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heretherebedork · 6 hours
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I just keep thinking about how Yuan had already faced his own death with the avalanche, had thought he was going to die but came out the other side thinking about Qian and then how he offered himself to Le for the game first because all he wanted to do was protect Qian and how Qian tried to teach him to fight so he could protect himself but Yuan truly never learned to fight because his experience with fighting was watching Qian hurt for him, watching Qian bleed for him, and so he never did that.
Yuan faced his own death and his love for Qian and he accepted that his world is Yuan but he still carries that trauma inside him, that hurt that he blames himself, the way Qian bled for him is written on his soul just as much as his love for Qian is written in every moment he keeps on living.
This is a bond written in the blood shed and in abandonment and in being found and in being seen and in holding up the world when it comes crashing down because the world will never end as long as Yuan has Qian, as long as Qian is there at their home in the end.
Qian is facing how easily his life could have been without Yuan and without him ever knowing and facing how they have shaped each other and facing that, yes, Yuan would hold the world up for him if it came crashing down because that is why Yuan went to Le and why Yuan takes care of him, because Qian is the world and Yuan will hold him up no matter what it takes.
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fancy-clam · 1 day
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jack kelly (i'm starting a union) vs. jack kelly (davey you're the brains please help me Please)
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neil-gaiman · 9 months
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So this was the unanswered messages in my ask box a couple of days ago:
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and this is the unanswered messages in my ask box today,
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and I'm incredibly grateful to everyone who has said such nice things about the season, and I'm sorry to everyone who had emotions they weren't expecting, and I'm impressed that so many of you have theories and don't plan to answer, validate or really even comment on any of them, but mostly I'm just sorry because I probably won't read whatever you've sent, not because I don't want to but because if I was doing nothing but reading Tumblr asks as a full time job I still wouldn't catch up with the thousands of asks coming in.
I'm glad you care.
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thepeacefulgarden · 7 months
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dduane · 6 months
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Scholastic blinks
Via Cole Haddon on Twitter, who summarizes: “‘We did not anticipate authors and other reasonable people would take issue with our totally well-thought-out plans to segregate the stories of people of color and other marginalized groups away from the books that make cishet white people feel the world was made just for them.’"
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adzy-drawz · 6 months
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man that digital circus thing am i right
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euovennia · 1 year
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headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)
anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3
pt. 2
fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:
let's get one thing straight
becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task
while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend
the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone
i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself
and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone
but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack
cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before
naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave
but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare
think 👁️👁️
he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him
it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"
to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)
but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."
he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"
he does not spit it out
from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him
the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him
these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking
he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it
and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own
and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is
so what does he do?
he tries to block you out
it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity
and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)
and the two of you become quite chummy
well
as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost
instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you
it's a surprise
a delightful one
but still a surprise
his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is
despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts
so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold
it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!
anyway
simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic
you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it
he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off
he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover
but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself
maybe having a friend isn't all that bad
and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue
until one day you don't show up
while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now
you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry
even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?
but you don't show up the next day
or the next
and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry
and a little sad and worried
but mostly angry
who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)
if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face
he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room
he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you
but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks
you got yourself sick
tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you
which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine
you nearly cry in your haze of sickness
you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much
ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship
it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days
but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday
which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks
but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"
and most times you say yes
but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)
but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free
gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man
when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary
like
imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling
i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway
it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it
like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in
and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand
cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."
then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot
it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you
especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission
you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment
seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?
and honestly?
you're not quite sure yourself
you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to
maybe one day you'll ask him yourself
maybe you won't
doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend
even if he doesn't refer to you as the same
he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same
regardless
you two are very much attached at the hip
what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person
he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem
soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him
gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door
price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out
it's sweet really, the friendship you have
it warms your heart thinking about it
and it warms his too
even if he won't admit it
he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to
because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend
and he's glad it's you
:)
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lesbiamano · 9 days
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FINEEE i'll draw your stupid greek mythology people
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uniformshark · 2 years
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which SHREMP mood are you today?
