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jazjelspen · 3 months

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my angel baby (part 5)

(angel w/ angel daughter reader)

(caution!!!!!: mild descriptions of violence)

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hotel. angel reader resembles a fawn.)

(tags: @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @just-here-reading @avitute @iam-d3ad-ins1de @des-deswain5621 @xephieeee @glowymxxn @potaturkey17 @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

My lovely editor<333: @kruncher

You were now in Rosie’s Emporium.

In Cannibal Town.

God.

In absolute shambles you were.. if it were in any other place it would be embarrassing seeing your state but considering the drastic circumstances and absolute 180 in the changes of temperatures, colors, smells, energy and even uncovered emotions that you haven't felt since you were a human finally coming out of the shadows and resurfacing, it all simply felt too much and was overwhelming your psyche.

Yet despite this— you knew you had to tough this out.

But here you were, gentle hands trembling and holding a cup of.. tea.

At least you really hoped it was tea.

“Now sweetie what in the unholy world are you doing down here? Hm?

Now now don’t keep me in suspense, if it helps any I’m not going to let anyone else’s filthy hands get on your pure little self!

Oh and me included, minus the filthy hands, mine are quite taken care of.”

This lady only made you cower a bit more simply by talking. Her sharp teeth and this confident air around her only intimidated you more.

If that’s the case.. how’d you even get in this building? Surely you had enough time to run from her in the middle of it..

Well, it's simply because she kept you from getting eaten by yet an oncoming crowd that saw the interaction with you and this apparent 'Susan' to which they seemed to have taken the old lady’s comment a bit.. too much to heart.

Their claws and baring mouths full of sharp bone, tongues salivating in wanting to try a taste of your fresh golden blood that gave off a sweet scent to them from afar.

She managed to scurry them all off with a few demands and a set of sharp words of her own, keeping you safe from becoming cannibal food for the day and honestly you'd rather be on this lady's good side if she had that kind of power to drive away the cannibals the way she did.

Your wing was even cleaned and bandaged by her despite your constant flapping in distrust and fear when she came near, feathers sprawling everywhere as if several pillows were ripped open in a kind of violent pillow fight. You were seated at a table with two chairs facing each other on each side, a bit farther back in the emporium.

“…Promise you won’t eat me, miss..”

The lady smiled fondly, her expression looking like she’s smiling towards a young child scared of the big wide world. She seemed to be genuine and true with her actions but you just really wanted to get to the hotel as soon as you could..

“Of course little thing, I promise I won’t.

Oh and where are my manners! The name's Rosie, sweetheart, I own the Cannibal Town and I lead the Cannibal Colony. Absolutely pleased to meet you."

You looked up at her with eyes full of fear and a hesitance to trust her, to give her any information at all about your circumstances.

But you weren’t raised to lie.. maybe twisting the truth wouldn’t hurt much? Keeping a few things under the rug?..

“Nice to meet you too miss Rosie..you may call me-- uh- ______.

Look I’m.. Im just looking to get back home. I heard Charlie Morningstar can help since she was in heaven awhile ago and she's the Princess of Hell, I must speak with her soon..”

The woman’s face brightened up like the sun with her sharp-toothed smile widening in remembrance. Spooking you out a tad..

“Charlie Morningstar! A real sweet thing that girl, adorable little blonde. Just a few months ago she came about and managed to convince my town of misfits to help her in preparing to defend the hotel against the angels! My goodness did she sweep them off their feet!

But yes, I know exactly where her hotel is! I can take you there as well, not a long stroll from here I'm sure. Oh but.. "

She paused with the back of her hand gently grazing your spread injured wing, it recoiling back at her touch.

"Wouldn't be surprised if any other wild sinner would want to hunt you down for sport, so maybe a nice stroll would be out of the question."

Her pale hand then moved to hold the end of her chin, the other resting on her hip as the gears in her heard started moving to find a safer passage to the hotel for you to get there.. her piqued interest in you has her wanting to see you advance a bit to see what potential you could have in this entire quarry between the both worlds at war.

"Aha! Perhaps we could have you hide inside one of those delivery carriages the townspeople have been taking in and out here to bring materials and food to the hotel. That way you avoid being seen by any potential eyes that could bring bad luck to you."

She walked up towards the large window illuminating the inside of the emporium as well as the two of you with light from Hell's pink and red hues that brighten the entirety of the realm. Her eyes now searching for a particular large object and... voila! She found it right across the town square and standing right in front of a local shop.

"Oh isn't this just perfect! There is one right there, the timing couldn't be more convenient."

You inhaled a quick breath and exhaled it as fast as it came, somehow still incredibly nervous being in a small space with this woman. Oh geez..

But you couldn't exactly complain since you did contribute in having yourself in this situation.

"So.. could we perhaps go.. now? I just.. want to head home as soon and safe as possible ma'am.."

She then suddenly turned to look at you, dress twirling and the feathers on her hat swaying in a way that indicates their movements could barley keep up with hers.

"Oh but of course! Considering half of the town's population is working on the hotel I must visit and check up on them as much as I can. I also must visit a dear ol' friend of mine, real gas that man is.

Well, then let's hop to it now shall we? We better hurry up while our tool of transportation is still here."

Your ears peaked up in slight delight at the fact that you're actually going to be heading over to the hotel now! So soon as well! This saves you so much more time, effort, and blood in trying to find the place you just knew you had to thank the woman in dark fuchsia and gray for taking you all this way. A little voice couldn't help but nag at you at how too convenient this all is.

Too bad you didn't think too much into that.

"Y..Yes! Yes ma'am!" You got up from your seat and set down your cup saucer on the table and scrambled to catch up to her and her pace with your heart pumping in your chest.

Both of you strolled across the Cannibal Plaza towards and up to the local shop with two large delivery carriages that seemed to lean on to a more older style, with them seemingly from the 1900s and were designed as if they were to hold containers like dairy and such and even people, it includeda large window on the driver's seat where they could peak in by turning their backs and looking down.. oh and it'd be a crime to not mention the horses! Although they seemed more undead and violently volatile like their cannibal owners they still were a nice touch.

Rosie and you approached them, Rosie with more confidence and you.. the opposite. "Walter, George," she spoke, an air of casualness persists "Good to see your faces alive and well! Hope you two got a minute to speak to two esteemed gals?"

The men, named Walter and George, looked up at the two of you with interest.

"Well if it isn't our Rosie! Good to see you as well madame, we sure hope you're enjoying this fine day with glee!" the man, seemingly the one called Walter spoke.

Rosie chuckled, "Oh I sure am, I even found myself a new little friend here! Which leads me in having to ask the both of you for a favor that is of most importance."

The other cannibal that goes by George focused his eyes on her and her words, "Why, anything for our beloved Rosie! What can we do for you ma'am?"

You hid slightly behind Rosie, feeling a strange comfort in just her status and power over rest of her people that made you feel at least a bit more safe from them. You would've continued listening to her conversation with the two men if the distant yet also near sound of explosions echoed across all of Hell which made you jump a little and stifle a gasp ever so slightly.

No one exactly noticed this or acknowledged the sounds too much which got you thinking if this is truly just an everyday thing.. of course it is it's hell but-- geez.. how can anyone live like this! Explosions, blood, guts, corpses, drugs, diseases, infections running rampant and indulged in the way pigs would at old farm food.

Just the thought of that damn severed hand being eaten by that little kid that you stumbled upon earlier just made you sick.. ugh.

Is this what Alastor indulges in as well?.. in his own sick way? Is he truly comfortable in a place like this?..

He must be, if he's murdered as many as he did when he was alive, you didn't dare think how many he's hurt and murdered down here as well.

He truly did belong here, in hell. He was a sadist and a psycho through and through.

And that's what disgusted you the most.

"You hear that dear! One of them is half near empty! Let's head on at once!”

Rosie finally snapped you out of your thoughts, you then just nodded as if you were present in the moment this entire time.

Rosie put a hand behind your back to guide you to the back of one of the delivery carriages and as one man held the doors open for the two of you, you both went in and sat down on the neat little benches on the inside and you couldn't help but to acknowledge the several boxes of nails and other unmentionables that you assumed was meant for the hotel and the people working on it.

Eventually after the doors closed you managed to get light by the large window that brightened up the darkness in your new much smaller environment.

“You know ______ darling, you remind me of someone I know.”

Rosie’s sudden voices spooked you quite a bit, it was a bit out of nowhere as it interrupted the awkward silence between the two of you.

“I.. do?”

She nods as her hands rested on the handle of her closed umbrella, sitting in a most elegant way.

Thank goodness she was versatile, considering the circumstances.

“You remind me of a certain friend I’m going to see when we reach the hotel, you see he’s a very powerful fellow. Charming and helpful but.. what interests me more is how alike you both look..”

It’s starting to click slightly once she said ‘he’.. god you just hoped she wasn’t referring to Alastor -- even though you knew how likely it is that she was.

"Oh? Really?.. " acting oblivious I see, but before you could properly respond to her the sound of a whip could be heard with the loud neighs of a horse following right after, making the carriage start moving.

The ride wasn't too bad, a bit traumatizing sure and you really got a good experience of hell.. more or so decent.

In the middle of your ride you seemed to have passed by a rival gang having a shootout considering the two flying bullets that punctured your vehicle which most definitely tensed you up, yet you tried to relax seeing Rosie's opposite reaction.

Then you heard many yowls and screams of ache and pain, all with their own sounds of bodies falling or the sound of wet and squishiness following the disgusting act of puncturing with some sort of weapon you couldn't even imagine can be heard despite passing by the sounds quickly.

The live murders made you feel queasy in ways that made you almost want to throw up but knew you had to keep your head up high.

God, knowing you can't see anything but still hear everything is absolute torture for your wild imagination.

"Miss Rosie, does this--" a loud boom from afar interrupted you, making you almost shrivel up "--does this.. amount of chaos truly...happen everyday?.. I know it’s.. hell but-- isn't there at least one day where this isn't happening?.."

"Oh it never stops darling. It's hell and it will keep going this way until the end of time. I do apologize though.. seems as if your pure little head isn't used to this kind of environment." Duh. "Oh but then that means you'll surely get along with the princess, if anything she seems to be more fit to be an angel."

You simply huffed as your hands trembled on your lap.

This place was downright unpredictable, and you truly hope you would be able to leave this place right after the war.

You miss home already.

----------------------------------------------------

Finally arriving at the Hazbin Hotel was a real treat.

Not really actually-- pfft.

At least not when you had to be around even more cannibals..

Now you knew why the town seemed a little.. empty. The rest were all here.

Charming of them to be helping out but thanks to 'Susan' you didn't want to interact with any of them.

Walking out of your carriage you felt your heart up in your throat and slowly start to beat at a violent pace. Your anxiety was rising.

Rosie lead you to the front of the hotel doors, seemingly dusting herself off fixing her hair and hat before her hand turned into a fit to knock at the door.

You did the same thing she did, except in a more nervous and trembly way. Alastor was in here.. you were sure of it. You could feel it in your bones and your veins wanting to pop blood from out your ears and nose was seemingly close to happening with how hard the beating of your pulse got once Rosie finally did what you were dreading slightly.

knock, knock.. knock.

'okay _____ stay calm. you knew this was going to be bad, but you're here now.. just breathe, breathe...' you followed your own advice and took an inhale but as you let your shaky exhale out the door was slowly opening.

your eyes were staring dead at the head of the door.

was it Charlie? Vaggie? Alastor?--

"Hello there, just came to deliver someone who was looking for the Hotel. Oh and I came to check up on my cannibals and on Alastor."

Rosie all but confirmed it.

She knew Alastor.

For some reason, your heart sank, not just because she knew Alastor very well apparently but because this feels like a sort of strange betrayal.

You really wished she would've told you.. but if she did you would've freaked out even more-- and maybe she could tell?.. wait-- how would she even know your connection to him anyway??.. looking like a fawn couldn't just straight up tell her..

Yet when you finally looked up at the now open door it was actually none of those three that you knew of.

It was a.. cat? A grumpy lookin' one.

He looked at you and up at Rosie, her arm proceeding to go behind your back to push you gently up closer to the door as if to tell the cat to let you in. His eyes widened at the look at you and your physical attributes.. your wings and halo catching his eye but your fawn like appearance only enhancing the tension in his face a lot more.

He eventually let out a husky sigh with the expression on his face relaxing, his voice being very low and his years were audible in his vocal chords he then turned behind him to loudly announce one single thing from afar:

"You've got company."

He turned back at the two of you and opened the door for you to go through, Rosie guiding you in first.

"He's inside talking to the princess, just walk ahead, take a right and you'll see him." He spoke straight forwardly and serious, it made you feel a little unwelcome. Yet as you walked in you couldn't help but feel those eyes of his stick to you like glue.. you couldn't really blame him-- you were sure they don't see an angel everyday the way you are with hell's environments.

The clicking of Rosie's shoes and the gentle pitter patter of your own gave you goosebumps up your arms, and the more you walked and the closer you heard certain voices the more your spine crawled.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four steps...

You could barley hear anything but the thumping of your own heart.

The small area of the hotel seemed to have been a sort of living room, sets of chairs and sofas surrounding a television box that seemed to be from one of the more later years after your time.

A calm Alastor and a stressed out Charlie were seated on the two different sofa while facing each other with papers and maps scattered around the table in the middle. Rosie lead you further to have you be in the view of the both of them.. you could've sworn her smile stretched as she did so

"Well if it isn't our beloved Rosie! What a warming surprise!--" Alastor's voice cheered until the end, where a sharp radio static interrupted his sentence and irritated those ears of yours.

"Rosie!" Charlie stood up from her seat in a polite yet frazzled state "Thank you so much for visiting!.. and I-- oh.."

The silence was deafening. You waved awkwardly as you avoided eye contact with your father and faced Charlie herself, her eyes basically ready to budge out and her jaws hanging slightly.

"Just came to visit and bring a little gift! I found this little bird during my stroll around my cannibal town and she seems to need your assistance! Isn't that right ______ darling?"

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more. You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class..

'oh dear.. "

—--------------------------------------------

It was yet another cold and dark night in the beautiful New Orleans, faint night music can be heard even in the dead of night from the nearby clubs. A fresh and gentle night,

Ah but.. Alastor wasn’t exactly getting his hours of much needed sleep, for he had been rudely awakened by the cries of a baby.

Yes, you were around ten months old at this time and Alastor was yet to get used to this. There wasn’t a day that passed by where he didn’t think of dropping you at an orphanage. But then again.. It wasn’t that hard to get you to stop crying so those heinous thoughts left very quickly. Except for this day, he was getting challenged by a ten month old you.

“Shh shh shh.. goodness _____ please just go to sleep..” he mumbled, definitely frustrated. Despite his pleas, you just kept on crying and crying while resting over his shoulder. He fed you, patted your back, rocked you to sleep.. nothing worked– unfortunately Alastor wasn’t thinking of one of the most obvious solutions to this situation since the poor guy was too tired to truly think properly.

He kept gently patting your back, shushing you and cooing softly in hopes to tire you out. Your small yet mighty cries continued to rage against his ear..

god he had no idea what to do.

That was when he held you, his hands under your arms as he had you held in front of his face. His glasses were sloppily slapped above his nose, eye bags under his eyes, and a small smile was threatening to turn into a huge frown.

“Little lady.. I don’t appreciate you keeping me up longer than usual tonight, what in the world could you want?” Alastor asked you despite knowing you couldnt understand let alone talk to him back. You simply looked at him with big innocent eyes filled with tears, your baby face stained with dry and wet tear stains and your mouth nibbling on your hand on the verge of crying all over again. Alastor couldn��t help but to look at you almost blankly, he just wanted to sleep.

Gahh but then your eyes started watering again, your little bottom lip curled up over your top one as it quivered and looked at him with these little pained eyes as if he just told you the worst thing ever.

“Oh don’t look at me like that..” he mumbled.. Dreading the feeling you gave him when you cried– it felt like your cries were hurting him, it pained him hearing you cry so hard.

He wasn’t exactly fond of feeling this.

Your loud crying resumed once again, Alastor let out a huge sigh.

“Oh fine- I apologize.. There, better now?” you cried harder, clearly.. no.

He groaned as he then rested you on his chest, your face over his shoulder once again. If your crying wasn’t going to stop he might as well listen to a song to calm his agitation. And so he did, he headed to the living room to then turn on the phonograph. With the device already having a disc in it he simply had to turn it on so it could play where it left off and the second it released the sound of bliss he let out a sigh of relief, that at least despite the crying he could at least go through this as calmly as possible.

The music wasn’t exactly loud, very faint in fact yet he could still hear it a little bit over your crying. He hummed to the tune of the song as he simply patted your back gently and waited for your cries to disintegrate.

This was one of his favorite songs as they were from a musician that is recently becoming incredibly famous in the music industry and Alastor was fascinated by their use of melody and sound.

Melodies that reminded him of the days of his mother when she was still gracing the earth, a real saint that woman was.

Sometimes he talks to her through a photo of her on the wall, asking her questions she’ll never answer, seeking advice and wisdom that he won’t ever be able to hear again.

If only her sickness didn’t overtake her as fast as it did, maybe she would know what to say to motivate him more in this moment of struggle.

He thought and thought and thought as if his head would burst if he didn't.. wondering how she would help him in raising you. What she would say, her suggestions, recommendations.. what would she do in a situation like this.

He knew he had to stay calm and stay in control, he had to keep smiling for that’s what his mother always did no matter what came her way.

She handled it with grace, poise, and with a smile.

It took him around an hour of overthinking about his mothers death, you, his future, his job, and his.. pff.. fascinations.. the lack of sleep seriously taking a toll on him as his want was slowly getting tired of patting you.

But most of all he was thinking about you. His future included yours.

How kind.. despite being so heartless.

Oh.. the song ended and all that was left was the soft static from the machine, blissful silence was all that was heard.

Wait..

Silence?

He looked over his shoulder to look at you, your little baby cheeks squished against him, your eyes closed and your breathing steady..

Finally! You're asleep.

Another sigh of relief released from his lips, continuing to loudly hum the same song that was playing earlier as he slowly walked out of the living room towards his room, now stopping at your crib.

