doctor will come now,” the man said, covering Jinyoung with a blanket.

“Oh yeah, it’s right, the blanket will help him deal with the pain,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “Stop giggling!” you said as he turned on his side, towards you. “They’ll think you’re crazy.”

“Isn’t that so? I’m talking to the angel of death, remember?” he winked at you, smiling widely as the man walked away from him.

You jumped to the side when a lot of people appeared and kept asking practically the same questions. “Do they have trouble processing information or is it normal to ask the same questions to someone who has been kidnapped?” You asked, standing on the iron headboard, watching the people who surrounded Jinyoung. Jinyoung covered his mouth with his hand, hiding his smile at your words.

"Anyway... See you!" You said, waving your hand at Jinyoung before vanishing.

_______________________ More Park Jinyoung x Reader: Girl, what more beautiful than moonlight (fluff) Secret (smut) The window (fluff, smut) Ah, that’s what love is! (fluff) Our nights (smut)

Sofa(smut)

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LIST (BTS & GOT7)

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#got7 #got7 jinyoung #got7 x reader #got7 x y/n #got7 x you #jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung #jinyoung #jinyoung x you #jinyoung got7 #park jinyoung got7

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offender42085 · 2 years

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Post 0500

Jason Brown, Indiana inmate 250573, born 1989, incarceration intake in 2022 at age 33, scheduled for release 10/26/2058

Murder, Homicide of an LEO

After waiving a jury trial, a judge found Jason Dane Brown guilty of a murder charge in the deadly shooting of Lt. Aaron Allan on July 27, 2017.

Nearly five years after Southport Lt. Aaron Allan was shot and killed, Jason Dane Brown was sentenced after being found guilty in his murder.

A judge sentenced Brown to 58 years, three of which are suspended, for the deadly shooting of Allan. He was also sentenced to one year for marijuana possession, which will be served concurrently.

Allan was killed while he and an officer with the Homecroft Police Department were responding to a crashed car.

Allan, 38, was reaching in to help Brown when Brown started shooting. Witnesses said Brown continued to fire even as Allan tried to crawl away. Investigators said Allan was shot 11 times.

Other officers who had responded to the scene returned fire, shooting Brown in his face and neck.

After waiving a jury trial, a judge found Brown guilty of murder in the deadly shooting. The prosecutor's office had been seeking the death penalty, but it was removed after Brown asked to waive the jury trial. The judge then ruled during the trial that the prosecution had not established evidence for a life without parole sentence.

During the sentencing hearing, the defense gathered family members and friends to speak on Brown's behalf.

Cierra Brown, Jason's older sister, was present at the hearing and described their childhood about constantly moving, their mother using drugs and their father in prison.

"I know Jason's heart. I know that day was tragic for everyone in Indianapolis. I know he wasn't in his right mind. He wouldn't hurt anybody," Cierra told the judge.

Teresa Brown, Jason's mother, said she didn't know how the accident happened because Jason "was the most cautious driver. We called him a 'granny driver.'"

"He wishes he could tell them how sorry he is. He wishes this never happened. He wishes he never went out that day. All he keeps saying is he's sorry," Teresa said at the sentencing hearing. "It's not who he is. He's so caring, thoughtful, loving and funny."

James Allan, Aaron's father, directly addressed Brown and said, "You knew what you were doing. My son was there to help you, and you took his life. It was your choice. None of us should be here today, but those were your actions."

After hearing from people on both sides, Brown cried while he read a prepared statement: "I'm sorry to the family, friends, coworkers. I woke up that day and didn't intend to harm anyone."

Brown said he grew up without a dad and promised to be the best dad he could be. He said he can't be that now and knows he's the reason Allan can't be the father to his son either.

"I'm so sorry. I'll never forgive myself for what happened on that day. I don't know what happened, and I'll never know, but I'm sorry for your loss, and I'm sorry I caused it," Brown said.

After a break for lunch, Judge Mark Stoner said Brown's history of brain injuries and remorse shown were mitigating factors in the sentencing. However, Stoner said Brown should have never been driving with his head injury history or had access to a gun due to his mental health issues.

"There is nothing you can do to bring Lt. Allan back, but there are positive things you can do for your son and your community," Stoner told Brown before issuing the sentence. "You will serve a significant penalty, but you have to forgive yourself and make something positive out of your life."