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ahhlehlehlehleh · 1 year
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me: I’m going to take it easy with art, not gonna rush myself, just do it as a relaxing thing.
friend: Happy May the 4rth! :DD
me: SHOOT SHOOT SHOT SHAAK F
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months
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catpriciousmarjara · 6 months
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Okay so there's this dp x dc tumblr post about the JL finding the Ghost King's family tree or something and lots of misunderstandings happening but I can't find it anymore and would be grateful if someone would send it to me... Anyhow I was inspired by it and this is the result!
Also on ao3 if you wanna check it out there!
The Family Tree
"So you're telling me this is just a family tree?", Green Lantern asked with a frown on his face.
Bruce could see Constantine's eyes twitching at that question. As always, leave it to Hal Jordan to annoy people.
"This isn't just anything", the sorcerer said with narrowed eyes. "It's a Class-X magical artifact. If this thing is used as a focus for a ritual, the magnitude of magical energy would rise by at least 80 factors. For those of you non-magical or unfamiliar with magic, that's fucking huge."
Beside him Zatanna nodded, her gaze still fixed on the ancient manuscript. She hadn't taken her eyes off the scroll for more than a minute since she got to the Watch Tower and first saw it spread out on the containment room table. Constantine was the same. Captain Marvel was not present, working along with Superman, Hawkgirl, and Aquaman on a case, but his reactions have always been dissimilar from his magical colleagues, so his case might be anywhere between staying the hell away from it to trying to inhale it.
It was clear to Bruce that Zatanna coveted it, but was sensible and cautious enough to stay away from it. Constantine had no sense so he was a tossup. From where he was standing between Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter, the Gotham vigilante resolved to keep an eye on the two magicians. They most likely won't try to steal the artifact, considering the heavy dose of 'not messing with that thing' overshadowing the desire to possess it, but the scroll itself might be enchanted to encourage covetous feelings on those nearby. It wouldn't be the first time. Better safe than sorry.
It was Diana that stepped up towards the two JL Dark members to seek more clarification. As both a Demigod and as someone familiar with magic, she was usually the one taking point on such issues.
She gestured to the scroll innocently sitting inside the runic circle the two mages had constructed around it. "You have told us that the artifact is not destructive, that it is merely a record, and that the information it contains is not a spell, or a runic arrangement, or a magic circle. You have also told us that the strange energy readings coming from it are mostly due to the material it's made out of than any catastrophic sorcery enchanted into it. You have at last decoded it as a record of a family tree. Yet it is dangerous, a Class-X relic as you've said. Given all this information, I suppose the correct question to ask here is this: why is a family tree capable of raising magical energy output by 80 factors?"
The two magicians looked at each other. Zatanna finally pried her eyes away from the scroll and faced the room.
"Magic is a force that simultaneously has laws but at the same time adheres to none. It's confusing to explain but for the time being just keep that in mind."
She walked to the center of the room, followed by Constantine, visibly trying to collect her words. Bruce prepared himself for a complicated explanation and activated another one of the batsuit's recorders. He felt the urge to sigh, for a supposed unchained force, Magic was needlessly complex at times, and practically incomprehensible to non-magicals.
At the front, Zatanna took a deep breath and began.
"As you know there are multiple dimensions. But magical dimensions come under a different category. Depending on the overall magical potential of a particular magical dimension, we call it the World State Stable Thaumaturgical Output Capacity, we can classify these dimensions in grades and levels, as either higher or lower, with relation to each other. These levels are dependent on a multitude of variables like space, time, gravity, Events, Proximity, etc and as such are non-linear, and unfixed. That's the first thing."
Bruce could practically see the capitals on the last two. Looks like they would need to hold another meeting to clarify a lot of these concepts. Seeing the dawning of lost expressions on some of the members however, Bruce mentally amended that to many future meetings.
Zatanna continued. "Magical objects from higher dimensions become stronger in lower ones. The inverse is also true. This is all in relation to the Overture and the same polarity orientation of course but we don't need to get into that now-"
On the contrary Bruce thought they really needed more explanation on all of that.