He continued humming as one of his hands held the back of your head and the other held your back, gently placing you in the crib while humming the tune he kept you close while he set you down so you wouldn’t suddenly burst in crying again.

Once he gently managed to place you down with no fuss.. He was darn ready to sleep.

Oh but he took a moment to look at you, leaning against the railings of your ‘bed’ made specifically for you.

Your little baby fat and your squishy cheeks that made your little face even cuter– once again, he was never fond of kids let alone babies but hell if only you didn’t look at him the way you did on that rainy day he found you.. Giggling and smiling even when you didn’t have a single clue of what your situation was as a month old baby.

“You are definitely a handful.. If you kept crying I might have left you in an orphanage by now.” he whispered and joked to himself– no matter the cruel jokes he makes he’ll always find laughter in moments or scenarios of despair.

He’s too far gone now though, he’s bought all your necessities and his home basically screams of a baby’s presence, so even if he truly wanted to do that he knew it’s too late to turn back and you're stuck to him forever.. Well however long ‘forever’ is.

"Domestic life was never quite my style.. still isn't, but I can simply make a few exceptions."

“Well now.. sweetest of dreams, little dove.” he mumbled quietly before finally heading to his own bed himself.

Alastor finally settling in and finally getting comfortable and very slowly falling asleep himself.. glasses back on his nightstand and the noise around him becoming fainter and his mind seemed to finally start powering off for the night.

Finally.. time to sleep.. there's much work to do tomorrow.

Until he heard shuffling from the crib.

‘Oh god.’

(thank you so much for reading part 5 of my angel baby! the stakes are gonna get real high between the reader and Alastor! hope everything goes well for the two when one of them starts interacting!(alastor lmao) hope to see you all in part 6 if you are willing to stick around! Im really only planning to finish this series until the very end or until you guys stop wanting it but nonetheless I hope we reach the end of this story soon!!)

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blingblong55 · 7 months

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The Great War -141, Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

with the new mw3, lets do angst, something along the lines of "Somewhere in the haze, got a sense i've been betrayed" coming from us because 141 betrayed us horribly, which ended up in us getting tortured and then we pretennd its fine when it isnt. forget and forgive we lie and when we meet with Makarov, we tell them, 'oops sorry, forgot i was also a enemy at some point, guess its time to betray like real enemies do' and as we set Makarov free, we show that we have been working as his spy ever since they betrayed us. also can this be with a female reader and we also marry makarov behind their backs so thats why we betray so hard? i love u!

A/N: anon knew what they were doing with that ask…anyway, here you go my love…betrayal as a meal <3

--- F!Reader, soldier!reader, enemy!reader, betrayal, mentions of torture and violence

A/N: also, not much of an angst since I don't want to kill Soap in this one...but I hope you like it

[Present day]

File #21712

Name: [Readers Last, First name]

Alias: Grim

Callsign: Bravo 0-5

Gender: F

DOB: [Redacted]

Rank: 2nd Lt.

Affiliations:

-TF 141 (Former)

-Kasper Team (dissolved)

-Konni Group (Current)

Status: Alive. Threat.

Summary:

Deadly, fast and a killing machine. Soldier was trained as a recon sniper and has been trained by allied forces as an insertion specialist. SAS has recognised this soldier as a necessity for most of its joint operations. Decorated with high awards and recognition by all military forces. TF 141 acquired soldier after a mission in Al Mazrah. Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.

----------------------

The file was there, Laswell and all of the men in the team stared at it. What have they done, was all that played in their minds. To betray a soldier that has been wanted by all allied forces, by all teams and now losing you so quickly to a Russian group. To think your hands will be responsible for their demise. One torture room, where you begged as they did vile acts against you. Truth yelled by your gravelly throat, only to have Price ask for more of your blood. "How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls.

[Eight years ago]

There had been suspicion someone within the base was working with KorTac, a double agent. All fake puzzles led to an unsuspecting, then officer cadet, you. Ghost and Soap made sure to tie you nicely to a chair. The same one that watched you bleed the truth as they cut looking for lies. You were always the hunter, never the prey. "Tell us, R/N, why the fuck were you talking to KorTac!" Price made sure to have the young Lieutenant punch you each time you stayed silent. Your blood on the walls of the torture-...interrogation room. "I told you Price, it isn't me!" Your eyes poured the truth they never saw.

"Fucking answer us!" Soap, more than ever hurt, slapped you. You play tough, but this hurts, the people you trusted with your life are now wanting to end it. An oath you hold close to you, now far away, or so they believed. The patch you wore with pride, is now ripped from your uniform. No longer friendly but an enemy. You knew what this meant. Ghost took his knife out, began to approach your neck with the sharp blade and before he took your life, Gaz walked in. A small-figured soldier is being pushed into the room. "Tell them what you told me!" Garrick barked. "I-it's me! I'm the one who is talking to KorTac," voice filled with fear, rightfully so. Ghost let go of the fisted uniform in his hand, and watched as your body fell forward. Soap, look of regret, held you in his arms.

On the way to the medic centre, Ghost was by your side as you kept whispering it wasn't you. The scar he made, is forever to be kept. Days of healing, hours of apologies. Nights when you didn't hear it, but the cold lieutenant apologised with a stream of tears on his face. A blade he cared for, neared your death.

A/N: Makarov's information has been updated for the reboot, so I'm basing myself on that

[Seven years ago]

[Saint Petersburg, Russia]

You visited the country as a civilian and bumped into a man on your way to your hotel. "Sorry, mate," you kept walking and then days later, the same man appeared in the hotel's lobby. Bumped into you and then as an apology for spilling your wine, he offers dinner. 36-year-old Vladimir was still not illustrated, not to any of his future enemies or hunters at least. You learned many things with him that evening, from his young years in the military and how his night had gotten better since meeting you. "It's wonderful, to have such a beauty like you visit such a dull country." He had you blushing and knew how to mess with your young heart.

"You're just saying that, Vlad," a smile on your lips. It was bizarre how he went from Vladimir to Vlad, a short name that meant too much to a man like him. "Well, it's true, my dear," his smile winning you over. He didn't know your real job and you didn't know his. That night, you made a friend, someone you hold dear. That night, he made a lover, a puppet to his future.

[Six years ago]

[middle of nowhere]

"Where are you taking me?" a blindfold on you as your boyfriend, Vlad, took you to yet another date. "You'll see my dearest," he whispers against your soft skin. Warm breeze hit your skin. The ocean, as free as you and him yearned to be. "Suprise my love," his thick accent melting your heart. The blindfold off you, you smile and hug him. This day, all truth was told, no arguments, just two lovers understanding each other's lives. "No no, my love, I would never hurt you," a promise he knows to keep. "And you wouldn't betray me, right love?" His hands cupped your delicate face as you nod. "I would never," you whisper as you feel his lips fall on yours.

From then on, no one knew who he was to you. But to his comrades, friends and family you were the girl who held his heart. The task force all thought you were just like them, stuck to the mission and not to civilian love. Dancing with the devil, making love to him and promising your all. An engagement ring that hangs with your dog tags. Secret love to never be told.

[Five years ago]

"Who is this?" Soap and Gaz looked at the photograph. "Vladimir Makarov, a Russian nationalist, born during the USSR," Laswell responded. "He's the target," her lips said. A knot at your throat, this can't be, you have to warn him. "Y'alright love?" Ghost's hand on your back. You nod. "Yeah, I'm just thinking," you turn to him. He nods, "Right, well, what do you think we should do?" He encouraged you, the new lieutenant of the team, no longer a cadet officer. It was something he pushed you to, to be the best. Proud smile on him when you ran up to him with the news. "I say we start with intel," you look at the photograph once more. It was your Vlad, no doubt. "Right, sergeants with me, Ghost and Grim stay behind for Laswell's next intel ask," Price nodded and left.

Days passed and Operation Golf was established. Ghost taught you how to perfect your ghillie suit. He just liked how you tried to make yours better than his, which always turned into, 'which Lt. wore it better'.

By midnight, as Ghost went to sleep, you left base to meet with Vladimir. Price and the two other men in a different country, looking for him. "What is it, my love?" His gloved hands held your face. "They are now gathering intel on you. They believe you are still in Russia," you spoke in Russian. He chuckles, "Shame that I'm here, isn't it," his lips meet yours. Your nose is cold and now warmed by his kiss. "Don't trust no one, not even Ivan," you warn him. "I only trust my beautiful love," he kisses you again. "Now, let me hold my precious darling before she plays pretend." And that night, was the first of many rendezvous's he took for you whilst you play ally to the task force.

[Four years ago]

You were on an operation with some old teammates from a past squad when Price got a hold of you. "Grim, it's that Captain Price guy!" A teammate calls out. You answer the call. "Prisoner 627 is now in Russia," Price proudly spoke. 627, a number unique to the case the military had opened for Makarov alone. Your wedding ring is hung with the dog tags. "Copy, out." You say over the call. That night, your bedroom was not filled with the call of your dearest lover. It's strange, to play pretend with the family you made as a soldier and to play feign with the man you call home as a wife. All in the name of love and war.

Months pass and you play calmly. No husband, just an enemy in some Russian prison. "Y'okay bonnie?" Soap sat beside you during mess hall. "Yeah, just a bit tired from that training," you lie. The sleepless nights you have thought about your husband. You look around the table, no one knowing you knew what would come next from Konni. In the end, it wouldn't be you who got betrayed again. Not tortured, especially not by the men in your husband's team that guarded your life with theirs.

Mission after mission, you would go to a country near Russia. Have meetings with people on your husband's side, and hear how he would escape prison. Asked you to stay away from his people when the day arrived. Play good, he would remind you. You know the date, time, how and when it would happen. The plan is all memorised in your head. You knew the people that would break him free, you knew it all and yet no one in 141 was aware.

[Three years ago]

On yet another mission, you got news of Vladimir. He isolated himself, prepared for when he would see you again. Sent letters to you occasionally. Details of love no one would see from a man like him. A love for all movie lovers to never witness. You roamed the home he set out to be his and yours, no one, not even his best soldier knew that home existed. It was days like these that you wished to have stayed in bed and kissed his body, all details to be taken in for when you waited to once more kiss him.

The picture of the secret wedding was held between your fingers. A smile he dreams to see as he awaits the prison break. The man who was set to believe evil held your hand and promised an entire lifetime of love. "I'm sorry," you whisper as your gaze focuses on the 141 emblem.

"Never be sorry, never, what they did to you is cruel, you never do that to a woman who was oathed in," fury escaped his lips. It was the night he finally told you all about him. He kissed the scars that the torture room left. In that moment, all else who dared question you, especially the rats of 141 would pay for what they did to his darling. Maybe he did corrupt you, but those scars, the lies they believed and the truths they never heard from you, were way before he met you. He believed in loyalty, good or evil, opposing or not. And the way you told him how you held the oath of being a soldier dear to you, he admired it. He believes that loyalty is essential, and if you are loyal to who you are, he applauds it.

[Two years ago]

A mission gone wrong, a phone call from within the prison. All he sacrificed to just hear you say, "I'm fine, honey." With that oh-so-soft voice of yours. A sigh of relief came from his lips. This was a reminder he would always be around even from within a guarder tower of hell. His men would always guard you, even if they fought 141, you were never the target. KorTac had a target on their backs when Vladimir found out they were the ones responsible for the bullet on your shoulder. "What is it?" He asked the guard. "The girl has been injured, gunfight at some mission." He had people that worked for him within the guards, and when the news arrived to him, that's when for the first time in his life, he feared life and a gun. Vladimir Makarov is a villain in everyone's eyes. In your eyes that hold paradise, he is peace. He is Vlad, your husband.

Whilst waiting for Soap to get cleared from the medics, you played with the ring on your necklace. "Oh, R/N, has some lover?" Gaz was the first to notice. Ghost's stare went to you, eyes wide as he heard the words he never needed to hear. Your blush told the words his heart never wanted to hear.

[One year ago]

[Las Almas, Mexico]

"Are you threatening us?" Ghost asked and in that moment, he made you back away. Guarding you with his body. Betrayal, the first of many he would see with you. That became the night you escaped the shadows of Commander Graves. Soap was somewhere in the city, Ghost and you escaped every chance the shadows had at catching you. Imprisonment is something you got Colonel Vargas out of. Ironic. By the end, you killed him, the man who used his shadows, in some explosion. "You alright, love?" Ghost asked as you went to the aircraft quietly. "Yeah, Mexico just tired me," your head hung as you played with the dog tags. "Who's the lover?" He finally acknowledged the ring. "No one, it's just a silly joke," you lie, something he knew well. "Hmm, yeah...a silly joke," he turned away from you.

[Present day, 21 November 2023 ]

[London, England]

The last time you saw them all as a team, well, now that you were sure you'd be a newfound enemy. With Makarov now out of prison, prisoner 627, your love called for him. As Ghost looked through the CCTV cameras, one of the men in Konni gave you the signal. And as you approached, you caught a glimpse of him. Your heart flutters and then you look at Ghost. He nodded and you pretended to try and fight against Makarov. Czar-9-0 Actual. The callsign of your husband and the name of the man you betrayed them for. Guns blazing, bullets directed at them, not you. Gaz and Ghost, a team, Soap and Price, a team, 141, one unit. You, the wife of the enemy. Two bullets and then, the head hit the ground. Young soldier down. "What are you doing?!" Soap asked as you turned on them. A 20-year-old soldier died within seconds, you knew him from when he joined at 18. James, the man whose blood ran on your gun.

Makarov fired, one of his men held your hand and brought you to your husband. The 141 patch off your uniform as now, you were given the Konni patch. "Welcome back, comrade," a man spoke with an evil grin. Ghost, the eyes that saw the betrayal again. 23 soldiers died, from both sides. 141 on the ground, trying to recover.

"C'mon, Grim, you have to trust me on this, yeah?" the young lieutenant that made Ghost told you. "What if we fall?" you asked. "If you trust me, we won't and if I trust you, we will go home and get a pint or two," He smiles at you. From this day on, you and he became close, a bond no gun could break.

Ghost swore you were taken hostage. And as Makarov was about to kill Captain Price, one of his men tapped him out. "No time, we will get him later!" Ghost's glare never left yours. He shook his head. This can't be, not his R/N. You looked at him, no remorse behind your eyes. It wasn't R/N, it was Grim that stared at him. The soldier he respected the most. You pointed your gun at one of the other soldiers with them.

It turned into something bigger

Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

He jumped at you, to not kill you but to bring you back and let Makarov run with Grim. You pushed him, what turned into a fight for his teammate to be back, became a fight against the enemy. You pushed him to the ground. "Ghost!" Gaz yelled as he saw your gun pointed at him. It was never Makarov that would be his demise. It wasn't an enemy. It was you. It was the one he held dear to his civilian self. The woman he would drink poison for. The one he jumped a bullet for when they were young cadets. Stupid, stupid, stupid. His eyes never left yours and for a second, he saw past Grim and noticed the scared R/N that obeyed her husband.

Soldier down on that icy ground

Looked up at me with honor and truth

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

That was the night I nearly lost you

You put your gun down and turn away, running to Vladimir. His open arms, ready to embrace his darling. Now, all of 141's secrets are with Makarov. It clicked in that instant. How four years ago Makarov knew who Ghost was. How well he knew all their names. It wasn't some file he saw when his hacker got in, no, it was you, the best of all pawns. The train cleaned your tracks. Price and the others stood in fear, all this time, you were part of Konni. Ghost stood in silence.

In every war he was in, you were there. His favourite of all soldiers. From his early days as just Simon to his latest days as Ghost, all witnessed by you. He was the one who asked for you anywhere he went. His life came in a flash, all the Christmas events, the dinners and drinks he had with his friend...no...enemy. The one person who knew Simon liked the palm of her hand, now holding the man Ghost called an enemy.

"How did he get to her so quickly?" Gaz asked, baffled to have lost you to the man you hated when this all began. "He had her all along," Kate spoke. Nikolai shook his head. "But how? We were her family," a betrayed Ghost said. "We betrayed her first," Price recalls. "But that was years ago," Soap comments. "It started years ago," Gaz mentions. "We weren't meant to win this one gentlemen," Kate informs.

"Fuck!" Ghost's blood boiled. He scared them, he knew that well. So when he slammed his fist on the table, he even made the best of soldiers flinch. "Lt," Soap tried to calm him down. "No, Johnny! You don't get it, you don't know her as I do," he approached the sergeant. "She didn't kill you, why?" Kate walks to the betrayed soldier. "What?" His voice is hoarse. "She had the chance to kill you, headshot even, yet she didn't, she ran to him and then when she did, all fire ceased." Kate is after all a mastermind. "She didn't betray Simon, she betrayed Ghost, she betrayed Soap, not Johnny, Gaz, not Kyle and Bravo six, not John." She states.

"She betrayed soldiers, not family," Price came to realisation. Grim did that, Grim killed all that came between the goal. 'Capable of killing all those that come between her and the goal, will not hesitate to harm enemies.' The goal wasn't to kill Task Force 141, it was to get revenge for the betrayal, for torturing you in a room, letting your blood drip. You married a man, something all fools do. But even though Makarov wanted you to pull the trigger on Ghost, you didn't. You ran away and the fire ceased.

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

A/N: see what I did there?...mastermind me y'know

Tags:

@tf141glory @liyanahelena @quaritchscupquake @dilfgestivo @thefragmented @scarletdfox @arialikestea @unicorngirly1 @alhaizen @willowaftxn83-87 @koniglovesme @bbyfimmie @mothcelestial @kit-kats06 @palomesa @dheet @dontfearthereaperazura

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ts1m1kas · 8 months

Text

Original Ask: second here's an erling fic idea. so as you know norway lost to spain in the euro's match, which means erling will obviously be dejected and quite depressed that his country couldn't make it, so what if his girlfriend takes advantage of the days before the premier league starts, and plans a sweet getaway for the two of them. (@findingnemosworld)

Word Count: 667 words

(author's note: i love writing about erling !!! thank you for another lovely request @findingnemosworld 🫶 im sure my haaland anon will like this as well !!)

International breaks were always difficult. However, the added pain of coming home, knowing your team hadn’t qualified, made it worse.