According to Stoner, circumstances that led to his sentencing decision included firing 18 shots, hitting Allan 11 times, and killing a police officer, as well as Brown not seeking treatment for known head injuries and mental health issues for fear of losing his driver's license or his drug use being discovered.

"The sentence imposed today provides finality to the criminal matter and our thoughts remain with Stacy, the family, and the Southport Police Department during this difficult time. We will continue to honor the legacy and sacrifice of Lt. Aaron Allan," Prosecutor Ryan Mears said in a statement.

Allan's parents also spoke with media after the verdict in February, 2022.

"The judge definitely was listening, as convoluted as this case has been, and the extent of the roller coaster ride that we've been taken on, I'd like to feel that justice will be served," James said.

"I'm thankful for the judge at least giving us this. Hopefully, he'll never see the outside of the bars ever," said Laurie Lowry, Aaron's mother. "I miss him as much today as I did the day he died. But hopefully now Aaron can rest."

His past criminal history includes a 30-day sentence for possession of a controlled substance. He was also convicted of driving on a suspended license.

In closing arguments during the murder trial, the prosecution argued Brown was likely on drugs when he shot and killed Allan.

The defense argued Brown had suffered a seizure and was not in control of his actions.

The judge ultimately decided that, while Brown may or may not have known Allan was an officer, Brown knew what he was doing when he pulled his gun and fired it multiple times.

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aoyama-division · 1 year

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Luis's Thoughts on Katsushika Division

Akihisa Mashiro

"...I don't fully know much about my father's time in the army. I know he was a decorated general, but as for what he actually did during his time in the war, that's something I know nothing about. And quite frankly, I don't think I want to know. But I do know he may or may not have had to do a lot of unscrupulous things. I'm not foolish, ya' know. I know that in war, you have to do things that you're not proud of. But like I stated, I don't know much about my father's time while he was serving."

"But I do know that he made an enemy out of this man, Mashiro Akihisa. Apparently, my father and Tomi's led him into a trap and had him captured by Chuohku. I don't know whether my father did it to protect his reputation, to save his own skin from Chuohku, or because he felt intimidated by this man. But when my father heard that he was free, he was one of the many who opposed the Prime Minister's decision. Peh, a lot of good opposing it did..."

Touya Kisaragi

"I remember this kid. It was a busy night at my restaurant, and while I was cooking, one of the staff members said they saw a vagrant or something scrounging around in the trash outside. Now for those of you that don't know me, let me state for the record: I have nothing against the homeless, vagrants, orphans, or people who are less fortunate. In fact, I always try to provide a helping hand to those if I can. I'm not a saint or an angel, of course, but I feel if you can provide a little kindness here and there, then you're making the world a better place."

"But this kid... if it were anyone else, I would have gladly welcomed them into my place for a bite to eat. But when I saw his face, I instantly knew who it was. The one who had been killing all of those people throughout Japan. I was tempted to call the police on him, but instead, I just chased him away. I don't know why, maybe I was still in shock because I didn't think I'd actually see the Sweetheart Killer eating out of my trash. But anyway, I put a lock on the dumpster and went back into the shop. I didn't see him again, after that. And I'm not at all sad about that."

Rintaro Himura

Luis's eyes turn red and a glare appears on his face as he stares at the photo of the pyromaniac. "This bastardo... he almost took the life of my Abuela. You all recall how Tomi said that several city blocks here in Aoyama were burned to the ground? Well, this bastardo is the reason for that. I don't know how, but there was so much fire everywhere, it was like a scene out of hell. And in one of those city blocks... was my Abuela's house." Luis is steadily losing his composure.

"Thankfully, she wasn't home when the fires occurred. But... she had lost her home. Everything that she had owned. Her pictures, her wedding dress, her childhood memories... all of them were lost, burnt to the fucking ground! And all because of this maldito bastardo! He didn't care about any of the lives he destroyed! And I don't rightly care for them, myself. But no one messes with my grandmother!"

"You claim to love fire, Himura? Well, I'll show you just how dangerous fire is, you follador. I'll show you a side of fire you've never seen before. You think the fire you suffered during your childhood was bad? No, compañero. That fuego was nothing. I'll show you fire like you've never seen before. That's right, boyo: you and me, we're taking a one-way trip to Infierno. And when, if you return, we'll see if you'll have the gall to ever look at another flame again."

