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shadesoflsk · 2 months

Text

MOONTALK

pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN Reader.

summary: After retiring, Leon often has nightmares about his past. Talking under the moon's gaze seems to help.

warnings: Smut MDNI, just oral (m receiving), angst to fluff to smut hehe, mentions of death, violence, and alcohol, catholic symbolism, dad bod leon hehe (x2) subby leon, reader is called spouse.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: Hello! This is very simple since I'm trying to get better at writing smut for gender neutral readers :) There's not enough content and while I improve at writing the whole sex scene I shall bring you this! (I'm open to suggestions or constructive criticism.) As always, I hope you're having a good week!

The starry night is chosen to be Leon’s witness in the middle of his stolen slumber.

It’s a common occurrence, part of himself longs for the pain-filled activity since it serves as a reminder of his own life. Night terrors scare him more than his anxiety. The first one clings to his soul and threatens him with an inability to wake up. Helpless to his own mind, he prefers to be fully awake.

However, his brain isn’t his friend. Even when awake and aware of his surroundings, his mind would recreate scenarios he has lived before. Blood dripping and sticking to his combat boots, the smell of the iron-ish liquid filling his nostrils painfully making its home in Leon’s head, messing up with his perception of the world and himself.

Somewhere in that messed up path, he had found you.

He didn’t intend to, it wasn’t in his plans to. He had locked his heart and thrown the key somewhere in the sea of his failures.

A feeling of regret brimmed in Leon’s soul. How could his name be attached to yours if the sole mention of Leon Scott Kennedy brought memories of hell on Earth? A former rookie cop, ready to risk his life on duty turned into the government's best weapon. He’s made peace with that, ever since his mission in San Francisco his life has gotten significantly better.

But that doesn’t mean it has stopped hurting.

He once heard Jesus presented his left cheek to be slapped. In the past, he’d have imagined the mere thought of being that naive was ridiculous.

“You have heard that it was said, 'Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.”

Now, that passage has been planted in his heart like a thorn that wouldn't go away no matter how much he pinched the skin. But rather than being a bothersome feeling, it shaped him into the man he is now.

He would never be Jesus, he knows that much. Ever since he was a kid, his connection to religion was always dangling between trust and distrust; faith and doubt. Fear crossed his juvenile and innocent expression whenever he came across a statue of the people’s lord and savior.

God bad, Jesus good. People good and bad. The Old Testament was the backbone for Leon’s hatred towards God. If this supernatural being ‘loved’ his people, why would he punish them?

Sins are ambiguous. Killing is bad. But if he had killed creatures that were no longer humans, is he a sinner without redemption?

He’s still coming around that last statement. Were they really no longer humans?

That’s why he prefers the New Testament. A fresh start, a new life being born. Jesus wouldn’t judge him for the man that he was and is.

And just like him, he turned his left cheek in a mission in San Francisco years ago, when he ended Maria’s life. Bitter and revengeful for killing her father, the woman made it her mission to murder Leon. But ultimately (and ironically) she ceased to exist in Leon’s arms.

‘Revenge’ was met with a ‘Now you can be with your dad again.’ Merciful, he had granted her a last moment of peace.

The soundless night heightens Leon’s senses. As he tries to brush off his worries, some footsteps break the unnerving silence that Leon is in. His ears focus on the soft pace that he easily identifies as yours.

Recognition turned into monotone and monotone into mundane. And don’t get him wrong, God he loves feeling he has finally found his home.

Leon’s arms are resting on the balcony railway, blue eyes focused on the starry night.

“You should be sleeping.” He flatly says without turning to face you. Not out of apathy but guilt. Not being next to you has woken you up.

“Can’t sleep without my husband.”

Sensing you approaching, he opts to tease, trying to divert your attention somewhere else. “Wouldn’t be my dear spouse if you weren’t clingy.”

“I’m not clingy.” But you wouldn’t allow Leon’s usual antics. You know them by heart, lighthearted jokes instead of facing reality. “I’m just worried,”

“You worry too much.”

“But I’m always right.”

A sigh.

Teeth biting the inside of his cheek.

“It’s hard to sleep sometimes.” The phrase is not directed at you, but a response to his own thoughts. For him, safe and sound sleep is a blessing he’s not lucky enough to receive.

“I know.” And then again, your reply isn’t about yourself. A feeble smile appears on your face out of empathy and partial understanding. Standing next to him, your elbows rest on the balcony railway, the chill air sending goosebumps through your skin. “Did you dream about something?”

Leon’s eyebrows knit in concentration as he mull over her question. When he tries recalling his past moment of slumber he is met with the usual gruesome scenario and the same gut-wrenching screams.

“Same old tale.” He exhales. In the past he would have had a glass of whiskey in his hand, tilting the content to one side as he gazed over the starry sky. But he made a promise, and as much as his past comes back to haunt him, he’d keep it.

“Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“Why I don't believe you?”

He brings a calloused hand to his mouth as he registers your words. Under the moonlight, his expression gives away his exhausted state, a hint of darkness around his eyes, a permanent faint frown.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yet here I am asking.” It’s not until now that you notice Leon’s shirtless torso. Most of his scars are turning a light white color while his bruises are changing their hues. His body is not the same from a few years ago. His abdomen no longer shows off his chiseled abs but a slightly round and soft belly.

“Feels like I’m walking in circles.” He finally answers with his eyes closed. His restless mind can’t give him a break. Unable to completely live in peace, he finds himself pondering about his own humanity.

“The past is always clearer at night.” With an expression akin to resignation, he looks at you. “And the past tells me I’m a monster.”

The faint sound of the clock could be heard even when they were both gazing into the sky and letting their thoughts be consumed by the chill night. It reaches the dreaded ‘Devil’s hour,’ 3 AM.

“You aren’t a monster.” And it is the truth. While Leon is a complex man, it is not a difficult task to unravel and search through the layers he has covered himself in. His heart beats for the nation and therefore its citizens.

“If I’m not a monster then what am I?” He replies, his face growing somber. “If what I’ve done isn’t destruction what is it?”

“Salvation.”

It is far from salvation. It’s selfish to even think that way.

Sadly, Leon was the designated pawn to complete the job nobody wants to do.

Sadly, Leon is no more than a victim in the web of despair and destruction.

“Salvation.” He scoffs, a sharp ironic demonstration that your words weren’t the best. “I used to fight while the innocents kept falling at my feet.”

A glimpse of a past self appears in front of you. Chaos and loathing unfurls.

It’s been years since you last saw the man who used to drown himself in the deadly burning liquid. However, the alcohol no longer filled the empty spaces in his body and soul.

Truthfully speaking, nobody can fix or heal anyone. But you gladly took the role of being Leon’s partner in life. Not only romantically speaking. Silently, you made a home in Leon’s heart and he was too comfortable with you to ask you to leave him.

“You didn’t do it in the first place.” You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The government did.”

“But I was just another bullet in a gun.” He replies softly, his gaze drifting forward. Even after all of these years, he couldn’t completely shake off the guilt that kept haunting him. “Another man with his finger on the trigger… I was just a man with a gun.”

“And you’re also a man with a heart.” You respond immediately, not giving him a chance to continue his venom-filled words toward himself.

“If you were the demon you think you are, these late-night thoughts wouldn’t be haunting you as they do. You wouldn’t be mourning every soul even after all these years.” Your words bring a sense of comfort amidst the internal battle that is occurring inside him. The weight of his burden has always been more bearable with you.

“You think I’m that much of a saint?” A faint smile tug at Leon’s lip. A troubled expression on his face tells you he is still not believing your words. Or perhaps, he feels like he shouldn’t believe you.

“I don’t think you’re a saint. Humans are much more than black or white, good or bad. We are gray.”

Your statement is true. Humans are far from being one-dimensional beings. The balance has always been there and he knows it. When he was a child and religion was still an important part of his life, he remembers when Jesus protected Mary Magdalene.

‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.’

Leon had stained his hands with blood and gore, but he had also saved countless lives when the odds were against him.

“God… I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” He laughs, finally bringing you closer to him with his arm around your waist.

“No, you’re just human.” You reply, admiring the view your balcony provides, you think about the endless possibilities in life. If you hadn't met Leon, where would you be? And if Leon hadn't met you? How his life would look right now?

Universe works in mysterious ways, if you hadn't been in the right place at the right time, you wouldn't have your soulmate next to you.

A comfortable silence sets in as Leon finally relaxes and gives his mind a break. There were days and nights in which his brain was weak, but that doesn’t mean he hasn't gotten better.

“I would do laundry and taxes with you in every timeline.” You break the silence with a quote from a movie both of you had watched and Leon being the moviegoer he is, you know he’ll recognize it.

“That's not how the line goes, you silly.”

Bingo.

“Then enlighten me, Mr. I know every movie by heart.”

“It is ‘in another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.’” He states matter-of-factly which gains a laugh from you. But in a way, you’re used to his antics and almost nerdy personality only you get to see.

But your words mixed with the ones from the movie hold a glimmer of truth. Even in a timeline in which he wasn’t an agent and just a regular citizen, you’d have fallen for him. Because his past doesn’t make him the man he is now.

In another life, you’d love him over and over again.

“But I’d do all those things in this life and even in the afterlife.”

His eyes fall on you, the glimmer in them now being obvious. Just a few words from his love would pull him out from his depressive nights.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“I’m just amazing like that.” You wrap your arms around Leon's neck while his hands rested on your middle section. “Now hug me because I’m fucking freezing.”

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Laughing, he pulls you closer in a tight embrace. “I’d hate for you to catch a cold. Besides… I need my cuddling partner every night.”

As both of you move out of the balcony and away from the cold wind of the night. Leon’s hands move painfully obvious to your rear. After his late thoughts, he only wants to feel you close to him.