Erling sat dejectedly in the changing rooms. The 1-0 loss to Spain meant Norway hadn’t qualified. He felt like he had let his country down. Checking his phone, he saw a text from his girlfriend that read:

‘So proud of you my love! You played amazingly, can’t wait to see you when you get back home <3’

He sighed. Erling knew she was just saying that to make him feel better. Although knowing she thought he played well made him feel immensely better. He said his goodbyes to his teammates and headed back to his hotel to pack his bags.

After the usual airport experience, Erling arrived back in Manchester. He got out of the taxi that had brought him home and knocked on the door of the house he shared with his girlfriend. The cold air of the UK nipped at his skin as he waited for her to open the front door.

Wrapped up in one of his hoodies, Y/N opened the door and threw her arms around her boyfriend. She knew he would be disappointed by the loss and she wanted to make him feel better.

Erling pulled his bags inside and closed the door behind him. His girlfriend looked up at him, her eyes full of sympathy.

“Go take a warm shower and then we can watch some television”, she told him, "It’ll make you feel better, I know you hate flying.”

He nodded wordlessly and moved slowly up the stairs. Erling undressed himself and stepped into the stream of warm water.

His mind was running through all the things he could’ve done differently. He felt fully responsible for their loss in his heart, even though his head was telling him he wasn’t. He finished up in the shower, got dressed, and walked downstairs to where Y/N was sitting down waiting for him.

The girl opened her arms and gestured for him to come and sit with her. Erling crawled into her outstretched arms and rested his head on her chest. Y/N ran her fingers through his damp, freshly-washed hair.

“It wasn’t your fault, my love. Please don’t blame yourself. You’ll only make yourself feel worse.”

Erling sighed, his eyes stung with unshed tears, “I know, nydelig, I just can’t help but feel I could’ve played better."

Y/N sighed. Her heart hurt for the man she loved so dearly. Erling put his heart and soul into football, and she wished he would recognise when he had done his best.

The next few days were miserable. Erling moped around the house, barely speaking a word to his girlfriend. Y/N had decided to take matters into her own hands. She had booked a getaway to a cabin in a beautiful forest and was about to tell her boyfriend.

“Erling, honey?” She said, knocking on the door to his office. She let herself in, and her boyfriend took his headphones off.

“I have a surprise for you,” She told him, handing an envelope over to him.

“What is it?”

“Open it,” she replied, gesturing towards the envelope that was now in his large hands.

Erling gently ripped open the envelope that he’d been given. He pulled out the piece of paper that was inside and scanned over the text that was written.

“We’re going away?”

“Yes, I think it will be good for you to get away from football for a while and just get back to your normal self. It breaks my heart to see you upset my love.”

Erling got out of his chair and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. He nestled his head into the crook of her neck and placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

“Thank you kjære, thank you for everything.”

The pair remained in each others arms for a while, grateful to have one another to pick them back up when things weren’t perfect.

#erling haaland x reader #erling x reader #erling haaland #fanfiction #fanfic #football #hot footballers #manchester city #man city #request #by ts1m1kas

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abouttofillhisshoes · 15 days

Text

If you're too shy // pt.2 - Matty Healy

A/N: shit banner because i've fallen off xx. Anyway this was written whilst listening to the arctic monkeys debut which is absolute SHIT by the way 0/10 i'd rather listen to margaret thatcher's sex tape thanks.

wc: 4k

content warnings: literally nothing happens its a bit said, body writing, teasing, begging, sub!Matty being pathetic as per use, cliffhanger because the google doc told me to

They say feeling diminishes over time, sensations are lost to memories, forgotten. What Matty was experiencing couldn’t be further from the truth. Hazy daydreams inhabit his every waking thought, dreams only more and more vivid as time passed. Time didn't diminish the feeling of your hands on him, hot skin against his. It only intensified it, a certain sense of longing plaguing him. Longing for you.

It’s an out of body experience, being in your presence. Your knowing glances when your eyes meet, an expression on your face only he can truly decipher. Matty dreams of you, so graphically that it leaves him panting in his bed, shaking hands running through unbrushed curls as he tries to collect himself, tries to push it down.

But his hands cant help but wander, tracing over where you had touched him, goosebumps spreading onto his skin as the scene plays back in his mind. You, above him, forcing him down onto the floor. The way his knees ached at the harsh pressure of the linoleum floor. Your fingers dragging past his parted lips, pressing down onto his tongue, relishing in the sounds that escaped him. The small glimpse of your skin, the dark lace against your thigh a constant reminder of what could've been. What could still be.

He doesn't know what you’re thinking, even if he yearns for your thoughts. You won't speak to him, you haven't since that day. It's painful, watching you live on like nothing had passed between the two of you, the only communication being a small, unassuming look, a brush of the hand. Nothing more, nothing less.

This lesson is no different, loud chatter filling the space as the class gets into groups, working on some assignment. Matty sits on his desk, feet scuffing the seat of his chair as Ross gestures at his latest hookup, staring at him from across the room. You vaguely recognise her from a few of your other classes. She’s meek and quiet, bordering on pushover with the way she lets her friends walk all over her, but quite kind overall.

His voice is loud, booming through the classroom as he laughs and jokes, refusing to pay any attention to the assignment despite the teacher's numerous attempts to get him to focus. His presence is altered in your eyes, different. The thing that had passed between the two of you can't be ignored just so, and you know he feels it too, his eyes boring a hole into the back of your head. It's when you unexpectedly turn around that his breath hitches, stuttering over a simple sentence. His little mistake going seemingly unnoticed, Ross keeps speaking, leaving Matty to stare at you, eyes darting all over your face, trying to read your expression.

You remain neutral, raising your eyebrows at him in a sort of silent question. Matty cocks his head in turn, almost like a challenge, deep brown eyes narrowing slightly. The scrape of that chair against the floor is piercing, though no one around you pays it any mind. Bending over the desk, back facing him, a piece of paper is ripped out of your fairly expensive notebook, the scratch of pen against it oddly satisfying, your handwriting forming loopy, inky blue letters. Your fingers feel over the writing, the dips where your pen indented that simple message feel rough against your skin.

People crowd the room, making it difficult to maneuver through it, bags hitting against your feet wherever you stepped. Muttering quiet excuses, your hand clutches the piece of paper, almost like it would disappear if it wasn't for your grip. Matty’s eyes follow you, intrigued, raking up your bare legs as you walk in his direction, staring him down.

To anyone else, nothing seems out of the ordinary in the way that you accidentally bump against the edge of the desk he’s sitting on, your right hand grabbing on to it for stability as you apologize to no one in particular. Only Matty sees the white, neatly folded note you had left right next to his hip, tucking it under a book you knew he never used. He shivers as your fingers make contact with his belt, something he wouldn't have even noticed if it wasn't your touch.

The whole world slows down as he snatches it from under the textbook, unengaged enough in the conversation at this point that he could turn his body away from the group unnoticed, unfolding the note. His heart speeds up as he immediately recognises your handwriting, eyes over scanning the words.

His body moves instinctively, getting up from his spot on the wooden desk, creaking slightly as a girl's voice asks where he’s going.

“Bathroom.” he mutters under his breath, his vague answer raising a few suspicions. The group's attention is quickly turned to the teacher standing a few feet away, sternly telling them off. Matty manages to slip away. You disappear out the door just as he looks up from the note, his feet carrying him after you.

6th period is always quiet, an atmosphere of calm falling over the school building as the light streamed in from the high windows, still most of the corridor fairly dark. Blue lockers adorned the walls, dented and damaged from decades of use by previous generations of students. The echo of your shoes against the floor fill Mattys ears, the sound only adding to the anticipation already coursing through his veins.

His mind races with jumbled thoughts, questions upon questions being asked. Where were you going? What were you going to do?

No, what were you going to do to him? A shaky exhale from Matty is loud in the silence of the hall, his fists clenching and unclenching at his ideas as he walks after you, keeping a few paces behind. You don't even stop to glance over your shoulder, almost like you knew he would follow you, not a single doubt in your mind. Matty realizes this, and it only makes him even more desperate for you to just acknowledge him, a slight turn, a look, anything.

The few moments you lead him feel like hours, your eyes darting past doors and full classrooms until you stop in your tracks, hearing the scuffle of Matty’s trainers as he stops behind you, unmoving. The door creaks as you twist the doorknob, an empty, darkened room greeting you. The air is cold, dust particles fly through it as you step inside, letting the door start to fall shut behind you. Matty runs in just as it's about to close, holding his palm flat against the wood, lips parting when his eyes finally land on you.

The note is warm in his hand as he recalls what he had read on the page, three simple words sending him into a spiral of all-consuming emotions.

‘Don’t be obvious.’

No context was given, none was needed. Matty knew exactly what you meant.

“Why are you here?” his voice comes out shaky and unsteady, meek. Unlike him. He knows the question sounds stupid, evident in the smug grin that spreads onto your face as the door falls shut behind him. Finally facing him, you lean against a desk, arms reached behind you, holding you up.

“Could ask the same for you.” you speak slowly, your inflection almost making you seem bored. Your hair occupies you as you twirl it around, eventually brushing it out of your face entirely. Matty takes a timid step forward, holding the now unfolded piece of paper up between two fingers, the ink now slightly smudged.

“You left me a note.” “I know.” Your response is quick, direct. Matty’s eyes are glazed over, the sight oh-so familiar.

Memories from that day rush through you, your body responding involuntarily. You can still feel his hands caressing your things, hiking your skirt up further, further, until he finally saw what he wanted. His mouth around your fingers, tongue lapping at your fingertips, eye contact remaining unbroken. The thought makes your head spin, a barely there blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Why?” you tut at him, getting up and standing straight as he continues slowly walking over to you, his hair falling over his face in the same way it did when he was knelt in front of you, looking up with those adoring eyes of his.

“You didn't really listen to me, hm?” Matty perks up at your statement, slightly confused. You run a finger up his arm, feeling goosebumps erupt on his skin. He twitches, his whole body reacting to your touch.

“I mean you weren't, were you? Not-obvious, I mean.” You watch as it finally clicks in his head. The note.

‘Don't be obvious.’

He had tried to not be, his half-hearted attempts at keeping his distance proving rather difficult as instinct took over him, not caring what he was ‘supposed’ to do.

You huff at his lack of response as he just stands there, looming above you. You aren't tall, not by a long shot, but somehow your difference in height doesn't play a role in the way he molds to your words, like putty in your hands.

“What do you want?” you scoff in his face, rolling your eyes. Your nails graze against his upper arm before pulling away completely. Matty watches as you circle around him slowly, like a predator watching prey, your gaze making every survival instinct dissipate.

“That's quite the loaded question, don't you think?” Matty nods in response, automatically. You watch him for a few moments as he lets the note drop to the floor. His breathing is unsteady as you get closer with every step, his body moving to keep facing you until his back hits the same wooden desk you had been leaning on.

“Are you nervous?” Matty clears his throat before answering, caught off-guard by your sudden question.

“What gives you that impression?”

You gesture downwards with your eyes, and he follows, growing red as he realizes what you meant. His untucked shirt is crumpled in his hands, fingers toying with the buttons as he mindlessly twists them around and ‘round, pulling at the fabric.

“That.”

Matty ceases his movements, his hands now glued to his side as you eye him up and down. The top three buttons on his shirt are undone, revealing his collarbones and neck, skin smooth and milky as your first instinct is to reach out and touch him.

“Do I make you nervous?” your voice cracks a bit towards the end, the illusion of calmness, of indifference, faltering. Matty just stares at you, his heart beating at a thousand miles an hour as you take a step closer, effectively pinning him against the desk. Now, he could easily push you away, putting distance between your bodies. But he doesn't. He doesn't want to.

“Answer me.”

A beat of silence.

“No, you don’t.”

You tut again, shaking your head in disappointment. Matty squirms under your touch as you trail your hand up his chest, popping a four button as you speak.

“I never took you for a liar, Matthew.” The condescension coating your words makes his eyes widen, looking down at you with a wanton look on his face, silently begging.

You reach down with your free hand, looping your fingers through his belt loops. Rather violently, you pull him towards you, pressing your bodies flush against each other. Matty’s reaction is delicious, a whimper spilling from his lips, the proximity making him hazy, wanting only one, single thing.

“D’you want me to kiss you?” you coo, your faces dangerously close as you tease him, his curls threading through your fingers as he nods vigorously, absolutely shameless.

“Please.” it’s high pitched, the word, only adding to the growing heat between your legs. Your knees feel weak as he reacts to you, eyes wide and rapidly blinking, darting from your lips back up to meet yours.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me again?” it’s mean, you know it is, but you cant help yourself. His horrified expression only feeds into your taunts, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You read him well, perfectly predicting the way you knew he was going to try to bring your lips together, impatient as ever.

His attempt is futile, your tight grip in his hair pulling him back, the sharp pain making him cry out.

“Ah, not so fast sweetheart.” his tongue darts out to wet his lips, not daring to move further. His breath hitches audibly as you skifully unbutton the rest of his shirt, his eyes never leaving your face even as you look down.

“I thought you were going to be good for me, what happened?” you say, the dissatisfaction evident in your voice. Matty stutters out an apology, tripping over his words as the sensation of your hand against his chest becomes too much at once, too hot.

He shudders as you feel him up, hand running through his hair to ground himself, hyper aware of the unlocked door of the classroom you’re currently in. His shirt fully unbuttoned, you take a small step back, eyes raking over his body, taking in the sight before you.

“Don’t stop– please– I want you.”

“Then be still.” Matty nods in response, shifting around until he finally sits on top of the desk, feet dangling slightly off the edge.

“So obedient now, what changed?” Your hands feeling around the pockets of your skirt, smiling when they come upon exactly what you were hoping to find.

“I-” Matty cuts himself off, words getting caught in the base of his throat. His voice is low, raspy as he tries to answer, but your fluid movements distract him too much.

“Go on, speak.” your tone is assertive, commanding even, only disorienting him more. Matty doesn't know what to feel, how to react. But what he does know is how to keep this from stopping. He doesn't ever want it to stop.

“You’re so pretty.”

He knows he sounds pathetic, but it's all he can muster, every fiber of his being telling him to lunge forward, smash his lips against yours, feel you against him.

“Well, sweetheart.” you giggle, pulling out a small object from the depths of your pockets, running your fingers over the cool metal. “Flattery gets you everywhere.”

A sigh of relief leaves Matty as your hands make contact with his neck, the feeling of your touch driving him insane. He arches into you, his chest pressing against yours as you linger, a thousand fantasies rushing through both your minds.

A high-pitched whine rips itself from Matty as your lips press against the hollow of his throat, biting into the skin harshly. Nipping at his neck, you relish in the noises he makes, his eyes screwing shut as you run your tongue over his collarbones, coating the skin in your spit.

The small click of a lipstick tube uncapping is deafening, his eyes immediately snapping the source of the noise. You grin at his reaction, hands gripping the edge of the desk he was sitting on so hard, you could see his knuckles turning white.

“What are you–” Matty starts, his body flushed the same shade of red as the product in your hand, complimenting it perfectly.

You shush him quickly as he looks at you and then the lipstick, his bottom lip bitten raw.

“I didn’t really know what this was at first, you know.” you speak, twisting the base of the lipstick, slowly revealing more and more of the ruby red. Matty’s full attention is on you, his chest moving up and down rapidly, trying to calm himself down. His watery eyes only spur you on, small pants leaving his lips as you resume your feather light touches, never giving him exactly what he wanted.

“You’re so responsive, I barely have to touch you.” you watch as he writhes under you, still taller despite being sat down. It didn't make a difference, the power he so willingly handed over to you making it all disappear.

“You’d let me do anything to you.”

It isn't even a question but a statement, because you know, and so does Matty. Sweat glistens on his bare chest, reflecting the little light in the room, making him appear to be glowing. You don't know how long you’ve been in that classroom, and frankly, you couldn’t care less.

“Please, I can't do this anymore. Fuckk– just touch me, properly, please.”

His words lick pleasure up your spine and you let him beg more, a small, cruel part of you wanting to prolong this even further. Knowing you couldn't, and that your teacher was most definitely noticing your prolonged absence, you sigh loudly, cupping his face with one hand, a sickly sweet smile making Matty’s head spin.

“If you even try moving, I’ll stop.”

Matty expects you to put your hands on him, run them over his body, maybe make him kneel again. He expects you to finally kiss him, feel your tongue against his as you take over him completely, barely letting him breathe.

What he doesn't expect is for you to drop to your knees in front of him.

The tip of the lipstick against his skin is cool, the product smearing over his stomach. Matty doesn't know how to react, his eyes peering down to get a clear glimpse of what you’re doing, not daring to move. He sees the distinct pattern of letters, the word you’re writing indiscernible from his angle.

“Perfect.”

You mutter as you watch the color glide over his skin, the contrast of red against it making your heart beat faster, hand shaking slightly. He can't control the small twitches of his body as you hold onto his thigh for stability, adding a small heart at the end of your little masterpiece. A single word.

Pushing yourself off the floor, Matty tried to make out the writing on his body, failing miserably. Your phone is heavy in your hand as you swipe right, opening your camera app. He isn't paying attention to you at all, watching in awe how the red on his stomach beautifully stands out, running a finger over it lightly.

“Smile.” you grin, his eyes snapping up to meet yours just in time for the camera to flash.

He looks breathtaking, shirt unbuttoned, his hair messily falling into his face. The flash darkens the background behind him, making him the sole focus of the picture. You admire him for a few moments, a fond smile spreading onto your face. He looks utterly fucked out, despite your touches being barely-therea at best, it was enough.

It’s only then that you finally kiss him, hand wrapping around the base of his neck as you lick into his mouth, greedily drinking in his soft moans of surprise. Matty’s hands find your lower back, moving up and down your sides before finally settling onto your waist, gripping it tightly.

The kiss is hot, desperate as Matty’s back arches, your other hand finding its place on his shoulder. The feeling of his hands on your waist shoots straight to your core, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to relieve some of that aching pressure.

You’re first to pull away, lungs burning for air. Fingers raking through his hair, you take your phone back out, flashing the screen at him. His eyes widen at the image of him, the word you had painted onto him clearly visible.

‘Sweetheart’ adorned the tensed muscles of his stomach, a small heart placed right after the word, your handwriting easily recognisable. Your fingers ghost over the writing, smudging the heart slightly, bringing it up to his lips.