Death Row Block

"Like Tomi and Karada mentioned, the Prime Minister is making a mistake setting these men free. ...But I suppose that is none of my business. I simply hope that once these men commit a crime, she will be prepared to accept the consequences of her actions. But that is neither here, nor there."

"If these men wish to fight, then I will gladly accommodate them. ...And as for you, Himura..."

Luis lights a cigarette and looks at the screen, his face and eyes red as he speaks with a fervor that you only hear when he is trying to contain the rage inside him.

"Quise decir lo que dije, bastardo. Pagarás caro por casi matar a mi abuela. El infierno tiene un lugar especial para personas como tú, Himura. Y te voy a enviar personalmente allí."

"Así que mientras tanto, te sugiero que aprecies tu libertad mientras puedas. Porque cuando nos encontremos en el D.R.B., te prometo que la muerte estará esperando. Dios te ha juzgado. Y yo soy su verdugo."

("I meant what I said, you bastard. You will pay dearly for nearly killing my grandmother. Hell has a special place for people like you, Himura. And I'm going to personally send you there.")

("So in the meantime, I suggest you cherish your freedom while you can. Because when we meet in the D.R.B., I promise you, Death will be waiting. God has judged you. And I am his executioner.")

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #luis kōkyū #katsushika division #akihisa mashiro #touya kisaragi #rintaro himura

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king-carnivore-creations · 2 years

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My mom passed away Wednesday, January 18th, 2023 at 11:58 AM. Her surgery went well, but in recovery everything went wrong. Pneumonia led to a heart attack that lead to strokes that led to her body shutting down.

This was my first experience with death and I learned two things from it.

Dying is loud and painful. Dying is heart monitors and IV machines constantly beeping. Dying is deafening oxygen masks and ventilators. It's moments when you know they're not going to make it, but your heart still hopes anyway. There is nothing you can do but watch as the person you love wastes away, becoming a shell of a human. Watching skin that was once warm and pink swell and discolor and grow cold even though their heart is still pumping. There's something so surreal to it. Your mind can't accept what you know is a fact: this person is dying and there is nothing you can do about it. It pierces the silence louder than any "I love you"s that get no response, than sobs so heavy it leaves your bones aching. There is no grace to dying. No romance or beauty. Dying is the flash of light as lightning illuminates the black, with endless seconds of anticipation, waiting for the crack of thunder overhead to shatter the steady rhythm of rain. Dying is opening your eyes to the sun after having them closed for so long, blinding and sharp, and as your vision fades, you are left startled and confused, suddenly unable to feel the world around you, trapped in a white numbness. Loud, painful, blinding, confusing, heartbreaking, endless.

Death is quiet and sleepy. Death is the soft light of a barely lit hospital room. Death is unbearable silence after the monitors are turned off and the ventilator is disconnected. It is the quiet "I love you"s whispered as your loved one takes their last breaths. The moment is only minutes, but it feels like forever. The world stops as the light of dead stars watch overhead, taking a deep breath with you as the moment passes. The dull roar of space is sleepy and comforting, a reminder that we are all stardust once and will become stardust again. Death is just a horizon, the limit to what we can understand as our existence, and what lies beyond it is vast and unknown and welcoming. Death is gentle in its indifference, settling quiet in the empty chair, waiting patiently for the right moment to come forth and collect, to shepherd the dearly departed to the next stage of our eternity in the universe. Death is the winter sunset of a vast open sky, painted in solacing and reserved pastels, the void between light partially filled with stars, the sun sinking behind the horizon with such muteness it feels motionless. Death is the overhead of streetlights passing across the car windows, streets and parking lots uneasily barren and liminal, the world around you asleep but awake, contained in this curiously fragile and drowsy state, your breathing as quiet as the midnight, the silence sacred. Quiet, sleepy, patient, motionless, finite.

Death and dying are intertwined for eternity, coexisting patiently beside life and living. We all die. But death is not as scary as I originally thought. Death gives a release, an end to the pain of dying. It is not so much the end of a life but the transition between worlds. Our lives do not continue to forever but our memory continues on like a dying star. The light we produce shines on long after we are gone and will be seen eons away by people who never knew us. We ingrain ourselves into others, whether we know it or not, and it influences every thought, decision and action they make. And they will do the same when their time comes. This cycle continues on, sending ripples of light across the universe until the end of time. A pulse of love and light and stardust creating galaxies in the image of our fingerprints.