“I don’t think you want to cuddle.” You remark the obvious. Leon just chuckles, nodding.

“Aside from being the perfect partner you’re also a mind reader?”

You step in your bedroom. Place that has been witness to Leon’s most vulnerable moments, from the times in which he'd come back from a mission to the ones in which both of you would get lost in each other's bodies.

His sanctuary, your heaven.

You smile at him as you motion him to sit down on the bed. Both of your eyes are locked in a gaze that says what you are feeling, love. No matter how hard his or your days could be, both of you could always come back to a partner that takes care of them. No matter the situation.

As he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, you lean closer and press a kiss to his forehead, to his nose, to his cheek, and lastly to his lips. This last one lingers more than the others, sweet and slow, like how you want to treat him tonight.

“I love you.” You whisper as you pull back from the kiss, your thumb grazing over his stubbled jaw.

“Love you more.” He responds with the same tenderness you have brought him. After saying his words, his hands traveled to where your hips were, attempting to pull you closer.

“Nuh-uh. Tonight’s about you, sir.” You have your mind set that this night is going to be all about the perfect husband you have in front of you.

With that, your lips once again found their home but this time it was on Leon’s neck.

With your lips giving some attention to Leon’s sensitive skin, you treat him like he was fragile porcelain.

After a few moments, you slowly lower yourself until you're between his thighs. Another reminder of how much his body has changed, his thighs were fuller and bit less toned than before.

He has seen you like this before, on your knees and with the sweetest of looks but dear God it gets better every day.

You press your cheek against Leon’s inner thigh, your hand rubbing the flesh that is still covered with his sweatpants. He was no longer an active agent therefore he had gained some weight which you completely love. He blames the alcohol he used to drink so much and the lack of high-impact exercise. But you always reassure him that you love him nonetheless.

Your hand creeps to his clothed crotch, you gently trace along the bulge that has already formed. Leon’s breath is starting to get heavier but nothing too scandalous, for now.

“I haven’t even touched properly and you’re already this hard.” You are trying to be gentle, but there’s something about having control over him even when you’re on your knees that just prompts you to tease him a hit.

“Might as well cum in the spot, don’t you think? Bet you’re already imagining me pulling down your boxers and stroking your cock.” The face Leon was making could send you straight to heaven.

“You’re the devil…” Leon tries, he tries to gather himself by making a joke. But his high-pitched speech comes out pathetic. A rebuttal? More like a whine.

“What? My handsome husband can’t handle the spice? I expected better.” The praise seems to hit a spot somewhere in his body because the way his hips just bucked and sought the friction of your hand was contradictory to his previous words.

“Please…” And after that whimper, you no longer want to tease the man. Especially tonight in which he deserves the best.

“Ok, ok. I gotcha…” You murmur, wasting no more time and pulling his sweatpants down. A wet spot is already formed in his gray boxers. Then again, more teasing words flood your mind but you brush them off.

With a gentle kiss on his inner thigh, your fingers hook around the fabric and slide it down. His dick springs forward, and as always, it makes your mouth water. It’s the same image as always, slightly curved lenght with veins you had memorized by now and a reddish tip that tells you how bothered and pent-up he’s been.

Marriage has always been depicted as a boring and monotonous lifestyle, in which you get bored of your spouse after a couple of years. In a sense, you understand where they come from. However, Leon and you always made sure to keep things interesting, and as corny as it sounds, both of you try to make the other fall in love again.

You press a kiss on his tip, holding back a laugh as you know how sensitive he must be. The slightest touch has him gripping the bedsheets.

“You’re teasing.” He says as his lips form a pout. His calloused hands flatten on top of your hair

“Am I?” You give his shaft a few kitten licks, not breaking eye contact while doing so.

Finally, your shenanigans are followed by your lips wrapping around his tip, sucking the area. That gains a whimper out of Leon, the ones you’re so used to.

When you first met the stoic agent, you wouldn’t have thought that he’d be so vocal in bed. Even when he was supposed to be on top, he’d let the most beautiful moans against your ears. asking for permission to continue, asking for permission to fill you up.

For a moment, your lips continue sucking off his tip. Your saliva coating the area and sloppily making out with the head of his dick. Your fingers wrap around the base of it, almost overwhelming Leon with the amount of attention he is receiving.

“Ah — Fuck…” His eyes roll back as you finally take him whole. The previous ministrations long forgotten as your mouth and part of your throat surround his sensitive cock.

You bob your head, slowly at first, controlling your breath as Leon involuntarily thrusts his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. You place your hand on Leon’s thigh, to motion him to stand still.

“Shit — sorry, sorry…” His voice gets slightly higher, now his previous words turn into pleas or straight-up moans. Drool pools at the corner of your mouth as your tongue runs on the underside of his cock.

“Too good for me…” He’s reduced to just babbles and whines, his knuckles turn white as keeps on gripping the bedsheets, an awful attempt to drown more moans. As you continuously bob your head, Leon could feel his high coming.

Unconsciously and given his dazed out state, he brings his leg to your shoulder. You were completely focused on him and this simple action made your concentration break a bit. He’s putty in your hands, his brain no longer functioning whenever you are in control.

You’d edge him, you’d definitely tease him for that. But now, you just continue sucking him off with the inner side of his thigh brushing against your cheek.

“I’m gonna — Fuck…” It’s not a warning, but a comment, a needy announcement. As much as he denies it, there’s not a better image than seeing you covered with his cum, or watching you swallow it whole. It made him feel a sense of pride, knowing that his spouse is the one making him come undone.

And as your tongue runs along a vein, he couldn’t contain it any longer. With a high pitched whine and throwing his head back, he spills down your throat.

The warm liquid fills your mouth and some of it drips from the corner of your lips.

You stay still for a moment, collecting every last drop of Leon’s cum. When you feel Leon’s hand on your shoulder —the one that doesn’t have his leg on it— you know he was asking you for a break.

Pulling out with a pop, you gently move his leg for him to rest.

For a few seconds, you just massage your jaw as Leon tries to recover. Heavy breaths fill the dark room, allowing you to relax once again.

“You good?” You ask as you are sitting down on the floor.

“Yeah — Just… give me a second.” He laughs, closing his eyes. A loving smile forms on his face.

You laugh too, getting up from the floor, you admire the scene Leon provides you: All of his body exposed to you, his sweatpants and boxers pooling at his ankles, and his fucked out expression.

Heaven.

After a minute or so, Leon composes himself.

“I’ll make sure to wake up every night if this is the treatment I get.”

“Next time I will just tie you up to the bed.”

“Oh? I like the sound of that.”

Laughing, you slap his naked chest as he pulls you closer. Nights like this are a reminder of his humanity and his right to love and to be loved. The past can never be changed or forgotten, but he can learn from it.

💬shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

author's note 2: I just had to mention eeaao! It's one of my favorite movies and I know Leon would love it. Sorry if it was too sappy of me but then again... I'm always like that.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader

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nocturnesmoon · 5 months

Text

Safety Nets

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x GN!Reader Wordcount: 6k Tags: Polyamory, established relationship, Hurt/comfort, a LOT of comfort, the guys take care of you, that's the fic CW/TW: Military inaccuracies? canon typical violence, insecurities, heavy self doubt and self blame, minor character death, A/N: This is probably inaccurate mission and military wise but idc i wanted to write something like this for so long- though i am open to constructive criticism if you got some notes. (Read on Ao3)

-You come back from a mission that shook you to your core, the boys help you back on your feet as they always do-

The wind raged like a storm in your ears, despite the heavy earmuffs which sat too tight on your head, you could hear it clearly. When you closed your eyes, you could imagine it being a hurricane, a wind so strong it would scoop you up and carry you to who knows where. One that would tear you apart and leave no remnants of who you were.

The thought seemed nice, to be taken away and to never return. To be freed from not having to face your own failures in the disappointed stares, that awaited down on the rapidly approaching platform. Your body rocked with every little swerve of the helicopter, no longer having the strength to go against the motion.

"Lieutenant?" Your head snapped up to the soldier in front of you. You ignored the crack in your neck and the ache that pooled into your muscles. He'd been calling on you a few times now, his concerned eyes searching your face for an answer. "We're about to land sir," the soldier let you know, you couldn't muster up a verbal response, only a nod to acknowledge you'd heard.

Ever since they had picked you up on the site, they had that look of pity. It made you squirm, feeling all too self-aware of the way your clothes were caked in mud and blood. Your bones hurt, and your joints felt like snapping in half. You had spent the majority of the mission running, believing that you wouldn't make it out. You had fled, and you had left them behind.

The size of the heli was too big for just you, the soldier, and the pilot in the front. The space felt like caging you in, reminding you of your failure, of who you had lost. Your eyes threatened to shut, the exhaustion whispering in your ear that it would all feel a little better if you let yourself drift away into sleep.

Except every time your eyes slipped closed it wasn't darkness you saw, it was their screams, their blood, and their gore. The cracks you heard when one of the bullets pierced someone's skull echoed in your ears, as if you were still down there on the battlefield.

You were pulled back into your own head, your mind running laps to go through the mission once more. Every single second accounted for so you could dissect your failure. How each one of them had fallen, one by one they dropped like they were nothing. How you had ran with what was left of your team, until one got caught in a bear trap and pulled under falling debris, and the other was shot in the stomach.

You had hoped your head would fill with fog, that it would help you forget and suppress the last few moments of that soldier’s life. His name had been Jacob, his callsign Wisp, he had been difficult to deal with but his progress under your guidance had been noticeable. You hated how it was only now you could remember every little thing about him. Before you didn't care, you did your job in training him, guiding him, but you never made an effort to know him. You wished your brain would stop remembering every little thing now, making you feel all the more guilty.