Matty parts them instinctively, letting you brush the color onto his bitten and bruised lips, faintly red. The sight makes you stop dead in your tracks, and you suck in a deep breath.

“I think you look gorgeous, don't you think?” you whisper into his ear, taking his earlobe between your teeth as you lightly bite down, greatly enjoying the choked gasp that leaves him. Matty is speechless, eyes glued to the screen now in his hands.

“We’ve been gone an awfully long time,” you breathe, gesturing at the clock that hung above the rusty chalkboard at the front of the classroom. “Better get back.”

Matty grabs onto you in protest, almost letting your phone drop onto the floor.

“Please, I can't–” you cut him off again, pressing a finger to his lips in a condescending manner, watching the look of hope vanish from his face.

“School is actually rather important to me, I can't have my grades dropping.” your words sound oddly sincere as you toy with the bottom of Matty’s shirt, slowly doing up the buttons again. The red disappears behind the crisp black fabric, completely unnoticeable to anyone else but the two of you. Your little secret.

Matty wants to argue, but he knows better than to contradict you, instead letting you fix him up. Your hands brush his hair out of his face, flushed an adorable shade of pink, making you smile. You even fix his collar for him, making sure it wasn't flipped up or open, your lingering fingers tracing his jawline tenderly.

“How else am I meant to tutor you if I don't know the material?”

Your words pierce through Matty’s thoughts, bringing him back down to earth. It wasn't just a statement, but a promise. Promise of more of whatever this was, a glimmer of hope returning to him. He wanted this more than fucking anything, even if your constant, deliberate, teasing drove him mad.

“Come to mine on Wednesday, i’ll show you how to do the assignment.” The way you speak is so casual, so normal, like nothing had just happened. Matty wonders if it had all been a weird, messed up daydream, but the phone in his hand proved him wrong. He hands the phone to you timidly, not wanting to let go of that moment.

Straightening out your own clothes, you take it from him, tucking it away in your pocket. Matty wants to reach out, touch you, feel you again. He stops himself, your back now turned as you walk away, hand resting on the doorknob.

You glance over your shoulder before you open the door, shooting him a tantalizing grin.

“Don’t miss me too much, sweetheart.''

The pet name does something to him he can't describe, a floaty, disorienting cloud falling over his thoughts. Matty’s blush returns, his face hot.

Wednesday. He keeps repeating the sentence in his mind.

‘Don't miss me too much, sweetheart’

How cant, not when you leave him like this, desperate and wanting nothing more than any little bit you’d give him, every touch like pure ecstasy.

Five days.

Five incredibly long days.

One hundred and twenty hours until he finally sees the inside of your bedroom, until youre finally, finally alone.

Matty lets his fingers trace the word over the material of his shirt, heart pounding in his chest. The shrill ring of the bell is muted as he replays the scene in his mind, over and over again. Your hand on his thigh, kneeling in front of him. The lipstick against his skin, the bright flash of your phone.

Wednesday can't come any faster, but he still wishes it would.

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anniebear-92 · 11 months

Text

Makeup And Coffee

As I promised I would release a little short for being non existent for a bit :)

Summary: Katsuki is your best friend and neighbor that has lived next door since you were small. You both have a crush and are too dumb to make a move. <3 He comes over to bother you and ends up having soft boy time with you.

Katsuki opened his eyes as his consciousness awoke from slumber, his arm draped over his eyes to shield from the glare of morning light. He let his arm slide to the bed, blinking rapidly before catching the red numbers of his clock indicating it was early in the morning, just a few minutes before 8 Am.

With a deep groan he lifted himself from his bed and shuffling into the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth with one hand and rubbed the remaining sleep from his eye, the events from the previous evening brought him back to full awareness. His parents had indicated they were going to be out early this morning and running errands for their clothing brand all day. He was set to be all alone and was determined that was not happening.

After finishing his business in the restroom, he threw on some clothes for the day and his favorite sweater over that faded skull tee shirt he has had for some time. Closing the front door behind him he took a turn around the corner of the wall that stretched crossed his yard into yours, making the journey next door to your front door.

Instead of knocking he turned the knob and let himself in, knowing full well he was welcome anytime just as you were in the Bakugo household. Inside he could hear the chatter coming from the kitchen pause as the front door opened. Your mother poked her head out and flashed a bright smile that he recognized as a mirror of your own. Clearly you got your mother's looks as a majority.

"Ah Katsuki! Come in and join us for coffee!" She waved him in and he strolled with hands in his deep pockets into the kitchen where your father sat at the island, cup in hand himself. He lifted the cup in salute while his eyes scanned over the paper laid out before him.

"Good morning young man."

Katsuki nodded in response as a cup was placed before him, "Here sweetheart, have you come to hang out with our daughter today? Surely you didn't come to drink coffee with old people like us!"

Your father snorted with a small "Speak for yourself." earning a softswat from his wife's dainty hand. "Parents are out today, figured I didn't want to be alone." Katsuki took a sip of the dark drink, the warmth sliding down his throat and waking him even more.

She nodded in understanding, his mother and yours had been best friends for a very long time at this point. Meeting and bonding over their mutual children's bad behavior when they were called into the office of your primary school. Both Katsuki and you sat on the small plastic chairs, in your blue uniform with a star embordered over your chest. Dirt and cuts all over from your brawl after a disagreement over who would be All Might in your Heroes Vs. Villains game.

"Mitsuki did tell me she had a few errands to finish up today, you're welcome to hang out here." He grunted in thanks, head swiveling around as if he had realized you were no where to be found as of yet.

"Where is she anyway?" He sipped at his drink as your father lifted a finger towards the second floor above him.

"Still in bed after playing video games all damn night with her friends. If you plan on waking her 0 out of 10 would not recommend."

Katsuki snorted, almost inhaling his drink and earning a look of concern from your mother. He held up a hand to indicate his was just fine and she backed off onto her stool once again. He had to admit your father's humor was top notch for an extra.

"Oh if you're going to wake her you'll want this." Your mother slid a cup across the table, steam wafting from the liquid inside mixed just the way you like it.

"Think of it as a peace offering, so she doesn't rip your head off."

She finished placing the cup in his hand with a wink and began reading the newspaper over her husband's shoulder. Taking both cups he made his way up the stairs with a small smile on his face. If anything he hopes that one day your relationship was anything like your parents', even his own would be fine... He just needed to get the courage to ask you out!

Up the stairs he found himself outside your door just like many times before, instead of knocking he slid the door open slowly to confirm if you were still sleeping or awake. His crimson gaze landed on the bed, you were wrapped up like a little caterpillar all cocooned in the blanket. The only thing visible were your closed eyes, forehead and hair that stuck each way from the pillows. Snug as a bug in a rug.

Stalking over on his tip toes, socks slipping over the carpet quiet as a mouse in order not to wake you early. Setting down the cups he smiled softly at your serene face, wishing he could've been the stuffed bear clutched in your arms instead.

Sitting on the side of your bed he must've been having a soft moment by leaning over and poking your shoulder softly. However still being Bakugo he whispered, "Oi, dumbass. Wake up."

When you didn't move in the least he huffed, trying once again he placed his hand on your shoulder and gave a little shove. "Oi! Dumbass!"

With a groan you flipped over, hand shooting out in a stretch while catching Katsuki upside the cheek. He flinched back in shock, his own hand rubbing the affected area. Losing the softness from before he now stood to brace himself for the next steps. He jumped onto the bed, full weight crashing down on you as the next sounds became colorful curse words.

"WHO THE FU-" You started, arms flailing at your attacker. You hands connected a few times as Katsuki struggled to block and catch them, repeating over and over "Oi! It's me! CHILL OUT!"

The struggle continued for a few moment before he finally whisper yelled "Stop! Your parents are going to think I'm doing freaky shit to you!"

He placed a hand over your mouth, your e/c eyes now glaring holes into his face as he gave a triumphant smirk of accomplishment when you went still.

"Morning dipshit."

"Gerr Ouph!" You attempted through the warm palm of his hand. He smirked even larger as he let his full weight drop on you once again, a oof leaving you along with the air.

"Dammit Katsuki! Get your fat ass off me!" You growled against his palm as he shrugged, "Nah, your bed is comfortable even if a bit lumpy."

Your response was a quick swipe of your tongue against his skin, the hand shooting back like you burned him.

"EW BITCH!" He snarled as you took the opportunity to use your weight against him, earning him flailing backwards onto the floor with a thump. Leaning over the bed triumphantly you smiled wide.

"Good, where you belong. Night night." Wrapping yourself back into the burrito of blankets, a knock at the door startling you both.

"Everything okay in here kiddos?" The voice of your father made it though the crack of the door, opening it slightly to see Katsuki flattened on the floor and your barely open eyes.

"We have a bed bug problem apparently and I delt with it." You waived your hand at the floor at the boy laying still on his back, a hand over his eyes in annoyance.

"Well do I need to call pest control?" Your father's eyebrow raised in amusement as you shook your head. "Nope Call me able, because I was able to take care of the pest."

Your father chuckled at your silly response while closing the door behind him, Katsuki took the opportunity to hop onto his feet, glaring down at you with a vengeance.

"The hell was that for?"

You showed your favorite finger to him, "It's way too damn early for your shenanigans."

He leapt towards you again, earning yet another wrestling match.

You finally squirmed from under him and managed to get a foot into his side, kicking him to the floor once more.

"It's too early for your shit Katsuki!" You crossed your arms glaring down at him, he mirrored easily as he shrugged. "It's 8:30 you lazy shit."

"It's 8:30 am on a Saturday you absolute twat!"

Picking himself off the floor for the second time that morning he grabbed the cup meant for you, eyes lighting up from the sight of the hot drink you made grabby hands for the cup.

"Your mom made you coffee." He slipped the beverage into your hands as you squealed and took a sip, your mother really got you.

"Delicious." Speaking in your best Elmo voice, you grabbed your phone as Katsuki invaded your bed, flopping beside you on his own.

His eyes began flipping between you and his screen, watching as you sat up and scratched at your hair with a large yawn. It was only now he realized your attire, a tank top and itty bitty shorts. Not a bra to be seen, his face heating up as he returned his attention to his phone to avoid being considered a perv.

"Who were you playing games with last night?" He finally started as your yawn completed.

"Kami, Sero and Kiri. Everytime I said I was going to bed I got 'One more game! Yeah come on it's not that late!' " You mocked with an attempt at a deep voice earning a snort from him as your phone pinged with a notification.

Picking the device back up and reading the message a small smile crossed your lips. Who the fuck has you smiling like that?

Katsuki took a sip of his coffee to avoid jealousy when another ping signaled a response to your own. He let a few more notifications go on while you continued a conversation when he finally couldn't take it any longer.

"Who the fuck is bothering you this early?"

Your eyes turned to his, narrowing as you curled a lip in a snarl. "you are you dumb bitch!"

He bared his own teeth at you while leaning forward, "I'm not a dumb bitch you are!" Before he could even finish another ping came from your device, his large hand snatching it from your fingers.

You squealed a protest as he began searching to find out who had taken your attention from him.

He growled as non other than his green haired rival smiled from his profile picture a top the thread. "That nerd has been messaging you?"

He texted something while avoiding your snatching hands in attempts to reclaim the device.

Once finished he tossed the device into your waiting hands, "What the hell did you say to him?"

He let a small smirk cross his lips without vocalizing what he wrote.

"Oi, Fuck off she's busy?" You read aloud in an incredious tone.

Sorry, didn't mean to bother? The response came in almost immediately you shot a quick apology for Katsuki's attitude and indicated you'd catch up with your friend later.

"Well anyway since I'm clearly not getting sleep, it's time to de-troll for the day."

Katsuki nodded along as if what you said was the absolute truth. "You do be looking like a gremlin this morning. Though that's nothing unusual."

A pillow smacked him right in the face and his phone from his hand. He growled as he caught your annoyed glare. "Just proved my point dumbass." He leaned over and poked your arm, "Besides are you going to apologize for licking my hand earlier you nasty bitch?"

Cocking a brow you sized up his stupidly handsome face. "Apologize to you?" He nodded as you snorted, "Apologize is a big word for Elmo."

Smoothing down your hair, you stood from the bed finally to do business in the restroom for the day. Stopping at your closet you began pulling out garments, starting with a bra. Katsuki's eyes quickly averted upon seeing the item and heat rushed to his face once more. His eyes returned to your rear barely contained by the shorts as you turned around when a small "Damn." slipped from his lips invoulntairly.

He turned his head as quick as possible back to his phone, he wasn't looking at your ass. Him? No...

"Get a good look did you?" You popped out a hip with a grin and he huffed. "Meme on my phone."

"Sure it was." Rolling your eyes, you made your way to the restroom to change into your clothes for the day. After a shower, brushing your teeth and dressing, you re-entered your bedroom to find Katsuki still scrolling away on his phone.

His eyes raised to you and landed on the large bag clutched in your hand. "The fuck is all that?"

You set the bag down on the bed beside him, grabbing a travel mirror and plopping down yourself. "My essentials for the day."

His eyes rolled so hard you thought they would pop out of his head.

You began fixing your hair out of your way in order to begin making up your face as he watched. "Still look like a gremlin."

You gave an amused snort, "Look like a gremlin and yet you're the one looking at my ass."

He balked, dropping his phone. "The fuck I was! It was a meme on my phone!"

You chuckled a bit before leaning over slightly to become eye level with the red faced boy. "Didn't know your phone was attached to my shorts."

He pushed your head back with a growl and manical laughter on your part. "Whatever... you got a nice ass okay?" He huffed the quiet comment and you pretended not to hear.

Opening your bag finally you set up the mirror ahead of you and began your moisturizing routine, once all finished you moved on to foundation and bounced it into your skin with the beauty sponge.

Katsuki had reverted to his phone, eyes shifting to you every so often before he finally asked. "The fuck are you doing?"

You lowered the sponge and looked at him with half face covered. "Make up? Beauty takes work and time."

He clicked his teeth while looking you over, heat filling your face as he scrutinized your work so far.

"Don't need that shit. you're pretty without it." He mumbled, barely audible but you caught it. Heat flushed your face as you whispered a Thank you.

"I like make up, it makes me feel good wither I look good without it or not."

He grunted in response and you went back to bouncing the blender to blend the foundation in.

You were now blending concealer with the previous layer when you noticed Katsuki blatantly staring. "You are beating the shit out of your face, how does that make you feel good?"

A loud cackle left you as he began digging into your bag, his curious nature shining through. You had already set out what you planned to use, extras still in the bag as he began picking out objects and inspecting them. He paused to check your progress, seeing the light lines and dots you had placed along your face he smirked.

"You look like you're going to war with all that paint."

You paused to glare, raising the sponge towards him. "Watch it, or you're next!"

His glee dropped into defiance. "You wouldn't dare."

You gave a smug expression before reaching the sponge out threateningly towards his face. "Want to test that theory?"

He shook his head before returning to rummaging in the bag.

You continued your makeup routine as he began pulling things out of the bag and asking what they were. You found yourself giving answers as he demanded them.

"Eyeliner. Mascara. Another Mascara. Yes I have two of them! Actually three."

He finally put the bag down as you began flipping open pallets looking for colors you wanted to put on eyes for the day. He began picking up the pallets as you dropped them, his nose crinkling in disgust.

After finally finding the one that satisfied you, the rest were discarded towards him in a pile. Lifting a brush you began to blend in the first color while he watched shamelessly now. Moving to add another color Katsuki commented mindlessly, "Bet I could do that shit better than you."

The brush paused at your lid as you turned towards him. "Bet not."

His eyelids lowered in threatening manners. "You looking down on me?"

Shaking your head you resumed your brush strokes. "No, have you done make up before?" He shook his head and mumbled "Just that shitty black eye crayon for the mask..."

You knew it! He finally admitted to using eyeliner!

"My sweet Kit Kat, I've been doing make up for a few years now. Which is longer than you mind you. I know you can't." You gave him the sweetest smile knowing exactly what you were provoking.

"Give me that shit. Move." He snapped his fingers at the brush, grabbing back my bag and pallets as he began digging out things that interested him. Letting out a sigh you grabbed a bag of make up wipes and wiped away your hard work. Just the eyes though, the rest was too perfect.

Katsuki went through your brush set and confirmed what they were for with you and once he was satisfied he began dipping softly into the color with the bristles.

He first attempted one handed, however annoyed by the subtle movements of your head he finally raised his free hand to grip your chin gently between his long fingers. The music you had turned on upon leaving the bathroom turned into a soft song, his rough fingers adjusting you with gentle presses and squeezes as he added color after color. You peeked one eye open to watch the determination on his face as he concentrated to prove your ass wrong.

"Close." He snapped gently and you listened. He finished up his last strokes and then tapped your knee to get your attention. "Where's your liner shit?"

You grabbed the liner you preferred and handed it to him as he inspected his work. He removed the cap with his teeth and held it gently between his lips. Your face heated at his serious eyes, while he waited for you to close your own once again.

You listened to his soft breathing, feeling absolutely serene with your best friend, okay long time crush pampering your face.

He was half way through lining your first eye when your door cracked unknowingly to both of you. A soft smile upon both of your lips as he worked, a flash and click of a phone camera startled you both. Your eyes flew open and Katsuki luckily pulled the liner away before it could smudge. Both of your jaw dropped expressions were candy to your mother's eyes.

"And that one goes to Mitsuki."

Katsuki groaned, "No! I'll never hear the end of that one!"

She chuckled, it was already sent and long gone. "Sorry dear, I came to let you know dad and I are going to grab some groceries for dinner." She leaned against the frame while watching us closely. "Will you be joining us for dinner Katsuki?"

He gave a shrug and she smiled. "I'll just plan for you. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

You groaned loudly as she left with a loud cackle, heading downstairs to her waiting husband.

Katsuki sighed heavily and grabbed your chin one final time. He finished the liner and mascara before he handed you the mirror once more. "Well?"

you turned your face back and forth, inspecting his work. "Not too horrible I guess."

His smug expression dropped into annoyance as you chuckled. "I'm kidding! It actually looks nice."

He rolled his eyes as you crossed your arms. "Question is though... can you match it?" You pointed towards your clean eye and he huffed. "Of course I can."