Life may not continue on forever, but death is not the end of existence.

We are endless.

#death #dying #tw death #tw dying #loss of a parent #loss of a loved one #my writing #writing #vent writing #carnivore talks

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alyjojo · 1 year

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The Person On Your Mind in April 🐓 2023 - Sagittarius

Whole of their energy towards Sagittarius: Page of Cups rev

They don’t think the nicest things, based on however they knew you in the past, this is definitely a past person. They could’ve had feelings for you, and you broke their heart. Either because you literally juggled them and someone else, or they had hoped you’d be something that lasted but you were a player. They see you as immature.

Feelings: Strength rev & 7 Cups

Their feelings are that you held back from them because you were busy being indulgent and chasing lots of options in the past. You pulling XXX on your side kinda shows where your head was at…maybe still is? You can’t change? Maybe don’t want to. This also shows them as having held back from you in the past for the same reasons. They did want you, or wished for you, and are nostalgic about you because they’re coming back around. But they still think you’re a player. If you are then you are, and they’re barking up the wrong tree. Simple 🙏

Intentions: 5 Cups

They intend to to do nothing but ask themselves “what could have been?”, because they do. They’re sad how things have changed between you, or wherever your paths have led since, they miss you and wish you were around. They want to come back around and expect to be disappointed. There’s this feeling of “a lot has changed”, I don’t know what specifically, your side doesn’t indicate much, so I assume that’s them.

Actions: Knight of Swords

They will be coming back around to talk to you. I don’t see love, but communication and truth is here. They could be telling you they’re single, giving you a shot if you want it? Maybe. More so, they’re fine on their own, they’ve healed, and don’t seem to be bothered one way or the other how you respond. Probably because they’ve already emotionally prepared for the worst and expect little. Your cards aren’t very convincing anything is going to happen here, if anything, you could just be giving this person some necessary closure.

Messages:

Their side:

- Quietly observing

- Excellent cook 🍲

- I’m always thinking about our memories.

Your side:

- XXX

- I can’t change

- Outside Advice

Possible signs:

Scorpio, Pisces, Virgo & Libra

If you’re dealing with:

King of Wands & The World show you being comfortable in your energy, as a leader, you’re someone people gravitate to and willingly follow because you’re good natured, confident & charming. You’re at the end of a major cycle in your life, probably involving some of these people on some level.

Aries - glad you’re not speaking, they’re over it & moving on to other things

Taurus - loves you deeply and helps you with practical things, could be a family member

Gemini - defensive of your growth, beauty or status, could be defending themselves, or they’re defending a mother/wife/children or that’s switched

Cancer - they’ve put a lot of work and effort into something they’re waiting to reap the rewards from, could have something for you

Leo - gifting you something & flexing their cash

Virgo - talking to you about some decision they’re needing to make, probably trying to get others opinions before doing the thing

Libra - recognizing they’ve waited for nothing, or could care less because they are happy, could go either way with them

Scorpio - feels the fair thing has happened due to the past or did in the past, they’re on to other things now, kinda similar to Aries vibe

Sagittarius - a painful ending in betrayal due to overindulgence, could be this person. Something with alcohol/drugs could’ve been involved in whatever this was.

Capricorn - there’s a new beginning, dates, possible love with them, but they’re not exactly optimistic about it

Aquarius - going through something difficult in their family or this relationship, could be a run of bad luck or something negatively karmic, whatever it is has an ending attached - Death

Pisces - they’re passionate about you but also unsure, or they think you’re a player, could be this person

#bzbz weekend #sagittarius tarot reading #person on your mind #april 2023 #Sagittarius #tarot #tarotblr