"-In simple terms, a child's toy from a higher dimension could become the focus for an apocalyptic ritual in a much lower dimension, while an apocalyptic artifact from a lower dimension might as well be paperweight in a sufficiently higher one. There are ways around it, but if those methods are not implemented, then this is how it generally goes. The larger the level difference, the higher the power."
Now that wasn't concerning at all. Bruce really needed to update his contingency plans regarding magic.
Constantine continued from where Zatanna left off, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here.
"The second thing is that when it comes to magic, things that are indefinable or unquantifiable become definable and quantifiable. Stuff like love, hate, happiness, despair, fate, necessity, authority? All measurable. Not always needed of course, But definitely possible and frequently used in a variety of magical fields."
The sorcerer leaned against a nearby chair. "One such thing is Significance. The magic contained in true names for instance is mostly based on significance. A true name is significant to you, its a doorway to your soul, and therefore it holds power. Significance is also what we call a positive, additive factor in magic. In the absence of interfering variables, significance as a quantity is directly proportional to magical output. In other words-"
"-the more significant an object or an event, the higher the magical energy output, and consequently higher the magical power", J'onn finished. He looked towards the scroll. "The information recorded on it, the family tree as you've said, valuable in significance, most likely in terms of whose family it's a record of. In addition, the artifact is from a higher dimension with relation to ours, and that has a cumulative effect."
"Yeah exactly", said Constantine with a raised eyebrow. "Which means that if that hypothetical toy Zatanna mentioned? If that happened to be important enough, like a first toy, or a cherished gift or something like that, its significance increases, its potential increases, and in the right hands, or in the wrong hands really, that potential could be harnessed at a lower level."
There was a bout of thoughtful silence as they absorbed all of the information.
But Bruce felt as if he had been quiet enough and took the chance to ask a question of his own. "You mentioned something called the Overture, and polarity orientation. What do they mean?"
Constantine just sighed. "For fuck's sake Batsy those things aren't really important to the discussion..."
Bruce just stared.
..."Fine", the mage said in defeat. "There are many names for it, the Overture, Exordium, Legerdomain, Nascence...but the most accepted two are the Beforebirth, and the Womb. It's not a something as much as it's a someplace, but then again it's not really a place either. Simply put it's the birthplace of Magic, where it all began and all that. It can't be accessed without the Key and that's been lost for a long time. It's actually a mission for many magicals to find it you know? A holy quest for a lot of them. Some of them are straight up crazy though."
Bruce field that information safely away. Figure out a plan to combat fanatic magicians trying to find the birthplace of magic for sinister reasons. "And polarity?"
"Well", Zatanna began, "its how magic is classified according to the nature of...magic? Or rather the essence? It's hard to put in mundane terms...Anyhow broadly speaking there are two main polarities, the Obverse, and the Reverse."
For a moment, she struggled with the explanation before brightening, seemingly having found an idea.
"Picture a number line, but like on the y-axis! Zero is the Overture, Obverse dimensions are the positive number side, and Reverse dimensions are the negative numbers! The higher up the obverse dimension, the larger its magical output! Similarly, the lower down the reverse dimension, the higher its magical output."
Bruce had hardly parsed through that when their resident speedster spoke up.
"Guys", the red clad hero said, "I feel like we missed the obvious follow up question after Ollie over here...like I feel like this is important, but where exactly is the scroll from?"
As one everyone turned towards the artifact.
Constantine grimaced and Zatanna winced. They looked at each other as if asking who wanted to bite the bullet. Finally it looked as if Constantine lost. The sorcerer cursed under his breath.
"Well which dimension is the scroll from?", asked Wonder Woman.
Constantine took what looked like a fortifying breath.
"It's from the Infinite Realms."
Silence.
"What?", the Green Lantern asked intelligently.
"It's from the Infinite Realms. As in Infinite. As in end of the figurative fucking line, number line whatever!"