After finishing his work he watched as you added in your normal highlighter, blush and set it all with your favorite mist. He coughed deliberately as you rolled your eyes. "It's just a mist to set the makeup chill."

You grabbed his chin just as he did and he scrunched his eyes closed as you lightly misted his face. "See? Big baby."

He pouted when you released him and you snorted. "You're adorable when you pout."

His face darkened as he turned his face away, flopping onto the bed.

"Shut up."

"Anyway you're taking me to breakfast."

He shot upright with a scowl, "Who the fuck said so?" You smiled brightly and he felt his heart flutter at your beautiful face, knowing he had done your look today.

"I did. It's payback for my rude awakening!"

He huffed sitting up. "Fine hurry the fuck up."

Brightening up at the promise of food you grabbed your must haves before opening the door. "Way to my heart? Food."

You exited the room to leave a flustered Katsuki in the room. He took a deep breath and followed you. Maybe he would confess at lunch.

#bakugo imagine #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #soft bakugo #this ended up longer than i planned.

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space-woomy · 2 months

Text

How my agents stack up agaisnt each other in a fight

I think that with my agents, in terms of fighting each other, they all have specific circumstances that determine whether they win or not. Like, none of them are “The most powerful agent” or anything like that, anyone if them could beat the other with the right circumstances.

So I'm gonna talk about that

(Also this is Cap'n 3 (Molly), Side order 8, and Side order 4 (Alex). Basically the current and most recent version of them. This also isn't what I think in terms of the actual cannon, it's just my agent ocs)

In terms of raw physical power, it goes:

0. Callie

Eight

Three

Four

8 is the strongest physically, and 4 is the weakest. 4 can't beat 3 or 8 in an arm wrestling contest.

I don't remember where I was going with this. But here's how I think the match ups go. This is a single splat type of fight, like how you knock out agent 3 in the O.E fight or something.

3 v.s 8

They fight for a few minutes and then make out-

If it's a one on one, on flat ground, weapons or not, Eight wins a good chunk of the time. They're pretty evenly matched, but 8 wins most of the time. But if their fighting in the domes, the city, even an apartment or a house of some kind, really any sort of urban area, Three wins 99% of the time.

8 has formal military training. She knows how to fight someone one on one, how to take them down easily and how to dodge and read attacks…of someone else with formal military training. 3 on the other hand, has pretty basic fighting skills. I went over this in a different post but that one’s gone now so I'll say it again: 3 does the best with adapting to a fight with the environment. They know basic military moves and tricks from cuttlefish, more intricate self defense and fighting techniques from Marie, and their most valuable skill of adapting from Callie. Callie taught them to use their environment to their advantage, and 3 took that and ran with it. On different missions in splat 1 they'd pull some goofy shit. 3 would be getting chased, run around a corner, find a steel chair, grab it and wait until someone came around the corner and smack them with that shit. Or they'd just punch them if they're was no chair. They'd face off against someone, and instead of actual shooting their gun, they'd throw it at them, hit the enemy, punch them, and then shoot. They would rip a plank or lead pipe off a wall and use that to fight you.

Eight, and most other soldiers inkling or octoling, don't have the the knowledge or skill to be able to deal with 3's loony tunes bullshit.

Even giving them both of their signature weapons, it doesn't change anything. 3 just gets another thing to Throw at 8.

So 3 v 8: if it's 1 on 1 on a flat arena with minimal cover, 8 wins most of the time.

If it's any area with any objects that can be picked up, 3 wins 99.99% of the time

3 vs 4

4 is the most agile of the 3 agents, but the weakest in physical strength. She has more standard training than 3, but less than 8. Because of this, she learned to make fights quick and decisive. Deal with things quickly. Three wins most of the time, nearly 100% of the time if it’s with no weapons. But if weapons are allowed, Four Definitely has a better chance (not too much tho…). But, if they have weapons, and are in an environment with lots of different elevating terrain, and a lot of cover, then Four has a much higher chance of winning. She’d use the cover and different elevations to try and get better angles and doge roll into quick splats. It’s not a perfectly even match, Three is also use to more urban areas to fight in, but Four does definitely takes a good amount matches.

8 v.s 4

Again, if it's one on one, no weapons, Eight wins. It's even less closer than 3 v.s 8. Four doesn't do well with physical, one on one combat compared to Eight and Three. She's good in her own right, but not as good as the other 2. Even with weapons on a neutral arena, Eight takes it 90% of the time.

The only time where 4 wins a majority of the time is in an environment with lots of varying terrain, a more urban setting. Eight is used to mainly head on combat, and couldn't keep up with 4 dropping in and out and getting quick splats.

Conclusion

Overall, with my agents, what determines whether they win or not is if they're in their preferred fighting environment. 3 is the best in urban areas with lots of objects and varying terrain, 4 is best with varying terrain with lots of cover, and 8 is best with neutral terrain with the least amount of cover possible

In terms of overall being the “Strongest”, 3 is the “strongest agent” with the highest win ratio between everyone, 8 is the second “strongest”, and Four is the “weakest” between them all.

Don't get me wrong though, any of them could beat the other in a fight, with or without their favored circumstances.

If u have any questions then do the ask thing

Hit the autism button

#splatoon #splat2n #splatoon 3 #space text #agent 3 #agent 8 #agent 4 #captain 3

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trans-girl-nausicaa · 1 year

Text

tumblr choose tour own adventure part 20

STATS:

AGGRESSION: 4

CAUTION: 0

HOMOSEXUALITY: 8

ENDURANCE: 1

SKILL: 4

INVENTORY:

[Wallet] [Cash: $14.50]

[Mobile phone] [Battery: 100%]

[Keys]

[Antique Czech Typewriter] [Ink ribbons: 0]

[Antique Czech Lighter] [Fuel level: 1000%]

[Antique CZ 75 Pistol, 9mm, Automatic] [Ammunition: 50]

[Sharpened Metal Stake]

>Let Bunny examine you.

“I’ll be okay. I just need to figure this out,” you say to Bunny and Louisiana.

“Bunny. Please help me understand this.”

“O-okay, just come sit over here,” Bunny says, gesturing back to the folding chairs by the kitchen table.

You comply.

Bunny goes to the hall closet, takes out her backpack, and brings it to the table.

Louisiana and Bunny sit down across from you.

The three of you are still wearing your pajamas.

Bunny takes out a her notebook, a pre-packaged wooden tongue depressor, a flashlight, a small, fold-up magnifying glass, and a small white card.

She puts on a pair of nitrile medical examination gloves.

“Okay, if at any point you’re uncomfortable, let me know and we can stop,” says Bunny.

You nod.

“I’m just going to start with a visual examination of your, um, your mouth.”

You open your mouth.

“Louisiana, can you hold this?” says Bunny.

Louisiana takes the flashlight, pointing it at the inside of your open mouth. She clicks it on.

Bunny peers into your mouth.

“Hmm,” she says.

She brings her magnifying glass to her eye.

She looks around for a while. You don’t know what she is looking for.

She pokes your tongue with her gloved hand.

“Wow… it’s completely… but how…?”

Bunny puts down the magnifying glass and unwraps the tongue depressor.

“Say ‘aah,’ please,” she says.

She uses the tongue depressor to move your tongue down, to the left, to the right, and up.

“Yeah, okay,” she says.

“Whuh?” you ask.

“Ehhh… I’m not sure yet. One more thing.”

Bunny holds up the card.

“I’m going to ask you to bite on this, okay?”

“Ahuh,” you say.

Bunny places the card horizontally across your bottom row of teeth.

“Bite down, please.”

You bite, and you can feel the card ripping as your teeth punch through it.

“And open,”

You do, releasing the card.

Bunny holds it up. There is a semicircle of holes where your teeth punctured the paper. Seemingly satisfied, she places the card on the table.

“Okay, I need to look at your neck wound too. Can you tilt your head to the side?”

Not sure of the relevance, you tilt your head, allowing for easy access to the wound on the side of your neck.

It’s still sore, and it stings more as you flex your neck muscle.

Bunny stands up and leans over you.

She holds something up to your neck, and you hear the scratching of a pen on paper.

“Okay,” she says, sitting back down.

“…Do you need to see anything else?” you ask.

“No,” says Bunny, writing in her notebook. “Just let me know if anything else changes. I’m not a doctor anyway.”

“Not a doctor? Then…”

“Okay, I’m not a doctor, but I’m the most knowledgable human in the world about vampire biology,” Bunny says, pausing her writing to wag a finger at you.

You shrug.

“So what’s the deal with my mouth?” you ask.

Bunny puts down her notebook and looks you in the eye.

You look down.

“Okay, there’s a few conclusions I can make based on my examination of your mouth, teeth, and tongue. Firstly, the biology I’m seeing here is not human.”

Louisiana interjects.

“Hey! Just because her teeth look a little… different… that doesn’t mean that she’s not human!”

Bunny holds up her hands.

“I don’t mean that in an insulting way. I’m just stating the facts. Adult human bodies don’t have the capacity to make such drastic changes to organs overnight, or grow new teeth, or-“

“That’s just your opinion, you’re not a doctor. She’s not a vampire,” interjects Louisiana again.

“No, I agree!” says Bunny. “She’s not a vampire.”

“What?” says Louisiana.

Bunny holds up her notebook, and the card that you bit.

“Look here,” says Bunny.

“This card is her bite profile, and this is a drawing of the bite profile on her neck.”

There is a little drawing of a bite diagram. You’re not sure you understand it.

“What does this mean,” you ask.

“So, I’m comparing your bite profile to the bite profile of your neck wound. A vampire has two prominent fangs and the rest of their teeth are small and relatively blunt. That’s what we see in your neck wound. However, your bite profile is different than that. You don’t have those two characteristic large canine fangs, surrounded by smaller human-typical teeth, instead, you have two rows of these medium-sized pointed teeth, all about the same size. Honestly you have a bite profile similar to, well… some type of lizard? Or a shark? Hard to say.”

“SHE’S NOT A LIZARD OR SHARK,” declares Louisiana.

“No, no, of course not! Many different species of animal have similar characteristic sometimes… Um, but, well, yeah, that’s my hypothesis: You’re neither human nor vampire, but something different.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better,” you say sarcastically.

“Ok, but, you SHOULD feel better. What this means is that you’re not going to turn into a vampire or a thrall. Those are two really bad outcomes that you don’t have to worry about.”

“But what IS going to happen? Are there gonna be more changes like this?” asks Louisiana.

Shit. You hadn’t thought of that.

“Umm… I honestly don’t know. It’s possible. Vampires and thralls only take a few hours to complete their change from a human, but if you’re going through a… um, different change, there’s no way to know how long it’s going to take, or if it’s done already,” says Bunny, flipping through her notebook.

“There’s also no way to know if I’m going to survive,” you say.

Bunny opens her mouth, then closes it.

She writes something in her notebook, then closes it and puts it on the table.

The three of you sit there in silence for a bit, and you can hear birds chirping outside.

Louisiana grabs your hand and squeezes it.

“No matter what happens, you won’t be alone,” she says.

“…Gonna get some sunlight in here,” says Bunny, and she stands up, walks to the window, and opens the curtains.

Morning sunlight streams into the apartment.

And then, the window shatters, as a brick flies through the window, hits the ceiling, and falls to the floor.

“JESUS-“

“Fuck!”

A moment later, a second object flies through the window. For an instant, you can see it: A bottle with a flaming rag tied on to it.

It hits the wall and blossoms into a pool of fire.

#CYOA #choose your own adventure

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annaphoenix1994 · 2 years

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Ch.8 - El Sin Nombre - Part 2

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Soap is interrogated by Valeria for intel; Alejandro and his team raid the home in search of El Sin Nombre; Alejandro is face-to-face with an old friend.

Soap was startled when the brief moment of silence was interrupted by the burlap sack being ripped from his head. Looking ahead, he saw two of the guards that brought him in staring at him with intimidating eyes. "Hermano..." Alejandro said in a low voice, putting his hand on Soap's shoulder.

"Alejandro?" Soap asked, puzzled, before looking to his left to recognize the second pair of eyes to be Kiera. "Kiera? How did you--"

"No time. Listen, give them good intel in there. Don't lie. Tell them everything they want to know or you'll die here."

"Tell them everything?"

"Everything. Mexican Special Forces, American PMCs, Shadow Company. Phillip Graves. All truth."

"Even your name?"

No reply.

The door to the elevators opened, Kiera having to stop herself from laughing at the man who appeared before him to have a very feminist stance to be a cartel member. He had a smug grin on his face as his hip was parked out and his chest was puffed out. "This him?" The man snickered.

"Si, senor." Alejandro replied.

"You got a name, hawk?" He questioned, poking at his preferred hairstyle.

"They call me Soap."

Diego scoffed, "What kind of a name is that? Let's go."

"I want to see El Sin Nombre." Soap stated.

"He wants to see the boss..." He sighed, momentarily taking a step back before grasping the collar of Soap's shirt. "You're only alive because you may have some information. And it better be good, guero, or I'm going to scalp that hawk right off your fucking head. Get the fuck out of my elevator."

"GeT tHe FuCk oUt Of mY ElEvaTor." Soap heard Kiera mock as Diego walked away, Alejandro nudging her shoulder as she was in one of her silly moods. Soap couldn't help but crack a smile too as he was thankful there was some ounce of comedic relief in the situation. He just hoped she wasn't going to be around when he was interrogated because of her mood.

And when she was in a goofy mood, she couldn't be looked at in a serious outcome due to a major laughing fit.

"This is my house. Which means you don't meet the boss until I say so. You don't speak unless spoken to. And mass importante - tell the fucking truth. 'Cause if you lie, I'll feed you to my dogs."

Soap gulped as he watched Diego beat one of his workers for snorting cocaine on the job, telling him that "the pain will keep you sharp".

"Las Almas is at war. You want to win? Don't disobey," Diego explained, rubbing his sore knuckles. "That is how the organization survives, and that is why the boss is here tonight."

"0-7, confirmed on Sin Nombre." Kiera whispered into her comm to Ghost once she and Alejandro split up.

"Copy that," Ghost replied back. "What's your 20?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. This is a big house."

"Well, that's comforting."

"I'll be making my way upstairs to see if I can find anything."

"Stay sharp." Ghost advised.

"I might."

You fucking better, Ghost rasped to himself, scanning the balconies of the mansion for any movement.

"El Sin Nombre is down here?" Soap asked Diego once coming to the end of a corridor.

"Heh, no, but Sin Nombre's personal sicara is," He said before opening the door. Oh, fuck, Soap thought at the sight before him. Two men, bound to a chair with a woman of power pacing back and forth between them with a gun in her hand. She was tattooed and thirsty for dominance - a demon drink if he had to say so. If Soap didn't know any better, he would've thought the sight before him was insanely attractive, but now that he was on an enemy's turf, he pushed that thought aside. "Valeria, there's one more. A gringo."

"Sit down." She demanded to him, nodding towards one of her guards to remove a deceased victim out from the chair before forcing Soap to sit in his place. Splatters of blood decorated the floor and a small crowd of cartel members gathered around Valeria. His eyes scanned the many exposed ones of the guards, stopping when he found the soft feminine eyes of Kiera. She nodded at him briefly, ready to cause a scene if she needed to. "Who's this?" She said to Diego in Spanish, expecting Soap to not understand.

"His name is Soap. He came to us."

Valeria chuckled, "Soap? And you let him in?"

"He says he has information."

Valeria kicked behind Diego's knees, grabbing his neck from behind as she pressed the tip of her knife into Diego's temple, threatening to penetrate the blade into his flesh. Badass bitch.

"We don't know him and he's seen our faces!"

"Valeria, we need intel - he could help us."

"He better. Or after I kill him, you'll be in that chair." She snarled before pushing him from her grasp. Fucking scared street dog, she thought after looking at Diego. Tucking your tail between your legs.

"Children!" She said, removing her semi-automatic pistol from her holster. "This is simple: I ask questions, you answer truthfully. Do not lie to me. Recently, we were protecting a friend in the mountains. Someone attacked us there. Who?" She said to Nunez, a Corporal who was assigned to protect the cartel when they called for reinforcements when Alejandro and his team breached their containment.

Nunez shrugged, "It... It was chaos. I didn't see--"

"In English for the white boy!" Valeria shouted.

"I-I think it was the Rivals Cartel."

Valeria then turned towards Soap, "Your turn, blanquito. Who attacked us?"

"It wasn't cartel. It was Mexican Special Forces."

"We found the bodies. Fuerzas Especiales," Valeria cocked her brow. "Now, how would an outsider know they were Mexican Special Forces and not you?" She asked Nunez.

"Maybe he was there!"

"You were there, asshole," Diego snarled at Nunez before pointing to Soap. "Maybe he was there, too."

"There were outsiders who were helping the Mexican Special Forces. Who were they?"

Don't say Kiera's name, Soap reminded himself as he wanted to protect her, recalling how she felt about Graves and what he was up to. Graves has an army, she doesn't...

"We-We heard them yelling in English... They were with the gringos, like him!" Nunez said.

"American PMCs. A group called Shadow Company." Soap answered, watching Valeria walk over to Diego.

"Los Vaqueros is working with Mercenaries." Valeria whispered.

"Those fucking snakes."

"You see?! I was right! It was the gringos!" Nunez bargained.

Valeria then pointed her gun at Nunez, "Can you even prove that "Shadow Company" even exists?"

"H-How can I prove this?"

Valeria scoffed at him before turning to Soap, "What about you? What proof to you have?"

"Check my pocket." Soap said in clear Spanish, shocking both Valeria and Diego as they assumed he had no idea what gringo even meant.

Valeria paused before putting her hand into the front pocket of Soap's jeans, pulling out the insignia patch Graves had given him.

"W-What is that?" Nunez asked nervously.

"Shadow Company's insignia... Proof." Soap answered, watching Valeria lean towards him, her face inches from his. She had an abrupt and intimidating gaze.

"Who leads Shadow Company? Give me a name."

"Phillip Graves."

Diego chuckled, "Fill graves. Fill graves, I like that."

"This man, Graves, what does he want?"

"The Iranian. He wants Hassan."

"How does he know that?" Diego asked Valeria.