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tdowning79 · 2 years

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I’ll never forget when my first son entered the toddler years. Everyone else’s toddlers were tantrum-throwing little maniacs, but not mine. Oh, no! I just knew he wasn’t going to display such unsightly behavior. But, he did. He kicked. He screamed. He tested limits and he refused to listen. He did all the cringe-worthy things that other toddlers had done that I judged the moms for. How silly I was to think I could stop those troubling toddler meltdowns with my superb parenting. Sigh. I was terribly mistaken and humbled. You see, no matter how hard we try, no matter how many books we read, strategies we use, or discipline tactics we use we simply cannot control our children’s actions. It’s such a bummer! Sure, we can guide them in the right direction and offer consequences so the wrong direction seems less appealing, but ultimately we can’t choose for them. We have been given and they have been given, Heaven help us, our own right to choose. They have free will to do as they please. And they will not always make decisions that please us. Especially when we’re in the checkout line at Target. And because our children get to make their own choices about the way they live, we have to learn to refute the lie that we, their moms, are responsible for every decision they make. It’s an insidious little lie that gets in there. Our children are responsible for their own lives, their own choices, and the blessings or consequences that result from those choices. Just like we are. What mothers are responsible for is instructing them well and leaving it up to them when it's the right time. Here’s what I mean. In Joshua 24:14-15, Joshua is addressing the nation of Israel before his death. He had led the nation into the promised land decades earlier and had remained their leader ever since. Now, he was about to pass his mantle on to someone else. But before he did, he spoke a few words to the people. He said: “Now fear the Lord and serve him with all faithfulness. Throw away the gods your ancestors worshiped beyond the Euphrates River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you.... https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp2PhN7OHwI/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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gladerscake · 3 years

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Flustered

(Gally x Reader)

So this idea popped into my head and I was like “Immediately yes. Immediately yes.” I had to write it asap, it was too cute not to. Enjoy!

Gally’s return had left you more shaken up than anything had in months. You’d been nothing short of stupefied when his mask dropped to the ground and you couldn’t fathom how you had managed to keep your composure and preserve a stoic expression.

Gally was back and he was going to help you.

That was one sentence you hadn’t imagined to ever emerge in your mind, yet somehow, it was reality.

Despite so many conflicting emotions coursing through you, one intercepting another, you could easily spot the one emotion you weren’t feeling. Anger. There wasn’t an ounce of it in you, not towards Gally anyway. You weren’t sure if you were ready to jump into his arms and tackle him in a hug, but you definitely didn’t feel the itch to punch his lights out.

Your eyes remained on Gally’s broad back as he led you and your friends through the base, passing by soldiers and other lucky survivors alike, on the way to meet Lawrence. It was hard to predict what that man could be like, but if he had played a part in saving Gally’s life, that alone was enough for you to be thankful.

You and Gally hadn’t really had the chance to spend a lot of time together in the glade, but the time you did remember spending with him stirred no negative feelings for you.

He may not have been the most amicable or open-hearted guy in the place, but he was no asshole and he was no bully. Gally was headstrong, intelligent and fiercely passionate about protecting what he had come to see as his home, including all the people in it. The few encounters you’d had with him personally had opened your eyes to it.

You remembered how you had gathered the courage to approach him after he’d locked Thomas up in the pit. You wanted to talk. He intrigued you. You wanted to understand, to try and see things from Gally’s point of view, to get to the bottom of why he was acting the way he was. Though Thomas had advised you to stay away from him, made him sound like an impossible jerk, you’d had a nagging feeling there was more to him than that, and you were right.

You remembered how, after a few initial irritated remarks, he had realized that you were only trying to figure out what would be the right thing to do, the right path to take. You weren’t looking to cause more trouble, you were looking for someone to help you see the picture a bit more clearly, and Gally had decided to take it upon himself to be that someone. It hadn’t taken him too long to make you see just how little you all knew about what really might have been going on beyond the maze walls, what a complete shot in the dark your “freedom” could be and the enormity of the risk you’d be taking by choosing Thomas as your guiding star.

Gally… You always saw him as a leader. Maybe not the leader, like Alby, but a leader nonetheless. And being a leader meant making tough decisions so that others didn’t have to. Even at the cost of being seen as the bad guy. Though you couldn’t deny that his actions towards the end had been a bit… extreme, you knew he had simply run out of options. He’d been scared, lost, desperate for it all to be over and he was doing the one thing he thought would put an end to it and ultimately save the most people.

Gally’s “death” had hit you harder than it had anyone else, or so it seemed like. You had been the only one to shed tears over him and really feel his absence. You had missed him. You’d had dreams and nightmares about him. You’d heard his voice telling you to get up and keep going every time you felt like giving up.