You wished your brain would do that thing it's supposed to do, block out the traumatic memories so you didn't have to deal with them. Yet they were there still so fresh in your mind, like an open wound, his last words repeated over and over in your mind. You'd think someone's last words would be scared, or sentimental or a sweet last wish. Not his, no he decided his last wish was to let you know just how much you had failed them all.

Over and over again you replayed that memory, how his blood had mixed with the dirt and gravel under you both. You remember how his hand had clutched onto your arm, digging his nails through your sleeve and into your skin. He had pulled you down with him in his final moments, uttered those words into your ear with so much disdain the tone would have rocked your core on its own.

"This is your fault, you led us here."

There was more to his words, you were sure there was but maybe your brain was doing part of its job now. You could only cling to every part of the memory you could before it slipped away into the fog. It was only when someone gently nudged you that you snapped out of your own mind once more. "Sir?" your body went rigid at the touch and the voice, and you fought the distinct urge to disarm the person that was in front of you.

It was the same soldier that had been with you ever since they found you. He had been careful around you ever since he saw the casualties, walking on eggshells around you as if you were a loose cannon, maybe you were. "Sir?" he repeated, being a little more patient now that he had your attention, "We're here."

You felt your stomach drop, nodding slowly and glancing towards the opening doors, the platform outside. You could already glimpse at the two people that were waiting for you, they had probably been on edge for days. It only made you more guilty how you must have worried them, ever since your call for immediate evac. You weren't even sure you could reassure them once you got down there, you weren't sure you wouldn't just collapse to your knees the moment you were within their vicinity.

"Do you need help Lieutenant?" the soldier in front of you hadn't moved, it surprised you slightly, having been sure he would be just as eager to get off and way from your stench of death. For a moment you want to say yes, tell them to get someone to carry you, because your knees would give out the moment you went to stand, but how would that look for you. A new promising Lieutenant, the first op you led after you got your new rank and it turned out like this.

You didn't dare look up at the soldier, too afraid that your own eyes would give you away. You considered for a moment, to tell the soldier to go get the only two people who would know what to do. The only two people you would trust enough to become vulnerable with. "No..." your voice barely comes through, but he seems to register it, his legs moving quickly to get down on the platform. It was time to face them.

It had been a long few days ever since you said goodbye to the two of them. 72 hours since you had left on the plane with the promise of being back sometime the next day. 24 since Johnny had started complaining about your absence. 6 since Simon had been alerted of the fact you had called for immediate evac, that the supposedly simple mission had gone wrong in every way possible.

He hadn't relayed all the grueling details to Johnny, just that the op had gone wrong and that you might come back a little rattled. Simon wasn't entirely sure what had gone wrong either, he just knew there was casualties, and the team wasn't coming back in one piece. The scot next to him was restless, practically jumping in place from anxiety, watching intently as the heli descended and the doors opened.

Simon kept one step in front of him, knowing the man all too well, and even though his eagerness is shared within Simon's own veins, he knows that you might not be in a state that could positively receive that. He knew the both of you inside and out, the years he had spent with both you and Johnny allowed him to know you in ways he didn't think possible.

He was quick to find out exactly what made you both tick, what set you off, what made you happy and what would comfort you. He didn't like the uncertainty; it was a rocky start when he was still mapping out your emotions. By now you all knew each other well, like three puzzle pieces that fit together, you had found each other and filled out the holes in each other’s lives. Certainty was assured when he was with either of you because you both knew he needed it.

This was new, this was an uncertainty he didn't like. He had no idea what you would be like when you came down to the platform, down into their arms once again. Not to mention the fact you and nobody else had come out yet only churned that unsettling anxiety in his stomach further.

"L.T?" the sound of Johnny's accent filled his ears, his shoulders managing to relax just a little. He wasn't alone in this, he reminded himself, Johnny would be here to figure out how to help you as well. Johnny's pinky curled around Simon's, his urge to pull them both away from the public area would have overpowered if it wasn't for the fact, they were waiting for you.

The pilot had gotten out almost as soon as they landed, but you were still nowhere. He could just peak inside, trying to look for you or anyone else he would recognize. He only caught a glimpse of your form, hidden behind another soldier who was speaking to you. "What's taking 'em so long," Simon mumbled quietly, his mask obscuring his already quiet speech.

Johnny let out a heavy sigh, the hold his pinky finger had was surprisingly strong. They shared the anxiousness, the uncomfortable knowledge that you weren't okay. "Ah dinnae ken" he answered, trying to angle himself so he could get a better look at you. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot he could see at the distance.

They waited, as patiently as they could, the inconspicuous grip they had on each other also served to hold themselves back. Their resolve was wearing thin, and they both knew it, that soldier was talking to you about something, something they didn't know about, and they didn't like it. Simon almost completely lost it when he saw the soldier emerge without you, but his attention was quickly turned when you appeared not long after.

Your walk was slow, in no hurry to get back to them, it should've been the first sign. You looked around as if you were confused, as if you hadn't walked down this path a hundred times before. Johnny wasted no time bolting forward, closing in on you with the clear goal that you were his target. It startled you and Simon almost wanted to berate Johnny in that moment for being so quick with his movements.

Though what Simon saw almost made him want to have a little more time to prepare. The look in your eye rattled something foreign in his bones. It was something familiar, something he had seen in himself once upon a time. Something terrifying he'd never have wished upon you, how it felt when his bare soul had been chipped away at. He looked behind you, expecting some other members of your team to perhaps clue them in on the horror that had occurred.

The hit felt even harder when he realized, you were the only one.

By the time they had gotten you inside and settled in the tub you were a little more present. Your awareness a little higher from when they were on the platform. You had barely spoken a word to them, so vary of threats on every corner that you didn't even let your guard down for them as you usually did.

Only when they had managed to drag you inside, convinced you that your report could wait for later, and gotten you safely inside the space of your own quarters, did you settle. Johnny had carefully helped you out of your clothes, taking the task of cleaning you up and settling you into the safe atmosphere that was them.

He had whispered soft praise in your ears as he removed layer after layer, meanwhile suppressing the want to berate you for each little wound he found on your body. He knew you didn't need the extra scolding, the pure shock from the mission would be enough for you. However, he still felt that sting of hurt in his heart, knowing that neither he nor Simon was there to look after you, to take care of you.

He was well aware that you were capable on your own, you wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't good at what you did. If your rank wasn't enough to go from, then your other various accomplishments on your resume was. But when he saw you like this, with the silent knowledge that you could've been wiped out along with the rest, it put a dark cloud over his mind.

He helped you slowly lower yourself into the bath Simon had previously prepared. You winced in pain when the warm water touched your wounds. None of them were severe enough to cause major worry, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt just as much. Your movements were sloggy, relying on Johnny to not lose yourself completely.

"There ye are," Johnny mumbled quietly, forcing a soft smile on his lips in hopes you soothing you. You let out a shuddering sigh, doing your best to relax into the warm water. You pulled your legs close to your chest, resting your tin atop your bruised knees. "Oh leannan," he gently presses his lips to your temple, cradling your head in an attempt for comfort.

It feels like you're not fully present, watching the world from a third person view that doesn’t exist. You have half of your comfort with you, his hands grabbing the washcloth and slowly moving it over your skin. You look around the small bathroom, trying to locate the other half of your comfort, the missing equation.

"Si..." You're taken aback on your own voice, the croak and soreness of it all leaving you wondering whether you had yelled or screamed more than you thought. You tried to think back on it, settling your mind into the mission again but it made a headache form.

Johnny's motion came to a slow stop, his eyes catching your pleading ones. He knew what you wanted, but he wasn't the one that could give it to you. "He's comin' soon," he does his best at keeping your calm, "S'ok jus' relax." His free hand finds your cheek, making you focus your vision on him.

You lean into it, your body trembling slightly beneath his touch. It was warm and safe, two things you hadn't felt ever since you left. He moved the washcloth over your face, rubbing at the dirt that had infested itself on your skin. His eyes never left your face, his attention and devotion completely yours. His eyes fell on your trembling lips, before quickly flickering upwards to see the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

"S'ok love, yer okay" He lets the washcloth rest on the edge of the tub so he could take your face in both hands. His forehead leans against yours, bringing you close and gently coaxing you into more contact. "Just breathe with me aye, he'll be back in no time" your eyes fluttered closed, listening to his instructions, glad that you were able to let go of the part of your brain that needed to make decisions.

Fortunately, he was right, as he often is.

Heavy footsteps could be heard and then the creak of the door, it made you snap your eyes open, their searching beginning once more. They landed on the tall brute, Simon's eyes fixated on you since the moment he made his way into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and made his way towards the tub, planting himself on the toilet seat right next to it.

He was still wearing his mask, tired eyes searching your body and gliding over the wounds in your traumatized state. He lets out a deep sigh, reaching his hand up to his mask and slowly sliding it off. You had seen his face so many times, by now it shouldn't affect you anymore, yet still you can't help that feeling you get when you see him shed the mask in front of you and Johnny. The trust he has in the two of you makes your heart flutter.

The look he's giving you almost makes you feel ashamed, even though you know that he's just concerned. He's always been, that's why he's so harsh on you, on Johnny, even on occasion Garrick. You're pretty sure the only reason he isn't like that on Price as well is because of his higher rank and better experience. He's trained you hard so you could overcome anything, but no amount of training could prepare you for this kind of thing.

Johnny leans back, allowing Simon more space to move closer. You move before he does, leaning your body slightly to the side. The sound of splashing water went deaf on your ears, even as Johnny yelped from some of the water going overboard. Your chin ended up nestled atop Simon's thigh, his eyes never leaving you as you moved. His hand coming down to rest on the back of your head.