"You can't trust him. You can't! I'm telling you!" Nunez pleaded.

"You've told us nothing!" Valeria shouted.

"No, no, no! Don't do that! Please, I don't want to die!"

"We pay you well, and this outsider knows more than you." Diego scoffed.

"Time to kill this useless motherfucker." Valeria said to Diego, smirking at Nunez before Diego pulled the trigger. Nunez's brain matter and blood managed to spew onto Soap's clothing, causing him to swallow hard within his throat, knowing he was going to be next.

Valeria pulled out her knife, approaching Soap, "How nice, did good here. Well done." She whispered to him, cutting his wrists free of the zip ties.

"We're going upstairs, gringo," Diego said to him, motioning for him to follow. "To be fucking clear, we're not done with you. Sin Nombre will decide your future." How comforting, Soap thought as he entered the same elevator that brought him down in the first place, Kiera being the only guard that was with Diego and Valeria. Where's Alejandro?

"Penthouse, 1-1." Kiera said to Alejandro in Spanish, desperately trying to make her voice sound deeper.

"Los Vaqueros is moving fast."

"I'll be in the penthouse with Sin Nombre." Valeria replied.

"When do I see El Sin Nombre?"

"Valeria is going to speak to the boss now. You will wait with the others."

"I have a feeling El Sin Nombre will be... very interested in talking to you."

The elevator opened, Alejandro's masked figure waiting for them. "I'll be in the ofrenda. No interruptions." He said to one of the other guards.

"Si, senor."

"I got him, man. They need you outside." Alejandro spoke to him.

"Hermano, you're alive."

"Aye, you too, mate."

"El Sin Nombre is in the penthouse - third floor." Kiera spoke to him.

"We'll need a keycard."

"I got you." She said, removing the knife from the sheath around the jeans she wore under the suit and handing it to Soap.

"Sweet." He said.

"Here, take this." Alejandro said, handing him a white balaclava.

"Why a mask?"

"Some can't be seen with the cartel. Let's move."

"Ghost, we're in." Soap said to his comrade.

"What've you got?"

"El Sin Nombre's in the penthouse. Third floor."

"Elevator is a straight shot. We just need Diego's keycard."

"Where's Diego?"

"The ofrenda. Second floor."

"You seein' anything, L.t?"

"If you can scout a way to the roof, there's access to the penthouse."

"I'm heading upstairs either way."

"Sergeant, I'm heading towards the second floor now." Kiera told Soap.

"Be careful, senora. If guards see you going towards the penthouse or the garage, they'll shoot on sight."

"I look forward to it."

Ghost gripped his rifle harder at her words, Don't be bloody stupid.

A few agonizing minutes of silence went by before Soap's voice could be heard, "Alejandro, Kiera - Diego's dead. I've got the keycard."

"Badass, Sergeant," Kiera complimented. "I'm coming back down from the second floor. I overheard one of the guards saying they found a body. Alejandro, I think we're fucked."

"Copy that, senora. Just stay sharp. We're in the calm for right now."

"Alejandro, security checkpoint up ahead before you get to where Sin Nombre is. I'm here."

"Aye."

"How'd she get there so fast?" Soap asked as he and Alejandro were descending the elevator.

"Senora moves like a cat, Hermano," Alejandro chuckled. "She'll probably have PID on Sin Nombre before we even get there."

"Let's hope so."

"Ghost, can you cover exterior? I'm hearing more and more guards coming this way." Kiera said over the comm.

"Copy that. Covering exterior now."

"Alejandro, Soap - breaching for entry into Sin Nombre's penthouse."

Kiera took her pistol and positioned it to where the barrel was horizontal to her forearm, preparing to use it as a makeshift set of brass knuckles to save on ammunition. She went to open the door, stating she was informing the guard on a possible intruder. The guard opened the door and Kiera didn't hesitate to attack, using the barrel of the pistol to hit him in the nose before hitting him in the jugular as well as the inside of his elbow, disarming him before taking his weapon and stabbing him in the neck with the tip of the barrel. It was a morbid and gruesome scene, but Kiera had seen worse. "Victor 1-1, I'm in. Bring the snake camera."

"Copy that. On your six."

Soap and Alejandro stepped over the body of Kiera's previous work to see her standing at the French doors that housed El Sin Nombre on the other side.

"Snake Cam is set. Time to get PID on El Sin Nombre." Alejandro sighed.

"Let's put a face to the nameless."

"The shipment from Spain arrived on schedule-"

"Boss, we should move!"

"Do not interrupt me when I'm working! If there's a fucking problem, then solve it!"

"I-I can assure you my men will conclude the arrangement and the packages will be in place--"

"Sin Nombre, we have to go now!"

Sin Nombre sighed before hanging up the phone, "Let's go, then."

"No fucking way!" Soap whispered in shock.

"What is it?"

"The Sicaria I met downstairs - Valeria - She's El Sin Nombre."

"Valeria?" Alejandro asked, the name pinging nostalgia to him. "Are you sure, Hermano?"

"Yes."

"We have to move," Alejandro said before tuning in to his comm. "Graves, Sin Nombre is posing as a female sicaria. We're moving in. You set?"

"Check."

"Ghost?"

"Ready."

"Take her alive."

"This is going to be fun." Kiera noted as she watched Alejandro kick the door open with a powerful thrust of his leg, he and Soap taking the first shots. I haven't fought a woman in a while...

Alejandro and Soap took the first shots, taking out two guards and clearing the way for Kiera to go after Valeria after seeing her shoot through the nearby door with one guard close by. She kept her weapon out, ready to take fire when the guard hit the gun from her hands, using his elbow to hit directly to her nose. Through blurry vision and pure adrenaline, she steadied herself, looking up at the man who was going to shoot her before seeing blood coming from his mouth.

He had been shot - a bullet clean through the nearby window.

Ghost had saved her life.

Soap and Alejandro took the left, seeing more guards piling in from the area and going first to clear them out. Removing the balaclava from her head, she used the cotton fabric to rid her nose of the blood and looked ahead. Valeria stood with a smirk on her face, eager.

"You sneaky punta," She scoffed. "Coming in here like this."

"Well," Kiera shrugged. "Quit making it too damn easy."

"You know you made a big mistake, right?" Valeria snarled in Spanish.

Kiera opened her arms, taunting her, "I'm right here. What're you going to do about it?"

Valeria charged at her, Kiera blocking the first blow with her elbow before Valeria delivered a powerful thrust to her abdomen, causing her to hunch over briefly. Kiera then created a hook with her right arm and punched her in the collarbone before grabbing her right arm and forcing it behind her back and shoving her to the nearby wall. Kiera was one for smart fighting, but Valeria was a brute force of nature. She was a challenge, to say the least. With Valeria's left arm above her head, she planted her feet before turning her torso, delivering a powerful blow to Kiera's temple.

Now angry, Kiera delivered a powerful punch to Valeria's sternum, causing her to cough in defeat. With the advantage, Kiera then used her leg to hit behind Valeria's knee, knocking her down completely.

Baring her teeth, Valeria used her free hand to punch the sensitive tissue above Kiera's knee, causing her to stumble backward. Using her right elbow, Kiera was able to block herself from a potential break of the nose as Valeria had full intentions to use her forehead to knock her. "And fucking stay down." Kiera shouted at her.

"Fuck you, punta."

"What good is that gonna do you, huh?" A strong hum of Graves' helicopter could be heard as it was preparing to land on the roof of the mansion while Alejandro and Soap finished off the remaining cartel members.

With another brief struggle, Kiera was able to contain Valeria and escort her - forcefully escort her - towards the beam of Graves' spotlight, knocking her behind her knees to force her to surrender.

"On your knees!" Graves warned, watching her attempt to stand up again.

"I kneel for no one, motherfucker!" She shouted.

"A bullet will make you kneel," Graves replied, watching her stay on her knees. "Atta girl."

"Keep the target secure, I'll cover." Alejandro stated, nodding at Kiera as if he were asking if she was okay with his eyes. He knew the women were fighting like dogs and by the looks of them, aside from the obvious, it was hard to tell who was winning. Both women had red faces, blood coming from their lips, and messy hair.

"El Sin Nombre." Soap scoffed, forcing Valeria to her feet.

"My name is Valeria." She spat.

"Hiding in plain sight."

"Hiding?" She scoffed. "I'm everywhere, soldier."

Graves stepped down from the helicopter, smirking, "That's good. So are we. Let's go."

She was forced into the helicopter, looking back over her shoulder at Alejandro, the two sharing an immense gaze with the other. "Hermano, what's up?" Soap asked him, nudging his shoulder.

"Valeria, I know her!" He replied, leaving Soap to host a confused glance at what Alejandro had just said.

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 spoilers #simon riley cod #modernwarfare2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #callofduty #call of duty #simon riley x og female #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghostcod #ghost riley

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notchainedtotrauma · 11 months

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From My Patreon: My Favorite Bits Of Fiction I Wrote As Emotional Responses to Songs

0:00-0:27: Rushed silhouettes, floating buildings, she was heaving and panting through the streets, the screeches and profanities watery, damp against her head, intent on running. She had established a rhythm she could lock herself in and yet always about to miss a beat, slow down and collapse. The backstory was both arid and sinister. Still, in her mind, she remembered the blood soiled bed like muted faces as silent witnesses, fingers sticky with blackberry jam, her body burrowed into her. Bits and pieces doused with that summoning song, the continuous soundtrack of something she couldn't hold together yet.

I tightened against the slipperiness of the wheel, waiting for May to say something, at long last. It wasn't their lithe body, slumped against the back seat, the unremarkable outfit, a mundane stud uniform, but the hushed collection of glares, their knuckles tense inside their lap. We weren't quite sure of each other, as long as we'd worked out our siblinghood together, the slurry of kisses, the gut bursting laughter, the unceremonious nonchalance. And still, a crevice. And maybe we left each other, in some ways. The passenger side unceasingly wounded; eyes shrunk and blinking, bleached with anguish, her pleats an act of self admonishment. I could sense the belt slash into her chest and her head lolling from side to side. I took her to sever her trailing rope of confessions. They trumpled on her for so long and with such horror that she was here and there, a mind airless in poisonous water. I sped up, because there was no one, and nowhere, and I wanted her through the window, eyes wide open, even.

I had hovered above the sinister mapping of the hospital, looking for a reward yet to be named, stung with the viscous trickle of hand sanitizer, and how did I end up here, and why did I remain. I could craft the series of flashing images; the hard metal chair, the glassy borders, and the cop, or the detective, or whatever, reaching down my throat for the scene of the crime. The hospital had been closed for a while. I wanted to remain there forever. I wanted to let sickness carry me even as I was holding sickness at arm's length.

3:48-3:49: I didn’t ponder on violence often; I dutifully ripped, smashed, folded, clawed, worked away at thick flesh, waiting for the blood to spill, for a crease through the face or bruised arms. Every day, I labored on the push and pull of foreign bodies, of interlaced voices, my hands woven through their armpits, their eyes blinking, the mutilated geometry of their noses. And yet, ultimately, always this green fog, a film of bitterness in the mouth. He had barely glimpsed at me the first time, muttered “There”. I needed to leave; too much was happening, the unsettling sway of fractured hips, too much dried blood, something liquid and acrid coming up my throat. I had done the last of it.

He wasn’t there. She wasn’t there either, crouched on the still damp couch, her eyes enormous and sharp. The screen before her, with its glut of movement and sound, people sizzling everywhere, and her not following the thread, having lost the story halfway through the needle rattling her heart. She dashed out; she wanted to know midnight. She wasn’t dressed for any occasion; tattered sweatpants, a large cotton shirt. She trailed her hand across the bar, her nonchalant walk, hoping the moment would get caught in an endless loop.

The bacon and the plate beneath, looking at it, she was exhausted. She ignored what to make of all of this. She had been starved, and suddenly not. Two hours of damp showering, not even a trickle, she yearned for the water bandaging her skin. What was she to do with that bacon, growing cold, the bars of greasy meat, dripping on all that white ? It was sinister, not to know what to do about food. Every morning, she dropped a pack of instant popcorn in the microwave with weary indifference, poured the syrup. Her life seemed, to her, regulated by the consistent reality of food. Or aimless sex. Everyday, there was the bed, reluctantly open, her wet thighs, her eyes, enormous, her ordinary orgasms.

#my brain is writing #vibrating sonorities

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johnnytorresprowres · 1 year

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The Cooldown 1: Pro Wrestling GRIND “Stiff Upper Lip″ - 3/24/2023

1: “Iron” Rip Byson (8-3-1) vs. Joseph “A-Game” Alexander (2-4) At the beginning of the contest, Derek Neal pulled up a chair in the GRIND entryway to watch the proceedings. Rip Byson had a difficult time with the shot speed of A-Game at the beginning but was able to weather the storm of the Pretty Boy Shooter, return fire with bombs of his own, and was one lariat away from victory. But Derek Neal caused a sudden distraction and A-Game was able to snatch the prawn hold for the upset. This would not be the last we’d hear from either Rip or Derek during the event. Joseph Alexander d. Rip Byson (7:41) Now: A-Game: 3-4, Rip: 8-4-1 Up Next for Rip: Derek Neal in a Strap Match at Masters of Reality on 4/28 in Easthampton, MA 5 Prospects for A-Game: Andy Brown (2-2), Myung-Jae Lee (2-1), Alec Price (2-3), ZPB (1-2), Mike Skyros (3-3) (rematch from Doctor Doctor). ___ 2: “King of Chaos” Logan Black (6-3) vs. ZPB (0-2) In a battle of refined lariat practitioners and Western Mass favorites, neither veteran warrior wasted any time letting their hands go and it was only a matter of time before someone’s armor would crack. But as both Logan and ZPB neared complete exhaustion, it was not a lariat but instead a well-time counter to Logan’s Life-Altering Lariat that enabled ZPB to stack the KoC’s shoulders to the canvas and notch his first win in GRIND. ZPB d. Logan Black (8:13) Now: ZPB: 1-2, Logan: 6-4 5 Prospects for ZPB: Channing Thomas (1-4), Gary Jay (1-2), Andy Brown (2-2), O’Shay Edwards (2-3), Manders (2-2) 5 Prospects for Logan: Ryan Mooney (6-4), Delmi Exo (6-3), Andy Brown (2-2), Perry Von Vicious (7-7) (rematch from Electric Crown), Joseph Alexander (3-4) (rematch from Antisocial) ___ 3: “God Queen” Delmi Exo (6-2) vs. “International Pop Sensation” B3CCA (0-1) A match featuring this much familiarity was destined to come down to one defining strike that landed true. As they have in every bout throughout their history, they both brought their best bombs. But it came down to a dialed-in superkick from B3CCA that floored the Emerald Matriarch, and the Pop Sensation found home with the 450 Splash to take home her first GRIND victory. B3CCA d. Delmi Exo (7:51) Now: B3CCA: 1-1, Delmi: 6-3 5 Prospects for B3CCA: Myung-Jae Lee (2-1), Trish Adora (0-1), Jaden Newman (1-0), BEEF (1-1), ZPB (1-2) 5 Prospects for Delmi: Ryan Mooney (6-4), Logan Black (6-4), Perry Von Vicious (7-7), Mike Skyros (3-3), Joseph Alexander (3-4) ___ 4: “The Human Monster Truck” Perry Von Vicious (7-6) vs. “King’s Road Slayer” Derek Neal (0-0-1) Fans of agile heavyweights were right at home. Derek Neal and Perry Von Vicious tested each other’s mettle in every facet of pro wrestling, from grappling to striking to occasionally taking flight! It came down to who would land their best shot first, and Derek Neal was able to connect with his patented Fisherman’s Buster to notch his first W in GRIND. Neal called out Rip Byson post-match, Ripper happily obliged, chaos ensued, and a Strap Match is on the books for 4/28! Derek Neal d. Perry Von Vicious (10:03) Now: Derek: 1-0-1, PVV: 7-7 Up Next for Derek: Rip Byson in a Strap Match at Masters of Reality on 4/28 5 Prospects for PVV: Logan Black (6-4) (rematch from Electric Crown), Ryan Mooney (6-4), Manders (2-2), Delmi Exo (6-3), Mike Skyros (3-3) ___ 5: “Uptown” Andy Brown (1-2) d. “Locksmith” Brandon Williams (0-1) The heavy-handed Andy Brown and mat specialist Brandon Williams brought the thunder in our return from intermission. After a feeling out process, Williams recognized the danger of the sure feet of the Thiccc Daddy and started fighting for his trusty ankle lock throughout the contest. But an ill-timed shot was met with an intercepting knee strike followed by the Finish Him to make it two in a row for Andy Brown. Andy Brown d. Brandon Williams (8:10) Now: Andy: 2-2, Locksmith: 0-2 5 Prospects for Andy: Manders (2-2), Myung-Jae Lee (2-1), Mike Skyros (3-3), Alec Price (2-3), BEEF (1-1) 5 Prospects for Locksmith: Ryan Clancy (0-2), ZPB (1-2), Jac St. Jean (0-1), Angelo Carter (0-1), Nolo Kitano (0-2) ___ 6: “Moonlight Son” Mike Skyros (2-3) vs. “Fancy” Ryan Clancy (0-1) Two refined mat technicians with no shortage of familiarity locked horns in a very evenly matched bout. Clancy was able to keep Skyros off balance with his misdirection with manuevers such as criss-crossing into the crossbody and the rolling single leg crab. But it was misdirection and split-second timing that brought Skyros the victory as he was able to ricochet out of a Clancy kickout right into Skyfall. Skyros has now bounced back from an 0-3 record to even the ship at 3-3. Mike Skyros d. Ryan Clancy (11:40) Now: Skyros: 3-3, Clancy: 0-2 5 Prospects for Skyros: Andy Brown (2-2), Ryan Mooney (6-4), Alec Price (2-3), Myung-Jae Lee (2-1), Joseph Alexander (3-4) (rematch from Doctor Doctor), 5 Prospects for Clancy: Brandon Williams (0-2), Angelo Carter (0-1), Jac St. Jean (0-1), Covey Christ (0-1), Gary Jay (1-2) ___ 7: I QUIT MATCH: “Murder Hornet” Travis Huckabee (6-3) vs. “Top Shelf” Troy Nelson (1-0) An I Quit match a year in the making. Personal issues from years past had risen to the surface and GRIND broadcaster Top Shelf Troy Nelson returned to the ring to settle the score. Top Shelf appeared to be in classic form, even landing his patented Johnny Cage split punch. But Huckabee utilized his surroundings to great effect, including a spare turnbuckle, a steel chair, and a vicious irish whip into the steel corner post that opened up the back of Troy as a target for Travis. In the end, an unholy cocktail of the steel turnbuckle hook and contorting Top Shelf’s spine forced Troy to utter I Quit. Troy had some words post-match for Travis that may have sharpened the edge of the Murder Hornet, as he laid out Troy one last time with a headbutt. Travis Huckabee d. Troy Nelson (12:23) Now: Huckabee: 7-3, Top Shelf: 1-1 5 Prospects for Huckabee: Andy Brown (2-2), Manders (2-2), Joseph Alexander (3-4), Ryan Mooney (6-4) (rematch from Come And Get It), Myung-Jae Lee (2-1) (rematch from You Better Run) Up Next for Top Shelf: Most likely the commentary table with Alyssa & I. ___ 8: GRIND GRAND CHAMPIONSHIP: “Blue Thunder” Jay Freddie (11-1) (c) vs. “World Class” Channing Thomas (1-3) In our 4th defense of the GRIND Grand Championship, the mighty Jay Freddie locked horns with “World Class” Channing Thomas, flanked by the legendary Sidney Bakabella. Once any brass knuckles were removed from the contest, Channing brought his best to the defending champion, and nearly came away with the victory thanks to a pair of brass knuckles on the fist of Sidney. But our secondary referee Nate Speckman watching the monitor was there to notify acting ref Bill Thompson of the miscarriage of justice, and the main event was restarted. Freddie quickly removed Sidney and his hairpiece from the equation, and with hairpiece in tow, landed the Shining Wizard to successfully defend the Grand Championship for a 4th time. Jay Freddie d. Channing Thomas (22:53) Now: Freddie: 12-1, 4th defense, Channing: 1-4 5 Prospects for Channing: Gary Jay (1-2), ZPB (1-2), BEEF (1-1), O’Shay Edwards (2-3), Joseph Alexander (3-4) Top Contenders for Jay’s Next Defense: Anthony Henry and Mike Skyros have both won 3 straight singles matches. Manders, Myung-Jae Lee, and Andy Brown have won 2 straight singles matches. See you at Masters of Reality! - JT