It was clear as day that you felt something for him. You weren’t quite certain of the nature or the extent of your feelings, but there was no ignoring them. And now that Gally had swooped back into your life, perhaps it was a sign. Maybe you still had time to figure it out.

“Listen…”

Gally’s deep voice reached your ears as he briefly stopped and turned to look at all of you.

“He doesn’t get a lot of visitors, so let me do the talking. Okay…? And try not to stare.” He warned before walking off again.

You exchanged confused looks with Newt and Brenda but nevertheless followed Gally, your curiosity heightening.

Your brow propped up upon entering a dimly lit but strangely put-together room. In the midst of the chaos you all lived in, it looked almost tidy, next to normal. You eyes scanned over the surplus of bookshelves, the pictures hanging up, the various plants placed on every corner, the radio that looked like it may very well have been working.

And then your eyes landed on him.

With Gally’s warning in mind, you made sure that no muscle twitched on your face, because now you understood why he had given it.

Half-man, half-crank… You had seen infected people before, but none of them had been this bad. His appearance suggested he was too far gone to even speak in coherent sentences, yet he was managing just fine. Evidently he had the serum in his IV to thank for that.

“Gally.” The man addressed the former builder.

Gally regarded him with a curt nod, a resolute glint burning in his bluish-green eyes. It didn’t escape your notice, the way he carried himself, with such grounded confidence, it was impossible not to follow his every move.

“Glad to see you made it back. Jasper told me what happened.”

You watched Gally clench his jaw, hooking his hands to the front of his body armor as he stood tall, eyeing Lawrence without an inkling of hesitancy.

“It was a slaughter. There’s nothing we can do against those guns…” He shrugged his burly shoulders as the man nodded in understanding.

“No… But they can only poke the hornets nest for so long before they get stung.” He drew out, bringing a plucked rose up to his practically nonexistent nose and inhaling its sweet scent.

It was then that he decided to acknowledge the rest of you as well.

“Now, who are these people? Why are they here?” He inquired with a hint of skepticism.

Gally opened his mouth to explain when, to your slight annoyance, Thomas spoke up instead.

“We need to get into Wicked.” Your dark-haired friend stepped forth “Gally said you could get us through those walls.”

You bit back a scowl as you grabbed onto his arm, discreetly yet firmly endeavoring to pull him back. Typical Thomas. Though he was a dear friend, you had to admit, his reoccurring need to do the opposite of what he’s told occasionally got on your nerves.

“Get back here…!” You gritted out through clenched teeth, involuntarily taking a step closer to Lawrence as well and finding yourself forced to look directly at him.

You didn’t deem it necessary to attempt a smile, but you did make sure to erase any sign of nervousness from your expression as you looked up at the infected man.

A slither of uneasiness crawled up your spine when Lawrence’s gaze lingered on your face, a quiet hum trailing from his mouth. Weirdly, in that moment he appeared more interested in you than in Thomas and his attempt to get his attention.

“You must be Y/N…” He assumed, thoughtfully, rolling his IV beside him as he got a bit closer.

Your eyes widened in spite of your efforts to keep a neutral facade. He knew your name? How? There was only one way you could think of for him to know it, and that would be if a certain someone had brought it up before… Your silent question was promptly answered as Lawrence’s next words left him easily, as if they were the most natural thing in the world, his intent gaze attaining an unexpected spark of admiration.

“Gally said you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but I couldn’t imagine…”

Your heart flipped in your chest, your cheeks heating up in a flash. He said what? You immediately glanced over to Gally and had to suppress the giggle that almost escaped you at the look of horror that abruptly plastered his face.

“Lawrence…!” He hissed, a blooming pink painting his cheeks as his eyes avoided you at all costs, darting between the man and the floor, his hands clutching his vest in a slightly tighter grip.

Lawrence merely chuckled at the flustered looks on both your and Gally’s faces, he blatantly found it amusing.

“Kids…” You heard him breathily mutter before veering his attention back to the dark-haired boy who apparently had something very urgent to discuss.