"How we doin' pet?" his voice of gravel is like a blanket for your soul, the years of smoking giving him a voice that makes you shiver. In truth you don't feel like speaking, you don't feel like answering at all. You know you have to; you can't hide forever but you still hope they won't inquire about the mission just yet.

You let out a huff, almost hoping that the answer would suffice for Simon, but he keeps looking at you with those expectant eyes. "I don't know," you whisper quietly, letting your eyes fall, your body going slack against the side of the tub.

Simon nods in response, a hum of understanding going out to you. "S'fine, you don't have to know right now," he tells you, giving you the peace of mind to just have a non-conditional existence between them.

Johnny picks up the washcloth again, guiding your arms in his direction so he could continue his work of getting you clean. They're both quick and efficient with cleaning you up, Simon's rough voice filling the room as he updates you on things that's happened since you were gone. It's not much, mostly trivial things you don't care about and will likely forget, but it keeps your calm, giving you something else to focus on.

"Ye should've seen Cap he was livid," Johnny's laughs and you muster a smile, hearing about his latest misadventures, and the dumb thing's he'd rode Gaz into. His hands run over your scalp, working in the shampoo and grimacing when he takes out a small clump of dirt. "Aye darling, how the hell did ye get so caked in mud anyway," he sighs, parting your strands to get to the nape of your neck.

You bend your head down to allow him to work through your hair without straining his arms. "I..." you do your best to think back, but the number of times you fell down and scraped against things were a blur. "I think i tripped a lot...it was a muddy area," You held back a pleasured groan, as Johnny worked his fingers over your scalp, small goosebumps going down your back and arms.

"I don't really remember," you admit and let out an exasperated sigh. Johnny finishes up your hair, going for a little longer than necessary in hopes of keeping your enjoyment going awhile longer. When he pulls back to reach for the shower head, he boops your nose, leaving some soap on your face. His mischievous grin is infectious, and it manages to tug the corners of your lips upwards. The way his eyes light up when he sees your half smile makes your heart hurt, you've worried them so much, you're still worrying them.

As soon as they got you out of the water you were clinging to them like a leech. Refusing to let go of the precious contact you've already established with them. They move you around between them, molding you to them as they do the teamwork of getting you dry. Simon peppers soft kisses to your lips and cheeks while Johnny moves the towel over your back.

Even after they're done getting you as dry as they can, they keep you there. Sandwiched between them they hold you tight, and in tune each other. Johnny's head nestled in the crook of your neck and Simon's chin resting on top of your head. It's a stance that squeezes you tight, your own head getting light from the amount of love they try to squeeze into your bones.

It makes your heart burn, and your eyes sting with tears. Your breathing coming out in small gasps, as you end up choking back on a sob. Every single little thing coming crashing down on you now that you know you're safe in their arms. They've always got you, ready to catch you in case you fall. That hasn't changed, and being so subtly reminded by them brings it all out.

"Breathe," you aren't sure who says it, the disorienting feeling not alleviating even as they accommodate you. "Good Good," you recognize Simon's praising voice when you manage to take a few deep breaths. The tears never manage to fall but you don't doubt that they both know just by looking at your pathetic state.

"Love, we need to treat your wounds," he starts off quietly, not having any haste to move you, "Johnny'll go get you some food, and then we can get you settled into bed, okay?" He's making it sound more like a question, but you know it's just to make you aware of their next movements.

Even so you can't help but cling to Johnny's presence as he starts to unattach himself from the cuddle. You look up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would stay if you just used puppy eyes enough. You almost think he'll budge as he moves closer to you again, his lips descending onto yours for a chaste kiss. Reluctantly he pulls away again, "Be back soon, ah promise ye."

Before you can protest and force him to stay, Simon scoops you up and places you on the bathroom counter. Distracting you from Johnny's quest of finding food that will be easily digested. He holds your face in his hand to keep your eyes on him, while the other one rummage through a cabinet.

You had gotten extremely lucky all things considered, the worst of your injuries the long scrapes on your back from sliding down a hill with sharp rocks. The rest included rough bruises, sore joints, and jumbled mind. Your other teammates had been much less fortunate, led right into their death by your own incompetence.

You're softly called back to reality, Simon gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek and calling your name. You don't know how long you were zoned out, but it was long enough to give him that worried glint in his eye. "Sorry..." you croak, swallowing thickly to hold it all back but this time it's not as easy.

The tears come slow and quiet, the shake in your body forcing them out of your waterline and down your cheekbones. He gently wipes them away, pulling you in closer to his body again and cradling you against his chest. "You survived," he reminds you, "You're still here."

You want to nod along with him and take in his words to keep close. But you don't know if you agree with him, you survived but should you have? Why did you survive and not Jacob, not any of the other soldiers who trusted you to see it through.

Simon placed a soft kiss to the top of your head and then leaned over you to get a look at your back. He gave no reaction to whatever he saw as to not make you panic, though from the bleeding warmth in your back told you it probably wasn't looking the best.

"Lean back for me pet," he instructs you, slowly plucking you from his chest. With a reluctant sigh you lean back and look down at yourself. Your eyes trailing over every little bruise that littered your body. Simon was silent as he took care of you, giving you gentle squeezes over small kisses after every little wince you made.

When he was done treating the visible wounds, you could hear Johnny rustling around outside the bathroom. The only thing left was your back, the one you dreaded the most out of all your wounds. Simon leaned back just as Johnny came back into the room, a set of your clothes hanging over his arm. He places it on the counter and picks through it, handing you a fresh set of underwear, sweats, and t-shirt.

"Wait with the shirt, need to check over your back," Simon reaches over for the underwear and sweats, helping you into it and lowering you back to the floor. You stretch out your limbs, groaning as you feel the exhaustion in your body, your joints popping when you stretch your arms above your head.

Johnny takes your hand in his own, smiling at you and leading you into the bedroom. "Ah found ye some soup, there wasn't a lot to choose from at this hour," he told you as you crawl onto the bed. You glance at the nightstand, the soup bowl steaming and looking good enough to make your mouth water. The little chocolate bar next to it makes you smile, just until Simon guides you to lay on your stomach.

The real pain is about to start, you think. His hands smoothe over your back, avoiding the ridges of your wounds and grabbing the salve. "It'll be quick, am sure" Johnny lowers himself onto the bed next to you, mimicking your way of laying. His head right next to yours, his loving eyes staring into your own and the giddy smile he wore made you huff out the air in your lungs.

"Hi"

His hand reaches out and caresses your cheek, gently running his fingers over your scalp. He does his best at distracting you from the pain in your back. "How ye feelin'?" he asks quietly, his thumb running over your cheek and fixating on your lip.

"Like shit," you scoff and turn your face into the mattress. You feel Simon's hand run over your back, the aching pain making you whine into the sheets. His hands hesitate, smoothing over unscarred skin as an apology before going back to his work.

The work on your wounds is tedious, and when he finally pulls away your eyelashes are wet. The clutch you have on the sheets beneath you is starting to hurt your knuckles. Simon's touch leaves you, but you don't take any action to turn or move. Someone else guides you to move, the difference in touch leading you to believe it's Johnny.

He moves you closer to him, slowly turning you up so you're sitting and leaning against him. He gently helps you into a t-shirt before moving you around like a ragdoll once more. You're settled between his legs, your back to his front and his big forearms wrapped around your waist. He buries his head in your neck, squeezing you and inhaling your scent as if it's the only thing he ever needs.

"C'mon, you need'ta eat," the bed dips as Simon gets back on it, this time having the bowl of soup in hand. He settles in front of you both, reaching forward and gently rubbing your calf. "And we need to talk," he knows you don't want to, that you'd rather bury it deep. Unfortunately for you, he also knows where that will lead you, and the sooner you put it into words for them the easier you'll be able to process it.

You take the bowl from him, agreeing to at least eat something. You couldn't remember when you last had gotten something nutritional, your stomach felt like a gaping hole that was trying to eat itself. You brought the spoon to your lips and savored the taste. Despite the limited options Johnny had still managed to get the things you liked.

"Don't wanna talk," you mumble between your bites, trying to ignore the look Simon is giving you by staring into your swirling soup. "There's nothin' to talk about," You swallow thickly, ever since you had been back you had been fighting the thoughts that urged to trap you. They were just waiting for you to trip in your careful state, they would pull you under the bridge, drown you into the water until you couldn't breathe through your panic.

Simon didn't let go of your leg, rubbing slow soothing circles into your calf. His full attention was on you, and there was nowhere to hide from the man in front of you and the man behind you. Johnny placed a soft kiss to your neck, and mumbled into your skin, "We know ye don' wanna, Leannan, but when ye came back ye were like a Ghost."

When you didn't answer they elected to let you eat in silence for a while longer, unaware to the emotional storm inside your body. You knew that you would have to make that report eventually, that they would hear about the details eventually. But actually, being met with the demand was something else entirely.

You didn't know if you could bear their reactions, the thought of them being disappointed in you made the anxiety roar. You didn't want them to realize that all the time they had spent being proud of you for your achievement had been wasted. That you were nothing of what you promised to be.

You only realized how shaky your hands had become again when you raised the spoon to take another bite. Simon let out a soft sigh, before taking the spoon and bowl from you so you didn't spill on yourself or Johnny. "Darling?" the question was laid bare for you, he gave you the opening to start talking, to confide in them like you always did.

Your hands fall to your lap, right along with your sight. You try to calm your own nerves, trying to rationalize the stirring thoughts in your head. After an elaborate breath, that is more like an exhausted sigh, you find your words. "It was supposed to be a simple op, and it was in the start, find the target and neutralize him," you start quietly, grasping your own hands together.