Everyone stared at the magicians as understanding slowly dawned.
There was what was essentially a magical nuke in the Watch Tower.
"Now", began Martian Manhunter, "this is unfortunate".
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classycookiexo · 5 months
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cosqf · 5 months
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top 10 rawest book quotes
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anerol152 · 7 months
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d0youc0py · 11 months
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You had spent the night in your car. You hoped by now he had sobered up. Hell, he was probably still asleep. The sun was rising, not that you enjoyed its pale blue color. Your eyes throbbed. You had barely slept, and while you were awake you did nothing but cry.
You turned your car on.
You didn’t want to go back. He could still be drinking. He could be passed out in the living room. He could be out looking for you. He could not care at all. You didn’t believe that last one. You knew without a doubt Simon loved you more than anything. Last night was the first time he’d ever shown you something different. You hoped he was worried. Pacing the floor. Wondering what the hell he did last night. Buckling your seatbelt you headed back to your shared flat, with no clue what was in store for you- but you knew one thing: he was going to have to work hard to make it up to you.
•••••••••••••••••
You had barely opened the door before he was on you. His knees hitting the ground with a loud thump, two powerful arms gripping your waist. His hands clawed at the back of your shirt, pressing you suffocatingly close to him.
Your exterior was already faltering. You stopped your hands from digging in his hair, telling him you forgave him- but yell at him to never do it again. He was mumbling into your stomach. You maneuvered the both of you so you could get the door shut.
“Simon?” You questioned slowly. You couldn’t understand a word, or see his face. Your shirt began to feel wet. His whole body was quivering as he dug himself closer to you. He pulled his mouth away from your stomach, but you were still only able to catch every other word. You sighed and cupped his face in your hands forcing him to look at you.
You winced as a sharp pain stabbed you right in the heart.
He looked worse than you’d hope. You thought you’d take a little joy from it- seeing him feel bad. You were wrong.
His molten eyes were bright red and swollen. His pale face covered in red splotches from crying. He had rubbed his jaw completely raw, something he did when he was upset. You wiped a tear away from his eyes. They instantly closed craving any scrap of comfort you wanted to give him.
“Where’d you go?” You murmured, craning your neck down closer to him. He furrowed his brows at your question. He’d been here, getting shitfaced. Then it dawned on him. You meant Simon. After a year of dating he opened up to you a little more about his “alter ego”- Ghost. When Simon had been acting the way he was a part of you wondered if maybe you had been dealing with Ghost.
“You know I can’t tell you.” He choked.
“It had to be pretty bad for you to come home and treat me the way you did though.” You tried your best to keep your tone cold. He whimpered, but nodded his head agreeing with you. “Treating me like I didn’t even exist- then having the audacity to get drunk and yell at me. Do you know how scary that was for me? How would you like a 6’4, two hundred and fifty pound man- in an obviously bad headspace, drunk, yelling at you? You scared me Simon Riley and I don’t know how long it will take for me to trust you again.” You felt lighter getting that off your chest. The weight was quickly replaced by Simon curling himself around you. His sobs shook your whole body, and you fought against gravity to stay upright. You lost that battle, your body tumbling into his lap. He made quickly work of tangling both of you together, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
This was the most excruciating experience of his life. He didn’t sleep last night either, even in his drunken state he knew he’d messed up. After you left he stumbled off the couch and grabbed a few pieces of bread and shoved them down his throat. He grabbed any item containing alcohol and dumped it down the drain, throwing it straight in the trash. He tried calling you, you had left your phone on the counter. This was his worst nightmare. He had acted like his father.
He pleaded for your forgiveness against your head. He didn’t know how to make it better. All he could do was hope that you saw how truly sorry he was. How his heart was twisting so painfully in his chest that he’d had a grimace on his face for the past six hours. “How can I fix it.” He murmured. His sobs had calmed down after you caved and started rubbing his back.
“I don’t know Si.” You mumbled. His grip on you tightened. “I think you should figure that out.”