“What was that, you were saying…?”

~~~~~

During the negotiation with Lawrence it had been decided that you, Thomas and Newt were to venture into the city with Gally, while Frypan, Brenda and Jorge stayed behind. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best you could hope for, you weren’t quite in a position where you could push your luck making demands.

You and Gally were the last ones to walk out of Lawrence’s lair, the others slightly ahead of you as they soaked up the plan, taking turns reassuring each other that it was all going to be just fine.

Your eyes couldn’t help flickering over to Gally as he walked beside you. He was still doing his earnest to look everywhere but at you, which a part of you found utterly adorable. Almost too adorable for Gally, at least the one you remembered.

Luckily, after a couple of minutes he must’ve decided that anything would be better than the tense silence that hung in the air between the two of you.

Sure, there were many things you needed to talk about, but now was not a good option. There wasn’t enough time to even begin unpacking all of it just yet, so the heavier stuff would have to wait.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what Lawrence said…” Gally began with a quiet huff “I didn’t think he would remember that.”

Your lips curved with a timid grin as you looked up at his face, his cheeks once again dusted with a light rosy shade. It wasn’t something you had anticipated, but knowing that Gally had talked about you so fondly during his time there coaxed an unfamiliar warmth to spread in your chest.

“Why are you sorry? It wasn’t an insult - quite the opposite…” You let out a soft chuckle as Gally finally got the courage to land his piercing gaze on you.

It felt like he was trying so hard to pick his words, like he had so much to say but struggled to find the way to do it.

It didn’t surprise you. Although you didn’t know exactly what was going through his mind, it had to be a lot. The odds of ever being reunited with you had been minuscule, yet, it happened.

“Yeah, it’s just…” He shrugged, briefly looking ahead to make sure your friends didn’t wander too far off “Someone here kept asking me if there was anyone I was hoping to see again. If I had anyone out there.”

You looked at him more closely now, carefully studying his expression.

It occurred to you how lonely the past few months must have been for Gally, separated from the only friends he’d ever known, left to find his own way around this crumbled world without anyone who truly cared about him by his side.

Gally sent you a tight-lipped smile, a faint light crossing his irises “I guess it got me talking about you. Well… All of you.”

All of you… Right. Your grin inadvertently widened before you could stop it, a slight heat creeping up your cheeks.

“I’m flattered you mentioned me. I mean… all of us.”

You hadn’t meant to tease, but the knowing edge to your tone at the last bit caused Gally to clear his throat in an attempt to subdue his growing shyness.

All he could muster in response was a firm nod as he began to pick up his pace to catch up the the others.

You refused to fall behind, staying on him until he led you into a smaller room with what looked to be a covered pothole right in the middle.

Vaguely registering him saying something about needing to go grab a couple of things, you swiftly turned before he could walk away.

“Gally…”

You called out just loudly enough for it to reach him.

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of your voice. Hearing his name trail from your lips felt undeniably good as he looked over to you with a slight hesitance.

You wanted him to know he wasn’t alone in this. You had thought about him, too. More times than you would probably admit to him out loud, but enough to let the words out with little to no effort.

Your eyes brimmed with warm sincerity as you looked at him.

“I missed you, too.”

Gally remained still for a moment, a mix of confusion and relief swirling in his gaze.

You watched the corner of his mouth twitch with the beginnings of a smile, you could practically sense the tension slowly leaving his body.

The words that sounded so simple clearly held a deeper impact for Gally, especially coming from you.

The look on his face told you enough.

It was more than he had hoped to hear.

Gally’s features softened, much to your contentment, as he gave you a small but nonetheless genuine smile. The first one you thought you’d ever seen from him but already wanted to see more of.

The road ahead wasn’t going to be easy, that much was obvious. However, for the first time in a while, you felt truly hopeful. Not for mere survival but for something more, something with a purpose beyond just “making it out alive”.

One thing you were absolutely certain of…

You couldn’t let that be the last time you’d see a blush on Gally’s face.

Tags: @obsessivelycapricious @magnoliabloomfield @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @anniemylennox @gallysonegoodlung @joemomma2121 @lattsgocaps @sherbertscarrothead-2 @lullabaesstuff @crazysheeplyca @thesuitkovian @lefreyja @blanknamed

#the maze runner #tmr gally #gally imagine #gally x reader #the death cure #tmr #gally x fem!reader #gladers #tmr imagine #gally x y/n #gally x you #tmr x reader #tmr gally imagine #gally fanfic #gally oneshot #gally fluff #gally tmr #will poulter

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