"But once we were there and set up, nothing went as planned," you lightly shake your head along to your words, "They knew we were coming and hunted us like dogs." You swallow thickly, noting how the shakiness had nestled into your voice. "I tried to reroute our objective; we tried getting out of there, but this was unlike anything I had ever been up against."

Johnny's hand came to encapsulate your own, stilling your shakiness and you freeze up. Feeling all to self-aware all of a sudden, how the attention was on you, as they listened like you were the most important thing in the world. It was both a warm and agonizing feeling, their protectiveness was nice, but it was also scary.

"We were so close to getting out but...they were faster and I...I couldn't..." you choked back on your own voice, feeling the hotness burn on the back of your eyes. "They were better..." you admitted in a whisper, "If I had taken a different route maybe we could have avoided the trap, maybe we could have gotten the drop on them before they got to my team but...."

The feeling of Simon's hand cupping your cheek made you halt, teary eyes meeting his in temporary shock. "It wasn't your fault love," the sincerity in his voice rocks something deep in you, "There was no way anyone could've known." You tilt your head to the side slightly, you wanted to argue, to tell him you could've done a thousand things better.

"Aye, ye acted just how ye were supposed to, ye kept a level head and guided the rest to the best of yer ability," Johnny briefly took over. His voice was hot on your ear, his quiet whispers just as reassuring as the hand on your cheek, "Ye did everything ye could, and ye survived because of it."

"But they didn't..." You sank further into Johnny, sniffling as you held his thumb inside the little cocoon, he made of both of your hands. "They died because of me," you try to argue, despite being grateful that they didn't seem mad you almost wanted them to lash out, to give you right, to let you feel like a monster.

"They didn't die because of you, they died in action, trying to complete the mission they were given," Simon's voice turned a tad harsh, the determination to get through to you all the more prominent. "They knew this was a possibility when they signed up, you did everything you could for them, and the way you make it up to them is to keep going," he told you sternly.

"I know what it's like, to have people fall under your command," he sighs, "S'never not tough, and it's all too easy to fall into the spiral of whose fault it was." You paid close attention to him as he spoke, he always had a captivating way of speaking, just like when he dished out orders, he commanded authority in his mere presence. "It's somethin’ that happens love, it's important to mourn and assess," he looks you directly in the eye, "But it's also important that you know, it makes you neither monster nor failure."

You never knew whether to love or hate the way he could read your brain like had he telepathy, or personal access to your every little fear and sorrow. "It doesn’t make it feel any better," you said quietly, tilting your head into his palm, nuzzling against his skin.

"I know" he puts the half-finished bowl on the nightstand, "Gonna hurt for a while, but we'll be here with you through it." He gave you a half smile, moving closer so he could place a kiss to your forehead. "We're not going anywhere, ain't that right Johnny?" he glances to the man behind you.

"Aye," Johnny's chest rumbles with a hum, his lips placing a trail of loving kisses over your neck. "Not gonna let those nasty thoughts get to ye," he whispers and slowly moves you as Simon directs. Johnny gets you on your side in the bed, your back pressed even further into his chest. Simon gets out of the bed but only for a brief moment. The lights turn off above you, and soon after the bed dips.

You sigh when you feel Simon's skin on your own, his lips find your cheek as he settles in with you and Johnny. His arm supporting both you and Johnny's heads, his other hand coming over you to hold onto the man behind you after moving your hair out of your face. Compressed between them like this always felt like heaven, the pressure they put on your body was grounding and reminded you that you weren't alone.

"Sleep now," Simon's voice rumbled, "We'll be here when you wake up, and we can try again."

They were always here for you, even when you didn't know you needed the extra support. They had worked with you for so long, you had changed a lot with them and for the better. You felt safe with them, no matter how many times you would fall, they would always be there to catch you and get you back on your feet.

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated<3

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sinnashuart · 2 months

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Zack's ADHD

Zack fair has ADHD. That's something I see tons of people acknowledge that I myself agree with, but a lot of it feels very shallow/surface level? I mostly see people talk about his diffculty paying attention, but never really explore a lot of the other symptoms of ADHD that he very clearly has. In general, ADHD has symptoms that can be put in two categories. These being inattentiveness and Hyperactivity/Impulsive behavior. I'm going to try to go into each symptom I've seen him display. Going through things that fall under inattentiveness since that's what most people focus on first and foremost! Obviously, Zack has a short attention span. The opening of Crisis core has Angeal setting him back on track multiple times, and has to remind him of his mission. That bleeds into another symptom of ADHD, which is having a hard time listening to or following instructions.

Another few symptoms of ADHD under inattentiveness is being disorganized, forgetful, and making careless mistakes. Zack has shown to fit under all of these things in DMW scenes. One in particular features him both losing materia AND forgetting his sword.

Again, we see that he's a messy person when he's talking to Aerith in another DMW scene.

Now I'm going to go into the symptoms that fall under Hyperactivity. Some of the most talked about symptoms he exhibits are a lack of ability to stay still, excessive physical movement, and excessive talking. Noteably too, people with ADHD can have difficulty controlling the volume of their voice, or how fast they speak. For example here, Zack is told right before to calm down by Angeal, and immediately proceeds to talk loudly (giving away their position.)

Circling back to the previously mentioned symptoms, trouble staying still and excessive movement are some of the few things I feel people notice first in correlation to ADHD, but never really think about what it really is in the context of ADHD. Zack tends to do squats when he's excited. It's a repeated motion he does to calm himself down and/or focus. Sound familiar? that's because it's stimming. Interupting conversations lines up with ADHD, and is something Zack does in-game too!

Here he interupts Angeal's speech (and gets a fond smile in turn. I will bring this up later for something else). Zack is impulsive by nature, and tends to rush into things without a clear plan. He has a very absent sense of danger sometimes as well. All of which fall under the Hyperactivity category of ADHD symptoms.

The symptoms I see in Zack that hardly a soul has acknowledged though, is him being easily frustrated or irritated. ADHD makes it hard to regulate emotions, and Zack showcases this a lot throughout Crisis Core. For Zack, this sometimes seems to fall under under Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which is common in people with ADHD. It's a discomfort and difficulty regulating feelings of failure or rejection. For Zack, this also takes the form of confusion/frustration/annoyance. However, in most instances of him taking criticism, he mostly manages to move past his and take the criticism/corrections to improve himself. Funnily enough, you can see his quick frustration/irritatrion in the very first cutscene when Angeal jumps down to elaborate on the parts of the mission he missed because Zack jumped a bit too soon due to his eagerness (more impulsivity). Zack gets angry due to this interuption to the task he was focused on, and becomes cheerful as soon as he is able to get back to his task. The frustration with interuption and being quickly upset is interesting. There are more instances of this kind of behavior, and it all really feels like it falls under this umbrella of him struggling to regulate his emotions. This also goes hand in hand with his stimming, since it isn't just the frustration/anger he has difficulty managing. His excitement and stress is something we also see him have difficulty managing, and can be tied into a lot of the other aspects of ADHD I have discussed here! Zack gets frustrated again later when Angeal ends the training simulator, and puts an end to the task he had been hyperfocused on.

It's an irrational anger, but it makes more sense when read through this lense. Zack was excited and hyperfocusing on his mission. He charged ahead without hearing or understanding the full objective, and almost got hurt (in the context of the training sim). The sim was ended before Zack felt it was "finished", which resulted in a frustration he expressed outwardly. His hasty behavior and exciteability is a core character trait, but makes far more sense if you read him as a character who lives with ADHD. How he is written and how other characters interact with him is interesting to watch as well! One thing in particular I love a lot is Angeal's treatment of Zack's ADHD tendencies. For being in the military, which is a very unforgiving enviornment, Angeal shows quite a lot of compassion for Zack's ADHD tendencies. Things that would normally get him into trouble are instead corrected rather gently! Angeal consistently repeats instructions to Zack when he needs it, and keeps a firm hand when he guides Zack through missions. He never tells Zack to sit still. He never berrates him for his interjections (Zack going "And? And and and?"). The only time he really scolds Zack is when he's doing something that may endanger them.

For example, here they're on a mission that requires stealth. Zack being loud isn't normally a problem, but here, they need to be relatively quiet in order to achieve their goal. Angeal is compassionate and understanding when Zack is... doing things that are very ADHD coded. As mentioned earlier, Angeal doesn't get upset when Zack interupts him. Instead, he just smiles. It's likely Angeal was the one who taught Zack to do squats to stim, actually. In the Ever Crisis version of Crisis Core, Angeal says this to Zack. Although it's not necessarily canon, it's still entirely plausible and just. Very wholesome.

More of Angeal's tolerance for Zack can be seen here, when Zack's attitude slips after being criticized, and Angeal pays it no mind. (Again, his rejection sensitive dysphoria plays a part in having him react rudely)

Again, you need to keep in mind that despite their closeness, Angeal is still both his mentor and superior. He doesn't have to be as patient with Zack as he is in-game, but he does so anyway because... that's just how he is. Angeal cares a LOT about his loved ones, and Zack is included in this. He shows a lot of love to this little guy! I think it's nice, because I love seeing characters with ADHD being treated with consideration by others. It's something I wish people did more IRL, really. Lots of ableism surrounding aspects of ADHD that aren't as easy to romanticize and considered "annoying", so having Angeal respond to them with understanding makes me incredibly happy. Altogether I just absolutely love Zack as a character. I love reading him with ADHD since I have it myself. I just want people to see the depth to it more though, since there's more to it than just "he's high energy and gets distracted". You get to understand his actions or irrational behavior a lot more when you dive past the surface of his writing. Big, massive, enormous fucking thanks to my bestie @rune-rapier for letting me bounce ideas to and from him!! He helped me get a lot of these scenes in here to analyze, and brought up a LOT of points that made it in this post, and made it a lot easier for me to word.