He did figure it out. It took about a month for the two of you to get back to normal. He made a point to never drink while he was home- only drinking one or two drinks after a mission if he really needed it. In the future when you two fought he made sure to control his volume and temper- stepping away from the argument if he felt he was going to scare you. More importantly though he started to see a therapist and became much more open with you about his life before you. He will always put in the work for you.
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You could barely hear your name being shouted over the heartbeat in your ears. It wasn’t until a hand wrapped around your arm did you become aware of your surroundings.
“Fuck off.” You shouted tugging your arm away from Johnny.
“Bonnie please.” He begged, pulling you back towards him. He felt sick to him stomach. Your terrified voice ringing in his ears as he pressed the accelerator. The fat tears rolling down your cheeks, your chest heaving up and down. He’s had more than enough panic attacks to know one when he sees one. You gripped the wall for support your other hand pushing roughly at his chest. His heart clenched as he realized you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. “Bonnie.” He tried again. Your breathing was so ragged he was surprised you were still conscious. “Sit down with me, please.” His voice was so soft, like he was trying to not scare off a deer. He sunk down slowly, his hands pulling you down with him. You put your legs between the two of you, resting your heated head on the cold brick of the building. You grabbed his wrists and threw his hands off of you.
He couldn’t hold back a tear any longer, his throat constricting so tight he knew it would be sore tomorrow. He quickly wiped it away. He didn’t deserve to feel sorry for himself. He’d put you- the most precious thing in his life- in danger. He deserved whatever punishment you had in mind for him.
You began to feel lightheaded. You shut your eyes, focusing hard on calming your breathing down. People walked past you- assuming the two of you had gotten a little too plastered.
“How could you do that to me.” You whispered finally. You opened your eyes and took in the sight of him. He was trying his hardest not to break down. The veins in his neck becoming more prominent.
“I was mad. You laughed at that bastards joke and it hurt me. If someone was poking fun at you I wouldn’t laugh along with them.” He tried to reason.
“So you thought almost killing us was the right way to go about it?” You snapped. Another tear fell from his eye. Usually the sight would absolutely break you, but you were so mad at him you hardly noticed it.
He didn’t know how to respond.
“We wouldn’t have died.” He assured. He had no way of knowing that and the crack in his voice made it obvious he knew that too.“I’m sorry, Bonnie.” He rose his head to look at you. He shivered as you looked at him with cold eyes.
“You wanted to scare me Johnny. You wanted to get back at me for making you feel bad. I’m sorry I laughed at his jokes- I’ll admit that wasn’t a kind thing to do. It sure as hell doesn’t excuse what you did though. How am I ever suppose to trust you again?” This was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Now you were wondering if his impulse would kill you one day.
“Let me make it up to you.” He said quickly. “All I ask for is one more chance. I’ll do anything for you, sweetheart and I know it doesn’t feel like it right now but you’re the most important thing to me. Please let me fix this.” He pleaded to you. The sincerity so evident in his eyes chipped at your cold heart. You stared at him for a long moment waiting for any falter. To see if this was just some facade. As the silence grew his gaze became more panicked- more heartbroken.
“One more chance Johnny.” You agreed. You could feel the weight of worry leaving his body. He was about to throw his arms around you but stopped himself.
“I’ll make it up to you, Sweetheart. I promise.” He swore. He did in fact, keep his promise. He never let his temper get the best of him again and completely changed his communication style, making sure he was always open and honest with you about the way he was feeling.
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If you asked anyone what Captain John Price was most proud of in his whole life, they knew without a doubt his answer would have something to do with you. He took such pride in you and his relationship with you. He lived off of the way you looked at him. The way he was able to keep that lovestruck glint in your eye no matter how long the two of you had been together. He reveled in the feelings he got when someone asked him how he was able to keep someone like you so infatuated with him. He couldn’t help but puff his chest when someone came to him for relationship advice, because there was one thing no one could ever deny:
John Price was a fantastic Husband.
He was a fantastic husband.