#prowrestlinggrind westernmass westernma prowrestling puroresu

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waitingforwinterwinds · 1 year

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A Clash of Kings - 36 TYRION VIII (pages 477-484)

The Small Council + Cersei react to the news of Renly's death and plot to snatch Loras and Co for their team via some Margaery/Joffrey shipping.

Varys stood over the brazier, warming his soft hands. "It would appear Renly was murdered most fearfully in the very midst of his army. His throat was opened from ear to ear by a blade that passed through steel and bone as if they were soft cheese."

See? Even Varys knows that's weird. Evidence says: Brienne could not have done it! But is there still a warrant out for her arrest?

"- A fifth of Renly's knights departed with Ser Loras rather than bend the knee to Stannis. It's said the Knight of Flowers went mad when he saw his king's body, and slew threeof Renly's guards in his wrath, among them Emmon Cuy and Robar Royce."

Mmmm, press F to doubt. Oh, I don't doubt Loras lost his shit, but (and I flipped back a few pages to double check) Emmon and Robar were fighting each other when Cat and Brienne made their escape, Robar for Team Brienne, and Emmon for team "I want Vengeance, not Justice, I don't care a bout Evidence or Innocence." Of he did kill them it wasn't all under his own strength, I'm guessing at least one of the three he slew was already dead or at least well on their way.

RIP Robar Royce.

Littlefinger agreed. "The Stark girl brings Joffrey nothing but her body, sweet as it may be. -"

Suddenly, the chair beneath Littlefinger burbled and warped, melting and shifting like something made of half melted taffy rather than wood. The mass of it expanded like a bulb of glass being blown to a vase and enveloped his body in a single alarming crunch. As the rest of the rooms occupants looked on, the Mimic burped, and resettled into the form of a pretty wooden chest.

Days since Littlefinger was creepy about young girls: 0

... You know, once this group agrees on a direction, they're pretty quick about working out details.

"Tyrion, I know we do not always agree on policy, but it seems to me that I was wrong about you. You are not so big a fool as I imagined. In truth, I realize now that you have been a great help. For that I thank you. You must forgive me if I have spoken to you harshly in the past." "Must I?" He gave her a shrug, a smile. "Sweet sister, you have said nothing that requires forgiveness." "Today, you mean?" They both laughed... and Cersei leaned over and planted a quick, soft kiss on his brow.

Awwww, sibling love~ ... Hey Admiral Ackbar, can you come here a sec?

"It was... Unanticipated." Cersei had been behaving queer of late. Tyrion found it very unsettling. ... "No, the woman is hatching something. Best find out what it is, Bronn. You know I hate surprises."

"IT'S A TRAP!"

#a clash of kings #a song of ice and fire #tyrion lannister #a chapter a day reading #acok #asoiaf

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grex-statera · 10 months

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Chapter 1: A Letter - Winter, Year 0

Elliot spent a good chunk of their childhood in Grandpa's farm over at Pelican Town but can't really remember anyone on there, if they do remember her. Every year at Fall, dad would go out into the old farm to keep watch over it "lest there be spirits camping in there, amirite?". But this year it's different:

Dad: Hey champ! Say, why don't you go check up on the farm this year?

Elliot: Mmmm and how exactly do I do that??

Dad: Oh yknow, just check the house if it's still intact. Pull some weeds; get rid of debris...Maybe a attend a meeting or two..

Elliot: Meeting??? In the countryside? Haha that's quite an imagery, dad.

Elliot's always busy nowadays especially with her promotion as a Project Officer in her corporate job. Schedules become more and more hectic. Overtime is more frequent and longer than it was. Hell, she even gets called in to work during the weekends. Ultimately, dad is very worried about her well-being but there's also another thing he worries about - the farm. Sure, they could survive without it; Elliot has more than enough money saved to even buy her own house at this point and Dad's been retired for quite some time now, with a pension, of course. But money isn't the reason why the old farm's being kept around.

Elliot focuses back on her report due next week and dad has no choice but to back down with the topic for a bit or else his daughter might get annoyed and dismiss the topic entirely. The doorbell rings and dad goes out to get the door. He opens it but sees noone, except for a neat-looking dark blue envelope on the doormat. One look and dad already knows what it's about. Dad goes back to the dining table where Elliot has her laptop set up.

Dad: Hey Ells... it's for you.

Elliot's gaze turns to dad then to the pretty-looking envelope in his hand.

Elliot: Ooooh that's such a fancy envelope! Who's it from??

Dad gives her the envelope and Elliot holds it and examines it closely. It's a very pretty thing - matte paper that's very satisfying to touch. Theres nothing written on it except on the middle of one side, in very neat handwriting, it said: To Elliot

Elliot carefully opens the envelope, trying not to rip any of it. Inside was a small card that read:

You are cordially invited to The Grex Statera, to be held this coming Autumn, on the night of Spirit's Eve.

Your return to the roost will be highly anticipated. Do not fail to attend.

- M. Rasmodius

An undescribable fear washed over Elliot.

Elliot: Hey, uh. This is...a really weird letter, dad.

Elliot looks at dad with a puzzled look but dad is just looking back at her, dejectedly.

Elliot: Hello?? What is this about??

Dad: I'm sorry I kept it from you for so long. I knew I should've talked to you about it when you were 16, just like your grandpa did to me. Ahhh, but your mother-

Elliot: What? What's that have to do with this?? Just tell me now, then.

Dad was silent for a bit, trying to find the words.

Dad: We have magic in our bloodline, sweetie.

Elliot just sat there with an exasperated look.

Elliot: What?

Dad: Yes, you heard that right. We have magic in our bloodline. Just like some families out there. Do you remember your friend, Rose?

Elliot: Oh. Woozy Rosie?

Dad: *chuckle* Yep, Woozy Rosie. They had to move to a forest-dense area since they're a family of half-vampires and they needed the shade.

Dad casually drops this information as if it's a part of normal life, not even showing an ounce of his mischievous side. That's when Elliot knew that he wasn't kidding about this.

Elliot: *leans back into the chair, her shoulders slumping* Man, what the hell.......So what are we then?

Dad: Oh, don't worry dear, we're not another species. We're just very well-attuned to nature.

Elliot, confused: What? That's it?

Dad: Yeah. Now you know why we keep getting bothered by animals. It's because I can talk to them.

This revelation shocked Elliot to her core. As if something clicked in her brain. All of those cats and birds in the parks that they visited, the deer, the random lizards and insects that show up from nowhere. The dog, now affectionately looking at dad.

Elliot: Wait so you mean...I can talk to them too????

Dad: Well, not right now as you are since you have forgotten to attune yourself with nature.

Elliot: Excuse me?? What does THAT mean??

Dad: Dear, you've been working yourself to the bone in a concrete jungle. You can't even keep a plant alive. How do you expect that to nurture your magical gift?

Alright, that kinda stung. Elliot was only working for his and his father's sakes. She wants him to retire into comfort, not to spend his retirement days thinking about her well-being, still. She didn't bring this up since it's quite hard to tell parents that you care about them. Maybe this is not a universal experience.

Elliot, still holding the letter: So.....what do we do now?

Dad: I'm going to teach you some farming basics and you're going to move to Pelican Town to watch over the farm.

Elliot: Wait, what? The thingy here won't be until Fall, next year! Why do I have to move to Pelican Town????

Dad: Because you need to revive the farm, honey.

Elliot: But you only stay there for like, a week max in Fall?? How come I need to move there??

Dad, starting to get frustrated: I'm sorry dear, but you're the next heir to the farm, not me. It skips a generation. I'm only a caretaker, in preparation for you.

About 50 thoughts swirled in Elliot's head: What about my job? What about dad? Who takes care of him? How am I going to survive out there? Can I really do this? Am I really just going to drop everything I have right now for something this stupid? Elliot's paranoia was interrupted by dad:

Dad: I know what you're thinking, honey. I'll be fine on my own. And you'll be fine on your own over there. The citizens and your uncle-gramps will take care of you.

Elliot: My what now?

Dad: *chuckle* Grandpa's friends. They will show you the ropes. Y'know, when I first took over the caretaking business for the farm, I didn't know anything either. It was them who helped me out. It's a really nice community out there - they really feel like one big family. Who knows, maybe you'll even find a significant other there?

Elliot, annoyed: Alright, dad.

Dad: *chuckle* Just kidding, dear. Right, since it's quite dead outside how about I teach you about plant care basics in the garage?

Elliot and dad spent a lot of time together that Winter going through everything that could prepare Elliot for what's to come - for the farming aspect, of course. Try as he might, Dad's not really the best person to go to with regards to the magic stuff. The valley has a wizard for that, of course! Maybe even a few.

#stardew valley #stardew au #stardew fanfic

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broodybatboy · 2 years

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⚔️ The Valkyries: Headcanons

@gwynweek2022 Day 4: The Valkyries

"Don't you know? You can never beat us." - Blossom, Powerpuff Girls

Emerie: a tablespoon of calm, a pound of resilience, a pinch of spice, and an ounce of boss 💯

Nesta: a cup of rage, a dash of intimidation, and a heaping tablespoon of love topped with a crown 👑

Gwyn: buckets of joy, a pinch of aggression, a squeeze of intellect and whole sticks of buttery sunshine ☀️

These are the ingredients chosen to make the perfect girls but the Mother accidentally added an extra ingredient to the concoction: Friendship

Thus, the Valkyries were born.

The gals faces while reading smutty books:

Nesta: Smirking, raising an eyebrow, bookmarks pages for Cass...

Gwyn: Squealing, gasping, wide-eyed, yelling at characters

Emerie: Poker face, "hmm", snickers, re-reads the 🔥🌶

Gwyn is the silly and goofy one. She's also the kind one who gives the lil pep talks and makes them believe in themselves

Emerie is the straightforward, no-nonsense one that tells them when they're being stupid. But also the one to have a cup of tea or a book ready at any moment's notice

Nesta is protective and will scare the shit out of anyone who hurts her babies. But will also hold their hair back while they puke and give them a shoulder to cry on

How many Valkyries does it take to fix a lightbulb?

(1) Nesta to break it in a rage and then, hide it.

(2) Emerie holding the ladder while Nesta climbs on to change it.

(0) Gwyn points out that Az has wings & would fix it if she asked.

Once the friends-to-lovers become obvious Emerie and Nesta decide to turn the tables on Azriel. They tie him up to a chair in a dark cellar and begin to interrogate him

Emerie: "What are your intentions with our Gwyn?!?"

Nesta: *shining a bright light in his face* "DO YOU LOVE HER?!"

Emerie: "All right shadow boi, since you're so good with those hands, write a list about all the reasons she's perfect."

Nesta: "Okay, dumb bat. I'm gonna give you a scenario: Gwyn is at a large party. She's a little anxious, she's hungry, and there's a small rip in her dress. What do you fix first?"

Azriel: "Um I wo-"

Emerie: "Trick question. YOU WOULDN'T HAVE LET ANY OF THESE THINGS HAPPEN in the first place."

Emerie and Gwyn having secret tea time with Cassian bc he's starting to enjoy smutty books but he will literally never hear the end of it if Nesta or Azriel ever find out.

The gals teasing and encouraging Cassian about all the ways he gets Nesta all hot and bothered. The trio just gushing about how beautiful Nesta is.

Meanwhile, in the other room...

Azriel: "The shadows say they've moved on to discussing The Lord who Loathed Me."

Nesta, smirking: "Gwyn wants to go to the symphony. Emerie's gonna bail at the last minute so you can take her. Pass the cookies."

Azriel, chuckles: "Cassian is comparing himself to Lord Antoine. They particularly enjoyed the heated argument in the study. Hmm...what should I wear?"

Nesta, laughing: "He is the bane of my existence. The silk dress shirt, Gwyn always freaks out about your biceps."

Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta having stylish fashion shows in their closets and giving each other makeovers.

Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta watching romantic comedies and quoting them all the time. Their favorites

Emerie: The Notebook

Gwyn: When Harry Met Sally

Nesta: 10 Things I Hate About You

Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta singing Shania Twain’s Man! I Feel Like a Woman!

Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta getting absolutely plastered drunk in Velaris and dancing their butts off in the most joyous way possible

Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta going on missions together and being so in sync

Like Gwyn is scouting the perimeter and covering blind spots, Nesta would take the lead and subdue the enemy, Emerie would come from behind and finish him off

The trio commemorates the anniversary of the Blood Rite. They go to Emerie's house in Illyria. This time, there's no fear, there's no risk of danger, this time they're safe and ready to defend themselves.

They sit around the table sipping wine and eating a chocolate cake with "Valkyries" written in icing until they are too full of sugar and love for each other.

The next day they go to the coast. They walk along the shoreline and climb the top of a seacliff. They share a laugh, they share a cry, and they share the stories of all they have overcome. The three of them wrap their arms around each. They sit for a long while watching the waves crash against the rock.

"Nothing can break us."

#tag yourself which valkyrie are you?#literally I am gwyn whenever I read #if I was Az I would be terrified in that interogration room #Also Az and Nesta eavesdropping makes me so happy #gwynweek2022 #gwyneth berdara #gwyn berdara #gwyn acotar #gwyn acosf #valkyries #gwynriel #nesta archeron #emerie acotar #emerie acosf #nesta acosf #acosf #nesta

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pashminalamb · 2 years

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ℝ𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕕 ℝ𝕠𝕞𝕖 (𝟙/𝟡)

♱ Pairings : Itoshi Rin x fem! reader (Itoshi rin is 23)

♱ Genre : Angst, smut, fluff, slow burn.

♱ Synopsis : A struggling author is met with an offer to write the biography of an arrogant football player. Through the months she would spend with her employer, would (Y/N) finally learn to let go of the past and learn to love or would she be broken by none other than the arrogant footballer she fell for?

♱ Word count : 2.4k words. Going ahead, some of the parts may become longer.

♱ Warnings (for the series) : Minors dni, 18+ content.

♱ Warnings for part 1 : Mentions of death of a closed one from (Y/N)'s side, mentions of coping with it, light mentions of mental well being.

♱ Tags for this series will be open from part 2 as this is the first time I'm writing for bllk.

♱ Do not copy, repost, recreate, translate or edit my works. Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!! Thank you for reading. 0^^0

♱ Status : Sleepily edited.

Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Neither did it fall in one, taking a painstakingly slow two and half centuries to be ripped apart.

Standing among a sea of bodies close to each other, ready to go to work was not one of your plans on an early Monday morning. There were Monday morning blues… and it could only get worse with the need to catch a train; nonetheless towards the metropolitan city of Tokyo.

“Meet me in the Capitol hotel, Tokyo in the morning at 10:30. There is something we need to discuss. It is important that you be there. The client demands it.”

- Notification from Yamamoto Misaki, 6 hours ago.

Doing research on the hotel the previous night, you realized this wasn’t an ordinary hotel. It was both important for its pristine location as well as the ambience; with the latter catching more attention. Giving into your curiosity, you let yourself be whisked away to sleep only to be woken up with a blaring alarm and the feeling of being overwhelmed at the thought of the mysterious opportunity of the day ahead of you.

You could feel the crisp morning air of the most metropolitan city in the world, as you let yourself stretch on the train station platform. Opening the map on your phone, you began to walk towards the said building which would seal your fate.

Upon arriving at the reception you gently whispered the name of your writing agent before the expressions of the receptions changed to that of seriousness. With a gentle hand, the man guided towards a private room where you were ushered in, only to have the door closed behind you. Looking around the room, you noticed three men in business suits, sitting across the table with their hands crossed before with one figure’s back turned towards the door from where you stood which looked like Misaki’s.