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an-idyllic-novelist · 9 months

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Leonidas and Buddha with fem!Giyuu!reader headcanons

Warning(s): RoR manga spoilers up to ch. 78, violence, KNY manga and anime spoilers, strong language from Leonidas and Sanemi, ooc.

Collab work with @deathmetalunicorn1, based on her own headcanons with fem!giyuu!reader and Leonidas. Images of Leonidas and Buddha were provided by @enryegotrip.

So with that being said guys, sit back, relax, and let’s dive into these headcanons! :)

Being a Demon Slayer did not mean to wait on a crow with orders and directions to find the flesh-eating monsters. There was also intel gathering, working closely with the kakushi so that they were not overwhelmed with the number of injured and deceased Slayers, and being pestered by your peers to take an apprentice because you are the only Hashira who doesn’t have one. That isn’t necessarily true, though. You had every intention of taking Tanjiro Kamado as a tsuguko once he was proven to be trustworthy by other Hashra and Lord Ubuyashiki.

He, at the very least, had what it takes to become the Water Hashira. He deserved to be the Water Hashira, more so than a failure like yourself. It makes sense to take Tanjiro and his sister in your care, housing them at the Waster Hashira residence with a room and food. So why was Kocho making a fuss about it? She stayed quiet about it before, and you assumed it was because she despised people who defended demons or disapproved of your decision to make Tanjiro your apprentice. But that shouldn’t be your concern, or Rengoku’s.

Lord Ubuyashiki has allowed these children a chance to prove themselves, and you will not grant the other Hashira an opportunity to hurt them. You’ve lost count how many times a colleague has shown up at your door, and how simply slammed the door in their face.

You weren’t in the mood to hear their excuses then, and still aren’t.

Tanjiro was quick to warm up to you, profusely thanking you for all you’ve done even when you really didn’t do anything. If he and Nezuko were home from a mission, they’d welcome you back with light hugs and a warm meal. You made sure to make extra portions when you were alone, in case they didn’t come back until late at night, or tried to, depending on the crow’s swiftness with a message from the Kamado siblings. Against your better judgment, they became precious to you. You would show no mercy to anyone who would harm them, demon or Demon Slayers.

But that was enough reminiscing. You, Tanjiro, and Nexuko were being sent to investigate a few territories where demons are reported to have been spotted and causing chaos. No one has been killed, though several civilians were injured, two are currently in critical condition at the Butterfly Mansion.

You almost felt sorry for Kocho. Almost.

Leonidas had not been happy lately. Greeks in his domain were being picked off left and right and no one could tell what was going on, except movement from their corner of their eye and that is all the information his men had been able to collect. Damn it all, what else could he do? What would Gorgo do? His heart twisted painfully at the thought of his wife. Because she had not been a warrior, she was not welcomed into Valhalla by side, instead residing in Elysium with other souls. It’d been so long since their separation and he never took another woman to his bed, putting that energy into training his men to be prepared for anything…until now.

When another night-time report came in of yet another incident, Leonidas and his men immediately left camp to investigate. What he and his soldiers hadn’t expected, though, was to stumble upon three scrawny men gorging themselves on lifeless civilians, their hands and everywhere from the waist down covered in blood.

Leonidas led the charge, swinging his shield and sword but the maggots barely flinched when they touched them. No….when the criminals turned to them with annoyed frowns, the Spartans saw rows of glistening white fangs and slitted amber irises.

These weren’t men. They were monsters who were evenly matched with his men, both in agility and physical strength. All seemed lost until a woman, a boy, and a girl jumped into the fray.

The smaller ones went against two of them while their de facto leader swiftly decapitated the other monster once she had gotten close enough to strike. She was calm, too calm for someone who faced a monster and cleavage spilling out of her…uniform. Or she didn’t give a shit about modesty in a life-or-death situation as she darted towards the others, providing the boy with enough cover to swing his sword across the monster’s neck while the girl held its accomplice by the throat and burned him.

Yes, she fucking set the bastard on fire.

When the monsters disintegrated into ashes, Leonidas all but demanded who the hell they were and what are those things they just killed. The younger ones were startled by his command, but the woman simply blinked owlishly at him, as if she had been asked this question a dozen times.

“That was…a demon.”

“A demon?” Leonidas snarled.

“Yes, that was a demon. It feasts on human flesh and cannot be killed unless it is exposed to sunlight.” She said, sheathing the iridescent blue blade in her hand back into the scabbard hanging from her hip. “We are able to kill them because it is our duty as Demon Slayers.”

….If shit-head gods existed, then he supposed it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for the idea that demons did exist. But Leonidas did not survive wars on sheer strength or the number of armies under his commands or ‘blessings’ from the gods alone. He was a strategist.

And he did not stop pestering the woman, who only introduced herself as the Water Hashira, until he’d squeezed every bit of information she knew about demons and the sword used to kill them.

But she did not give in to his demands, and would not compromise the organization by telling him about their supplier. There was too much at stake....unless he was willingly to speak to her commander. She cannot guarantee if he will answer him or not, though…it seems he has many people to protect as well.

Leonidas didn’t like it, but if this woman is willingly to arrange a meeting with a complete stranger like himself, he could not allow this opportunity to slip past him. He agreed to the conditions, and watched her and the other Demon Slayers leave, fussing over each like a group of misfit siblings rather than comrades on the battlefield.

The Water Hashira came to personally escort him to Lord Ubuyashiki’s estate a week later. Kneeling outside on the grass near the veranda were the other high-ranking Demon Slayers, the Hashiras. When they stood in front of them, she too kneeled, her head down. Glancing over his shoulder, Leonidas could see the pissed off expressions on everyone’s faces. Suppose in their eyes, the Water Hashira had brought in an outsider to their organization and became the mediator of a meeting that should never have happened.

If Lord Ubuyashiki hadn’t agreed to this, the Water Hashira’s actions might have been considered treason, and she’d be stripped of her rank plus any land she owned. But she was calm, not flinching or back talking to the other soldiers until one of them, a white-haired little prick with scars on his face made a snide comment about ‘being brainwashed by a brat and his demon sister’.

“...Choose your next words carefully, Sanemi, or there won’t be another Wind Hashira among the ranks.”

“Is that a fucking threat, Tomioka?!”

“It will be if you or the others make another attempt to hurt Tanjiro and Nezuko Kamado in my absence.” She said icily. “They are under my care and no harm will befall on them unless Nezuko succumbs to bloodlust. How can we call ourselves the pillars of this organization if we cannot trust them?”

“And how hasn’t your ass been killed yet with that thick head of yours?!” Sanemi barked. “God, you’re always like this, just doing whatever you want -”

“Oi, shithead.” The Spartan turned towards the Wind Hashira. “This woman is the reason my men are still alive. You’ll soon be in the presence of your commanding officer, so heel.”

“THE FUCK YOU JUST SAID, GEEZER?!”

“I said heel, you fucking mongrel.” Lenoidas’ eyes flashed dangerously, his temper about to boil over. “If that’s too hard to understand, shut up. And no talkin’ to a woman like that, got it? Gods, kids these days.”

“You son of -!”

“Sanemi, that is enough.” Tomioka said. “Be silent.”

“[First Name] -”

“Quiet, Kocho. Whatever grievances you have, I will gladly listen to them another time.” As soon as the Water Hashira hissed out those words, Lord Ubuyashiki appeared alongside his children and wife. When the Hashiras tried to voice their complaints in his presence, the scarred man all but silenced them with a finger pressed against his mouth. He then turned to him, apologizing for his children’s behavior and asked him to come inside to talk.

The hours went by quickly, and Leonidas got the answers he wanted. Tomioka, the Water Hashira, whatever her name really was, had been assigned to escort him back to his domain.

“Thank you…for defending me.” She murmured, her eyes looking straight head and face flushed a light shade of pink. “No one…has ever done that for me since I became a Hashira. They…do not like me. And I am…not like them.”

Lenoidas raised an eyebrow. “Anyone in their right mind would defend a hell of a woman like yourself. Honorable, strong, and it’s pretty damned obvious that you love those kids in your unit as if they were your own children. In Sparta, there would be men lined up outside your home asking for a chance to court you with the intention of marriage. Hell, even I would have a hard time fending them all off.”

When he saw the surprised look on her face, Leonidas gritted his teeth. It was obvious to him that her comrades did not think highly of her, and with her current mindset it had no positive impact on her self-esteem.

Looks like they were just fellow Hashira, and nothing more. Assholes. He thought before he sighed, patting her affectionately on the head. “Wanna get a drink with me before we start heading back?” He asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

[First Name] agreed, and she followed him to a local pub. The Water Hashira hadn’t realized what he did was a pick-up line until he was on his fifth drink, and she was on her third. He didn’t expect her tolerance to be this high for a strong liquor.

“You know this is a date right?”

Her comical reaction to his words made him roar with laughter; [Eye Color] orbs wide, face bright red, and her mouth formed into the shape of an ‘x’ with her drink still in her hand. He grinned at her from the rim of his glass.

Shit, she’s adorable!

Bonus Content:

The Spartans came to enjoy Tanjiro and Nezuko’s company over time, as well as their help in training them. While Tanjiro worked with the men to increase his physical strength and practice his swordsmanship, Nezuko would shrink down to her smallest size and play a nightly game of ‘tag’ with them to help the soldiers’ agility. Piggyback rides were her reward if she won.

Buddha is someone who would rather take care of the demons who were bold enough to try and lay a hand on the humans who followed him. He is the enlightened one, and someone you really shouldn’t mess with.

So imagine his surprise when the little bastards were actually able to keep up with his and his attacks, and without breaking a sweat. He had been minding his own business on a dreary summer morning, relaxing under a bodhi tree when one of the worshippers darted towards him, pleading for help and covered in blood that wasn’t his own. Naturally, he stood up and reassured the sobbing mortal that everything would be fine.