That night changed everything. He took the easy way out. Leaving an ‘I’m sorry’ note on the fridge before he left for three months. The first week he was away he had the chance to call you. Pour his heart out, beg you for forgiveness. Remind you how much he loves you. How he would kill and be killed for you in a heartbeat. Yet he just stood there. Staring at the small burner phone in his shaking palm.
He hated himself enough for the both of you.
Everyone quickly noticed the shift. The always present loveglow he had was completely gone. He was a ghostly color- besides the red the that never left his eyes. He was completely dead. Only speaking to bark something out. They didn’t know the pain he was in. His heart constantly constricting in his chest. He wasn’t able to sleep because all he could think about was the sobs that left your body that night. He could hear them all the way from the living room. The look of complete and utter heartbreak as you watch the love of your life beat you down with words. He had shattered your world completely. He knew the comfort you found in him. He was a natural protector and he scared you more than anyone ever had. It was the most torturous experience of his life. Yet all he did was sit there and let silent tears roll down his face.
He hated himself enough for the both of you.
He had become a menace on the field. If anyone had forget why the man was Captain- they had sure been reminded. Talks of a promotion lingered in the air but he could care less. He wasn’t John Price anymore.
Hence why no one argued with him when he demanded to be taken back to you. He had been shot. Three times. He stayed still enough to receive some treatment, but he couldn’t be away from you. Not now. He couldn’t die thinking you hated him. He couldn’t have shame be the last emotion he felt for you. He couldn’t have his name written proudly on a tombstone, because if you didn’t want his last name anymore- he didn’t want it either.
He managed to convince one of the new rookies to fly him to home base. He jumped into his truck and sped as fast as he could to you.
A familiar pair of headlights shining into the bedroom window woke you up.
It couldn’t be. He had only been gone for a little more than six weeks. The front door opened, followed by your name being shouted. You tore off the covers. The sight of him alone was enough to make you sob.
“John.” You whimpered. He tugged you against him. Your mind was spinning. He was here, covered head to toe in blood, sweat, and tears, pressing quick hard kisses anywhere he could reach.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He repeated over and over against your skin. He knew he would have to work hard to get back to where you two were. To get that same lovestruck glint back in your eye. He could do it. The way you pressed yourself closer to him gave him some hope. Hope that he could one day, become a fantastic husband again.
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“Can we talk.” You we’re just about to fall asleep when the words struck through the air. You rubbed your sore eyes nodding. The living room light flickered on and you sat up. You decided it was best for you to sleep on the couch tonight. Give each of you time to think and cool down. Looks like Konig was done. The couch squeaked uncomfortably at the newly added weight. “I did some research and I realized that the way I acted towards you wasn’t normal.” He said softly. His eyes met yours and all doubt slipped from your mind. He knew it wasn’t right. And he was sorry.
To Konig the world was very black and white. You either fought or took flight- he was choosing to fight. He knew he needed to change. He would die if you ended up resenting him. He was going to fight for this relationship by changing the way his brain worked- and he prayed that you didn’t already choose flight.
You scooted closer to him, your hand resting on his shoulder. You could feel his tense muscles relax under your touch. He leaned into you. Before you knew it you were both laying on the couch, your body nuzzled into his wide chest.
“I’m sorry I acted like that, Schatz.” He ran a huge Hand up and down your back. “I’m still so new to this. I just want you all to myself.”
“I know Konnie.” You smiled, pressing a kiss against his lips. “There are times I want you all to myself too. It’s natural to want to be close to what you love. Just try to remember I love you more than anything.” His face flushed and you snickered at the wide smile spread across his face. “I’m sorry for what I said too, Konnie. That was uncalled for.”
“No you’re right. Its true I’m not the most popular person, but I’m happy with my friends at work and of course you. I don’t really need anything else.” He sighed. “Does this mean you’ll come to bed now?” He questioned. You nodded your head rapidly, already feeling a crick in your neck.
Part one here
I just want to thank everyone for the support on this little mini series! Some of you had asked for alternative endings and I’ll have those out soon! Thank you for your patience!
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