“Welcome, Miss (Y/N). We have been expecting you.” the man in the middle said as he extended his hand towards the empty seat in front of him. The room was filled with silence as you swallowed the build of spit that was beginning to collect at the back of your tongue. Taking slow and steady steps, you walked in a rhythm towards the seated men, the room echoing with the sound of the clacking of your shoes against the polished marble with a brief pause of a chair being dragged. Setting your satchel in your lap, you placed yourself on the empty seat, eyes trained on the men in suit before you; as the atmosphere of seriousness was quick to settle on the table. Shooting a quick look to Misaki who was sitting beside you, shot a grave look with her dark eyes with a smidgen of seriousness which you were accustomed to before meeting interviewers, press or fans.

“I am Kanazawa Takeru, secretary of the blue lock foundation.” he said, reaching his digits out for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you.” you said taking his hand into yours you gave a slight bow with a slight bend before retracting it back. “This is Chris Smith, our lawyer and Miyaki Hirose, the editor of the Kunomiya press.” he continued with a wave of his hand towards the blonde yet stuck up looking lawyer beside him as well as the beady eyed man who gave a gentle bow in your direction. “Would you care for some tea?” Takeru asked with a wave of his hand towards the porcelain set before you. “No thank you.” you humbly declined.

“Well then, getting down to business..” Takeru said, joining his hands before him, sliding his glasses up his nose, “we have an offer for you.” he further added. With a shift in position, you leaned forward, balancing both arms on your thighs, a silent signal for him to continue.

“We’re offering you to write a book.” he said in utmost seriousness, eyes staring into yours through his glasses. “This won’t be an ordinary story like that of romance, thriller or what you usually write. To be more specific, we are asking you to write a biography on one of the greatest football players in Japan.” You could feel a wave of darkness wash over you at the mention of the most appreciated and passionate game this planet had to behold.

“Who is the player we are working with?” Misaki asked.

“Before I disclose any of those details, I need you and your writing agent to sign these non disclosure agreements.” Takeru said in a grave tone, pushing the sheet of papers towards the both of you that read the warning red initials of “Confidential.” With an approving nod from Misaki, scribbles of pen meeting paper could be heard before sliding the paper back to their owner.

“The football player you will be working with is Itoshi Rin san; who is here in the Garden suite of the building.” Takeru said, sliding a large stack of paper with terms and conditions written in the front with red ink. “Over a course of interviews and sessions, we are asking you to complete the book in a course of seven months from the moment you sign the contract. The deal settles at $60,000 but we are open to discussing the negotiation in price according to your services.” Takeru ended with the cross of his arms over his laxed knee.

With a silent sigh, you relaxed against the backrest of your chair, letting your chin rest on your knuckles. “Kanazawa san, with all due respect you might have picked the wrong person to write this biography. Looking at my profile, I’m sure you must have been impressed with my degree in literature from Tohuku University, but what you’re asking for is based more on a global level. I am an amateur author, who hasn’t even received the best feedback let alone become famous for my writings. And the money you are offering is fit for a professional. Not someone like me.” you replied.

“Kanazawa san, may I have a word with (Y/N) san before we make a decision.” Misaki was quick to interrupt before kanazawa san could speak. “We have limited time, Yamamoto san. Please don’t keep us waiting for too long.The terms are written in the documents. If you have any questions let me know. ” Kanazawa san said, pushing his chair back with the two other men whilst sliding a business card over the table, before turning towards the door to exit, leaving the two of you in the room.

“(Y/N). Do you not understand that this is a golden opportunity for us?” Misaki said, clenching her fingers in her lap as she turned to face you with determined yet worried eyes.

“You should know better than anyone, Misa.” you said in a tired manner.

It had been ten months since you had barely touched a page. The death of your father led you to ruin, putting a stop to your dreams. You were thrown into a further despair as you lost your home, being forced to move into an alien studio apartment with none other than your thoughts to keep you company; managing to survive on your father’s life insurance money for basic needs. Football… was the last thing you wished to deal with, knowing that it had been very close to your old man’s heart.

‘What is an author when they lose their sole inspiration to write?’.

“I know the loss of your father hasn’t been easy (Y/N). But… don’t you think we can turn things around if we make this pitch?” Misaki asked in a gentle tone, taking your hands into hers. “Once you write this, it can mean a new start.” she encouraged you with a watery smile.

“And what if I do write it? What will happen if it doesn’t work out.” you countered.

“It will.” a foreign voice interrupted your conversation with a baritone.

Heads snapping to the perpetrator, you were met with the sight of a man who looked similar to a model. “Itoshi san!” Takeru called out, bursting through the doors. Eyes shifting from the huffing and puffing man in the suit, your eyes scanned the stranger. Standing at six feet and four inches was none other than the footballer himself, dressed in a clad cream turtleneck with brown pants. Batting his eyelashes in disapproval, he approached until he was a good two feet away from you. “Can you give us some time alone to discuss this?” Rin said in a cold tone, looking towards Misaki, gaze shifting from her to the other three men who were in the room. With a meek nod, Misaki left the room with the three men behind her.

“I am hiring you to write $60,000 worth of pages. Is that not good enough for you or are you testing my money to see if it’s lukewarm?” Rin asked in an arrogant tone.

You could feel your tongue fumble over words as the sentence left Rin’s mouth. Never would you have expected a gentleman like man to appear to be so crass, let alone a footballer.

“Itoshi san, with all due respect, first, it is my writing that you seek. Not the other way around. I was willing to walk away from a deal that is worth $60,000. For a common person like me, that is a quite a hefty amount of money. What gave you the idea that I was negotiating a price tag? Second, I am an amateur author. In my opinion, it is better to hand the job to a professional or an internationally recognized author. Not a person who has barely made a name for herself let alone has minimal experience in writing. With what I have said, I shall take your leave.” you said with a slight bow, grabbing your satchel and turning away from him.

“Ball handled by feet that was soon turned into a religion; known to be the most beautiful game on earth.”

Hearing those familiar words, your fast pace came to a steady halt. You felt your shoulders become stiff, hands beginning to shake as you were frozen to the tile, willing with your might for your feet to move.

“Under the fair sun.”

You felt your skin crawl at the mention of your book. Tilting your head to a slow angle you watched as Rin approached behind you from the corner of your eye. Coming to a stop behind you, “It was your book, wasn't it.” he stated rather than questioning. With a shaky sigh, you let your shoulders fall loose, eyes fixed on the marbled floor that reflected back your image. “It sure didn’t fly off the shelves, but it certainly was something to behold.” he said in a cold, harsh tone, circling around you like a predator trapping its prey.

Swallowing at the sight of a bigger pair of feet coming into your field of vision, you looked up, daring to meet the cold eyes of the tall football player.

At that moment you could only think of two words; arrogant and prideful. A combination that could either lead to the ruin or success of a player. His unwavering eyes left no room of doubt, making sure you knew where your place was. Whilst you were confined to a room, struggling to write, he had been struggling to be the best, earning and maintaining his right to play on the field amongst the best of players the world had to see and offer.

‘Despite that, it seems his ego is out of bounds.’ Calculating your actions, you were perplexed on how to go about the situation at hand. Either you would end this confrontation by wounding his ego, or you would only fuel it, causing him to pursue you once more.

“Ego is a common trait amongst everyone Itoshi san, it is all a matter of showing it or not. I might be a mediocre author, but it surely doesn’t mean my ego can’t rival yours. A no is a no.” you said with finality in your tone, eyes meeting his teal orbs to show you weren’t afraid.

‘Be strong (Y/N). You mustn’t be afraid of anything, even a person of a higher status before you, holding a knife to your throat.’

Stepping aside, you briskly walked past his figure, making your way towards the door of the room.

“$75,000.” he announced.

Taking a pause, you tried to process your thoughts letting out a confused “huh?”.

“Not good enough? $80,000 it is then.” Rin announced once more with his back turned towards you. Blinking in confusion, you narrowed your eyes at the thought of him trying to buy you off with money. Letting go of the door handle in frustration, you turned to face him. “Why are you so adamant for me to write your book? If you can throw your money at me; who is refusing to write your biography, I am sure you can offer the original amount somewhere else and not be rejected.” you replied brusquely.

“We do have other authors. Would you rather me go to them when I’m willing to increase the price for what you could type on paper? Nonetheless, I am doing most of the work since all I am doing is being interviewed. You have the upper hand of just typing words out of simply what I am saying and make an easy amount of money with it. Seems foolish to let such easy bills slip out of your bare hands.” Rin said with a shrug, turning to lift the terms of agreement papers.

Tempted at the thought of accepting the offer, you felt yourself being dragged through a state of turmoil between rationality and being influenced by the words of the man that demanded you to write against your will. Would you truly give up a golden opportunity like this one only to be snatched away by another and reach the mountain summit which you wished to reach.

‘My ego won’t allow it.’

Would you truly be willing to live with the agony of knowing that you could have done a better job at writing the same piece that was once offered to you?

‘My pride wouldn’t allow it.’

“Alright.” you said.

“Hm?” Rin responded mindlessly, eyes turning in your direction.

“Alright.” you repeated, holding your head high. “I will write your book with the final price being $80,000, declared by none other than the subject of the book himself.”

With a wry smile, Rin slammed the stack of papers on the table. “Excellent. My lawyer will have the price for your writing officially negotiated. Hope you are ready to become a stepping stone for both of us, (Y/L/N) san.” Rin said briefly, turning to open the doors once more, revealing a distressed Takeru and a shocked Misaki.

Even though Rome was ruined, the phrase of it not being built in a day lived to tell the tale for centuries.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #Itoshi rin x fem! reader #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x fem! reader #bllk rin #bllk imagines #blue lock #blue lock x you #bllk rin itoshi #bllk itoshi rin #bllk fic #itoshi rin imagine #rin itoshi imagine

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

The Talk - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader // ft. Bakugou’s daughter

Warnings: Crack, Fluff, Cursing, Sexual Mentions

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Summary: Katsumi has recently turned 8 and Bakugou thinks it’s time for her to receive the talk and tries to get Y/N to give it to her, however Bakugou finds himself doing the deed instead.

“Katsuki! Go!”

“No I just-“

“You have to-“

“But I don’t-“

“AH AH AH JUST GO!”

“nooOOO!!”

Bakugou and Y/N both spoke over each other saying those things until eventually Y/N pushed Bakugou into the room and barricaded the door to keep him inside. On the inside, Bakugou slammed his fist against the door demanding to be released.

“Y/N Bakugou! Open this door right now!” He screamed from the other side.

“Sure thing dAD,” she said dramatically, “after you do what you gotta do!”

“It’s DAD-DY TO YOU!” He screamed again. “LET ME OUT!”

“Suki! This was your idea!” You explained from the outside.

“Yeah but we’re a team! I thought we would be doing this together!” He said.

“Yeah well I didn’t wanna do it and since you insisted so bad that this just had to happen, you can do the deed!” You argued from the other side of the door.

“Y/N! You can’t keep me in here with that..that DEMON!” He screamed.

“Daddy?�� Bakugou flinched as he quickly turned around with his back pressed against the door. He shook in fear as his smile trembled and his eye twitched as he looked at that thing on the floor. It was sitting in the chair holding a cup of hibiscuses tea while it wore a pink boa and tiara. It had an orange boa ready to go with an extra tiara on the other seat for the tea party that was currently happening in the girly princess styled bedroom.

“Yes princess?” He said to his eight year old daughter as she looked at him with a waiting stare. And yes we referred to her as ‘it’ before.

“You said you would join me for my tea party to give me the talk about something. What was it?” Katsumi said. Bakugou gulped in fear as he watched his daughter gesture to the empty seat. Bakugou slowly walked to the tiny chair and sat as his knees scrunched up to his chest. He cleared his throat as he put on the boa and tiara and looked around to see he was seated next to Mr. HoneyBear and Madam Unicorn. Katsumi poured him a cup of tea and he picked up the tiny ceramic, that was much too small for his large hands, until he heard his daughter clear her throat.

“Ehem,” she said. Bakugou stared and watched as she picked up her cup and stuck out her pinkie. His mouth formed an ‘o’ as he mimicked her actions and carefully took a sip. He placed the cup down as he placed his hands on his knees, making a small rhythm as he was nervous and didn’t know how to begin.

“Okay daddy! What did you wanna tell me?” She squealed. Bakugou looked around in nervousness. He didn’t even know how to begin the talk.

“Okay! Um...well. You see Katsumi..you are old enough to finally know where...umm...how...eh,” Bakugou stumbled over his words until Y/N poked her head in to help.

“Where babies come from,” she whispered and then shut the door again. Bakugou growled as he looked at the door.

“If you’re so good at this why don’t you come in here?!” He whispered yelled.

“Because you’re the one that wanted this to happen!” She whispered yelled back through the door.

“Coward!” Bakugou seethed. Y/N then opened the door again to give her two cents.

“Nice boa and tiara, PRinCeSS,” you teased. Bakugou threw one of the cookies on the plate at the door and it was going to hit you but you shut it before it could. Bakugou settled in his seat and tossed his boa to wrap around his neck and readjusted his tiara.

“Right Katsumi, it’s time for you to know where babies come from,” he explained to the eight year old. She stared at him with a raised brow as she sipped from her cup.

“You and Mommy already told me, remember? You guys said the storks bring down the babies!” She explained. Bakugou cringed at the memory of the time he almost slipped up and practically explained sex to his daughter when she was only 5. Luckily, Y/N saved his ass with the stork story.

“Right, but the storks just bring the babies..they don’t...create them,” he said.

“Oh! So then who creates them?” She innocently asked with the same doe eyes her mother had. Bakugou bit his lip in nervousness as he began to tremble again.

“Well you see...when two people..um, love each other..very....much....they Umm...at a certain time they’ll...” Katsumi began to get a little bored and yawned. Katsuki watched and just decided to rip the band-aid right off. He slammed his hands on his thighs as he spoke.

“You know what! Forget this! Katsumi! When a man loves a women, they’ll....” Bakugou trailed off as he realized exactly what he had to say. He stood up and put himself in the corner as he sat on the ground with his knees crunched up to his chest again.

“Daddy, just tell me! I’m getting bored and the tea is getting cold!” Katsumi whined. Bakugou sighed out as he returned to his seat.

“Katsumi, listen,” he exhaled before he began, “a man has this thing called a penis,” he cringed at his words, “and you know that a woman, like yourself, has a what?”

“A vagina. You and Mommy taught me the big girl words so that if something bad were to happen, I can properly explain and get help without confusing anyone. It’s part of my no-no square.” She said while casually messing with her toys.

“Right..and uh...your no-no square can only be touched by...uhm...your doctors with permission and..uh, in the far future, the one you love.” He explained.

“Like you and Mommy?” She asked.

“Uh..no..well..not really. Only in certain cases but you can trust that me and Mommy will never hurt you,” Bakugou said.

“I trust that! But what do you mean ‘love’ then?” Katsumi once again questioned.

“Well..love..as in like a boyfriend or a husband-“

“Or a prince?” Katsumi excitedly asked.

“....uh..sure?” Bakugou said, “but eventually..you and your...prince, OR PRINCESS OR ROYAL MAJESTY.. whatever you’re into, will eventually want to experience...something called..uh..sexual interco-“

*DING!*

“Whats that?” Bakugou asked as he pointed towards the timer.

“My brownies are ready!” Katsumi said and excitedly got up to get her desserts. Bakugou raised his brow in question as he didn’t realize his daughter could bake.

“Brownies?” He questioned.

“Mhm! I made them in my easy bake oven!” She said as she brought the tiny tray containing six mini brownies over to the table. “Try one!”

Bakugou looked at the tray and saw burnt pieces and he’s pretty sure he saw a bubble on one of the slimy brownies pop. He silently and subtly gagged but covered it up with a cough. He cleared his throat before he used a shaky hand to pick one up.

“And what’s the number we use to call in emergencies?” Bakugou asked.

“1-1-0,” Katsumi said.

“Good girl,” he said and took a small bite into the brownie. He chewed and bit into some hard, crunchy pieces but felt something else running down his throat. “Umm..Katsumi, Princess-“

“You like it? I tried really hard because I know you’re a great chef Daddy!” She happily explained. Bakugou couldn’t hate on his little girl’s brownies so he just had to ask a few questions.

“They’re Umm..delicious! A little burnt but it’s still very....very...good? But uh..what did you put in these?” He cautiously asked as he continued to chew.

“Brownie batter, duh, and sequence, rhinestones, and just a pinch of glitter!”

“HAH!” Y/N laughed from the other side of the door.

In the middle of Katsumi’s explanation, Bakugou swallowed the piece of brownie and began choking, he tried to get his cup of tea to wash it down but it was too tiny to do any good. Katsumi just watched in confusion as her father choked and sat down as she sipped her own cup of tea with a confused and almost sarcastic face. Bakugou lifted the tea pot and attempted to drink out of it but saw it was empty. He ran to his daughter’s door and tried to open it but Y/N still had it blocked. He blasted it open with his quirk and Katsumi just laughed at the scene with her hand covering her mouth and Y/N stood infront of the doorway in shock.

“Katsuki!” She yelled at her husband for breaking the door but he only ran down to the kitchen sink and turned on the faucet as he jugged down the flow of water. He finally stopped choking and after he finished his symphony of coughs, he flopped onto the couch.

Back with Y/N and Katsumi:

“Hang on love, just enjoy your tea and then wait here. Mommy will be right back.” Y/N said and then ran downstairs. She found her husband face down on the couch and laughed at him.

“Umm.. Katsuki..are you, pfft..okay?” You laughed out. Bakugou just poked his head up to glare at his wife and flopped his head back down on the couch.

“She can wait a few years for the talk. I’m pretty sure the universe just gave me a big fat fucking hint at that.” He grumbled into the couch.

“Hehe..I told you so~” Y/N said in a sing-songy voice.

“I tOLd YoU sOoo- SHUT UP!” Bakugou complained. Y/N just continued to laugh at her husband’s whine and just rubbed at his back to comfort his pain.

—

After cleaning up the mess Katsuki made at Katsumi’s door and helping her daughter wash up, Y/N finally put Katsumi to bed and met her husband down stairs. He was still on the couch but this time he was sitting while watching some random channel on TV. He noticed Y/N and opened up his arms for her. Y/N joined him on the couch but laughed a little as she cuddled into his side.

“Umm..Suki?”

“Yes love?”

“When are you gonna take off that boa and tiara?”

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