Now, he was using the Six Realms staff and his eyes to parry and attack his opponents, yet these guys still kept getting up from the ground, snarling and glaring at him with bloodthirsty eyes. Huh…how long has it been since he had an opponent, no, opponents like this? Kintoki is probably the only other god he’d be more than happy to trade friendly blows, well, actually, the only one because he hated the other gods.

He was about to activate the Animal Realm: Club of Nirvana and stroke the demon in front of him when all of a sudden, a tiny girl dressed in a pink kimono with a bamboo stalk in her mouth struck the demon down with a single kick, decapitating him swiftly.

The demon’s body collapsed onto the earth, twitching rapidly before clumps of flesh began to sprout from the neck, an enraged face beginning to morph until she stomped on it, her leg glowing a bright vermillion as the regenerating demon howled, flopping and twisting in a vain attempt to get free. In seconds, all that remained was a heap of dark ashes. The girl then looked up at him. Blinking her large pink eyes as if she didn’t do anything special.

Buddha was about to ask the kid who she was when an ear-splitting shriek stopped him. The future flashed in front of him in an instant, and he acted quickly, switching from the Animal Realm to Asura Realm: Shield of Ahimsa to defect crescent-shaped sickles aimed at them. Naturally, the shield didn’t get a scratch and he and the little lady were all right.

“Get down!”

The enlightened one did not need to be told twice, ducking his head as a wild-haired boy in a green checkered haori exhale wisps of bright red-orangish flames before he swung his sword, slicing the demon’s neck and effectively removing its head from the main body. As the demon disintegrated into the same ashy remains as the other one, the boy turned around and looked at him worriedly.

“Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Buddha just blinked. “No?” He said. The enlightened one watched the kid’s shoulders sag in relief before he smiled at him, the little lady running towards the boy and hugged him tightly. Ah….brother and sister maybe?

“Nezuko, did you get the demon that was trying to run away?”

Buddha looked over his shoulder, seeing a young woman decked out in a black uniform with gold buttons and a mismatched haori approached them, calm and expressionless. The little one - Nezuko, Buddha presumed, nodded happily with tiny flowers floating over her head. The boy beamed.

“She did, and she’s gotten much better at controlling her Blood Demon Art, Tomioka-san!”

The young woman nodded. “Indeed. Tanjiro, when we return home, we’re going to work more on your Breathing techniques and footwork. You’re still moving based on instinct and waiting until your opponent strikes to make a move. I will not always be here to protect you.” She then looked at him, [Eye Color] irises calm as a lake with the slightest hint of curiosity. “Oh. You’re a god?”

Buddha met her gaze, his teeth clamping down on the lollipop in his mouth that he had forgotten was there the whole time until now. “So what if I am? Got a problem, little lady?”

Tomioka furrowed her brow, head tilting to the side and arms crossed. “Why would I be troubled by someone I just met? As far as I am concerned…you’re not an enemy.” Her voice was cold and detached as she spoke, her stoic expression unchanging even the boy, Tanjiro, glared at him with puffed up cheeks that reminded the enlightened one of a chipmunk. The little one, Nezuko, actually jumped up and grabbed one of his arms, swinging from it with a closed-eyed smile.

What could he say? The kids loved him, and his candy.

He pulled out a cola-flavored lollipop from his robes, handing it to her. Buddha watched Nezuko’s eyes brighten in joy and wonder as she extended an arm toward him, carefully cradling the lollipop in her open palm as if it were a lotus flower. She then hopped down, landing on her feet before running to Tanjiro, making happy, approved noises that were muffled by the bamboo piece in her mouth. Tanjiro chuckled, patting her head as he could see now that this god wasn’t a big bully.

For a split second, the enlightened one saw the barest hint of a smile on the woman’s face before it was wiped away by horror…because the gray clouds in the sky were going away?

Tomioka quickly removed her haori, shielding Nezuko from the sunlight piercing through the clouds and Tanjiro removed a large wooden box from his shoulders, urging Nezuko to get inside as soon as the door opened. Buddha watched in fascination as Nezuko shrunk to the size of a toddler and blitzed inside. Tanjiro locked it up before he shared a relieved look with his teacher.

Buddha felt his lollipop between his lips nearly fall as he saw the flash of Tomioka’s thigh in her uniform, similar to what Tanjiro was wearing, but more form-fitting, showing off the very alluring body that she had been hiding under her haori. He did nothing to correct his gaze as he stared shamelessly at her.

Tanjiro sighed. “Thank you, Tomioka-san. Nezuko and I are both grateful that you’re looking out for us.”

She took her haori back, a small smile stretching across her lips before she stretched a hand and gently rubbed the top of his head just as he had done with his little sister earlier. She then turned her gaze to Buddha, causing the enlightened one to flinch slightly, though not before his own eyes lingered on her chest, her folded arms pushing them up just enough to tease him.

She did not even seem to realize just how sexy she was when she spoke to him. “May I ask you some questions about the demon?”

He grinned, flashing a toothy grin at her. “Anything for the pretty lady~!”

She nodded, not reacting to the slightest at his subtle flirting. “Thank you for your cooperation with us.”

Buddha’s eyelid twitched before he glanced over at Tanjiro, who just shook his head with an exasperated smile. That was when the enlightened one realized, that the Water Hashira he’d come to know as [First Name] Tomioka, was dense as a brick wall.

Taglist:

@myrisan-melodies

@praisethesuuun

@rukia-writes

#an idyllic novelist #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #ror x reader #snv x reader #snv #fem reader #snv buddha #snv leonidas #ror x you #ror leonidas #giyuu!reader

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 9 months

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He can't be FR 😭😭

NOPE. NO. Nu-Uh. No no no no.

Nonono. No No No. Nopedy nope.

No. No no no no no no. NOPE.

NOPE.

(Edit : The account is most likely fake, since apparently both Sam and Elliot don't have TT account. The bts videos was also in Elliot's IG so let's take it with grain of salt)

Okay look. As much as I want the boys and girls to be happy and thrive and live on, I want something BAD to happen to them. Hear me out.

OG!Makarov (for those who don't know...) was such a destructive force. He single-handedly started World War 3, nuked cities, took down NATIONS. He was the literal ultimate enemy.

For the last two games, Barkov was not the best villain (yes he invaded Urzikstan but he only appeared in very few scenes), while in MWII we literally only chase Hassan around, like Valeria and Graves were a better villain (they were not the supposedly main villain).

MWII lacked the grit and guts that the OG!MW had. OG!MW did NOT hesitate on taking down cities, nations, and most importantly they DID NOT hesitate to KILL OFF characters or at least let something BAD happen to the characters. Like for instance, in the end of OG!MW2, Soap fucking got STABBED IN THE CHEST by Shepherd. NOW THAT IS THE SHIT.

(+ there are dramatic quick time events. BRING BACK QUICK TIME EVENTS)

Again, for those who don't know, OG!MW3 ended with ALL of 141 dying except Price. Yes you read that right.

Now, what I would want to see is for the reboot!Makarov be the destructive force that he is. Take down cities, nations. Kill people without remorse. SHOW US that he is indeed the ultimate enemy. How?

Let bad things happen to the boys. Let 141 FAIL. Not the "oh we fail, try next time." But the "people-fuxking- died-critical-consequences-perilous-dreadful-we FUCKED UP" Failure. The failure where you can't go back. The failure that has timely consequences. Where it's irrevirsable.

Let them fail, and then let us see how they cope with failure. Let us see how they come back together. Let us see a development on the characters on how they should face this archenemy.

Who do I think would die?

I have one person on my mind.

Kate Laswell.

Imagine 141 without Laswell's voice to guide them. Imagine a mission without Laswell's voice of reason. Voice of security that everything will be fine.

Imagine Price losing Laswell.

Now that is a version of Price that I would want to see.

This campaign will be interesting...

#RESPECTFULLY. VERY RESPECTUFULLY. WITH THE UTMOST LOVE I HAVE FOR YOU #SHADDAP ELLIOT #BE QUIET MR KNIGHT #WHAT ABOUT THE NDA. MR KNIGHT???#WHAT ABOUT THE NDA #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare III #call of duty modern warfare 2023

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hdra77 · 23 days

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rough slugcat designs for my critical system failure/disarray au!! + some bonus sketches because why not these arent all of them btw!! so stay tuned for the rest of their designs! ok so here are some short explanation for their roles in this au gourmand here as you can see is called chieftain. no he didn't go through an artificer arc nor does he have anything to do with her slugpup's death but he became the leader to his own colony which consists of both scavengers and slugcats. and they so happened to migrate and live at five pebbles' metropolis for a while!! (for a..long time) ofcourse five pebbles did not like that especially that they're pretty much trespassing since the gate to metropolis had always been heavily damaged and permanently open so it lets anyone come and go as they please now hunter! only simple explanation for this is that she was sent by NSH to investigate pebbles' state since his sudden disappearance and lack of activity. she doesn't have the rot when she was sent for her mission and shes got this device around her that helps her scan any evidence and clues to piece the puzzle together artificer is uh a killing machine, thats all

#rain world #rainworld au #rw gourmand #rain world fanart #rain world slugcat #slugcat #rw artificer #rw hunter #rw disarray au #rw au

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pharawee · 9 months

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#laws of attraction #laws of attraction the series #jamfilm #jam rachata #film thanapat #lawsofattractionedit #thai bl #thai drama #bl drama #bl series #my edits.#no subs we gif like europeans #that other dude experienced the smoothest critical mission failure that ever existed #he should be grateful #what even is my colouring today

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singingcicadas · 2 months

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Rodimus and making Necessary Sacrifices

The most famous one: blowing up Nyon

Btw Megatron could totally have saved the people in Nyon if he wanted to; he knew about Zeta's plan beforehand. All he needed to do was give Hot Rod and the citizens an evacuation alert. But he didn't because he wanted to give Optimus a good emotional impact with all the deaths and who cares about the common lowlife anyway, all they're good for is getting bodily thrown at Zeta until his weapon overloads from draining too many people.

Kimia station in Chaos Theory:

Red text bubble is Optimus. He doesn't wait for Optimus to agree before directly giving Omega Supreme orders to shoot Kimia down.

Reaction after confirming that Doubledealer is a traitor:

Using Rung as bait for the sparkeater:

The last two panels also gives us something on how he views (his own) authority. Because while he's always held a position of authority in high command, the high command is still a council. On the ship his authority is absolute.

The next three scenarios form a pattern. It always starts with Rodimus telling someone to kill a comrade, the person tasked with the killing goes 'what I don't want to do that', and Rodimus tones down the order from death to wound.

Ordering Rewind and Swerve to shoot at Fort Max:

Ordering Swerve to hurt Ore:

Ordering Cyclonus to shoot Brainstorm:

Each of these scenarios is in response to a critical situation. Rodimus' first orders of 'aim to kill' are, while extreme, not disproportionate to the level of threat presented. They're within reason and authority. And ceding from kill to wound when protested is proof that he doesn't not care. But it also shows that his first instinctual reaction towards threats is to kill first ask questions later, even if the threat used to be his friend, comrade, or compatriot, he's able to weigh the lives on a scale and make that hard decision. He's also the type of person who's very comfortable with taking the fates other people into his own hands and deciding whether they should live or die (which is why him choosing to spare Getaway after retaking the Lost Light is a sign of character growth).

His characterization is fairly consistent throughout the comics, except for this:

Everything in Spotlight Hot Rod goes against his later presentations. In his spotlight he's said to repeatedly beat himself up over one failed mission and is averse to taking responsibility towards other people for fear that he'd get them killed but in later issues he has No Problems doing exactly that. He displays no preferences for 'going solo' aside from the mission to retrieve the matrix and that's because everyone else kicked him out. When he wanted to leave on the Lost Light he made speeches to convince other people to join him despite the fact the Autobots were already outnumbered on Cybertron and taking people away would make their situation worse. Whenever he went anywhere in mtmte he assembled a team to accompany him.

This scene especially contradicts Spotlight Hot Rod in every single way. The only consistent aspect of his character is the recklessness. He forces Optimus to authorize a rescue mission, of which he declares himself the team leader, ignores Optimus' caution about keeping it clandestine and tells everyone to barge through the front door, shuts Ironhide's objections down by pulling rank, then falls into a trap and gets Ironhide killed. Mission failed too obviously, they only got Prowl out. Optimus takes responsibility for the failure and surrenders to the humans, of which Rodimus' response is: "he freaked out because he couldn't hack it" and promptly also proceeds to drop everything and leave because yay there's no one to keep me on this stupid planet anymore and whoever wants to can come with. Where. is the guilt.

That and the whole fiasco with Swindle and Menasor were probably Rodimus' worst moments lol. Overall he's the type of leader good with stressful trolley problems but bad at considering the larger or long-term implications of his actions. His flippancy towards life and death and tendency to solve problems with the bluntest approach bleeds heavily into his leadership decisions and... just how his character is in general. Thank goodness there's only one of Drift and he's gone for most of the Lost Light voyage, Rodimus really doesn't work well with too many yes-men hanging around.

#I don't like Spotlight: Hot Rod either it's too over the top #this is just rambling it doesnt even have a main point #going through the screenshots I have saved up so I can delete them from my computer #idw transformers #transformers #maccadam #mtmte #rodimus #hot rod

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horeformilfs · 4 months

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Save me

WandaNat x Fem!Avenger Reader

TW: Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Drowning

Translations:

любимая = Beloved

Дорогой = Darling

Моя любовь = My Love

мой ангел = My Angel

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

The quinjet rumbled as it soared through the evening sky, the aftermath of a mission lingering heavily in the air. Y/N sat in silence, staring out of the window, her thoughts drowning in a tempest of self-doubt and frustration. Despite the mission's success, Steve's reproach echoed in her mind, each word carving deeper into the wounds they'd been hiding.

Wanda Maximoff, sensing the heaviness in the air, slid closer to Y/N, intertwining their fingers. "Hey," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. "You know Steve can be harsh sometimes. Don't let it get to you."

Y/N managed a faint smile, appreciating Wanda's attempt to console her, but the darkness within remained unspoken. Natasha Romanoff, seated across from the two, shot a concerned glance her way. Y/N averted her gaze, unwilling to let anyone see the turmoil within.

As the jet continued its journey back to the compound, Steve, unable to let the matter rest, confronted Y/N again. "This is a team, Y/N! We depend on each other. You can't afford to make reckless decisions like that."

Natasha, always protective, stepped in, "Steve, ease up. We all made it out fine."

Ignoring Natasha's plea, Steve continued his admonishment. Y/N, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders, fought to hold back tears. Wanda squeezed her hand, offering silent support, but Y/N abruptly withdrew.

Natasha, observing the sudden change, leaned toward Wanda and asked in a hushed tone, "Is Y/N okay?"

Wanda shook her head subtly, her concern mirroring Natasha's. She glanced at Y/N, who had moved to a different part of the quinjet, staring into the distance. Natasha excused herself and approached Y/N cautiously.

"Hey," Natasha said softly, concern etched in her eyes. "You can't keep everything bottled up. What's going on?"

Y/N hesitated, the weight of her unspoken struggles threatening to spill over. "It's nothing, Nat. Just tired."

Natasha saw through the facade, but before she could press further, Wanda joined them. "Everything alright?" she asked, her eyes flickering between Y/N and Natasha.

Y/N forced a smile, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, just tired."

Wanda, sensing the evasion, decided not to push, but the worry lingered in her gaze. As the quinjet descended towards the Avengers' compound, the unspoken tension within the team remained, a storm waiting to be weathered.

The compound's landing pad greeted the quinjet with a soft hum as it touched down. Y/N, still grappling with the emotional fallout of the mission and Steve's stern words, stepped off the aircraft, leaving the conversation suspended in the air.

Nick Fury, a stern expression etched on his face, awaited Y/N. "Agent Y/L/N, my office. Now."

Y/N exchanged a quick, worried glance with Nat and Wanda before nodding and following Fury. The redheads shared an anxious look, their concern growing as Y/N disappeared from view.

In Fury's office, the atmosphere was heavy with tension. Nick wasted no time in listing every perceived mistake during the mission. Y/N listened in silence, internalizing the criticism, each word adding another layer to the self-doubt she was trying so desperately to conceal. When the reprimand concluded, Fury dismissed Y/N with a curt nod, leaving her alone to grapple with the weight of her perceived failures.

Returning to her shared room, Y/N found Nat and Wanda sitting on the bed, a palpable worry etched across their faces. Without a word, Y/N moved towards the bathroom, needing a moment to collect herself.

Natasha, her gaze following Y/N, sighed, "дорогой, what's going on? You're not fine."

Wanda, leaning against Natasha, added, "Моя любовь, we can see something's bothering you. Talk to us."

Y/N emerged from the bathroom, the facade still intact. "It's nothing, really. Just a rough day."

Natasha frowned, concern deepening. "Don't shut us out, дорогой. We're here for you."

Wanda nodded, her eyes pleading. "Моя любовь, we care about you. Whatever it is, we can face it together."

Y/N hesitated, the weight of her struggles conflicting with the desire to protect the ones she cared about. "It's just... a lot. I'll be okay, I promise."

Natasha and Wanda exchanged glances, unconvinced but respecting Y/N's choice for now. Y/N offered a weak smile, attempting to reassure them. "I just need some time to clear my head. Thanks for understanding."

The aroma of pizza wafted through the Avengers' common room, where the team had gathered for their weekly pizza and game night. Natasha and Wanda, dressed casually for the occasion, approached Y/N, who seemed lost in thought.

"Hey, Y/N, pizza's here. Game night's starting soon. You coming?" Natasha asked with a playful smile.

Y/N looked up, weariness evident in her eyes. "Nah, I think I'll pass tonight. Just really tired and could use some sleep."

Wanda exchanged a concerned glance with Natasha, but they respected Y/N's decision. "Alright, if you need anything, we'll be downstairs. Take care," Wanda said, leaning in to kiss Y/N gently on the cheek. Natasha followed suit, leaving a lingering kiss on Y/N's forehead.

As the hour passed, laughter and the clatter of board game pieces echoed from below. Y/N, lying in bed, couldn't shake the sense of isolation that gripped her. Faint strains of joy reached her ears, intensifying the ache of loneliness within.

Unable to resist the curiosity, Y/N decided to check on the festivities. Slipping out of bed, she quietly descended the stairs and peeked around the corner. The sight of the team sharing laughter and camaraderie only deepened Y/N's sense of alienation.

A heavy sigh escaped Y/N as she turned to leave, footsteps echoing her retreat. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Natasha noticed their departure, nudging Wanda to glance in the direction of Y/N's retreating figure.

"Something's not right," Natasha murmured, concern etching her features.

Wanda nodded, her eyes following Y/N. "Let's check on her."

The two redheads hurriedly excused themselves, making their way to catch up with Y/N. However, by the time they reached the compound's entrance, Y/N was nowhere in sight.

"Y/N!" Wanda called out, but the night swallowed their words.

Natasha scanned the surroundings, worry etched on her face. "She couldn't have gone far. Let's split up and find her."

Unbeknownst to Natasha and Wanda, Y/N, grappling with a storm of emotions, had ventured into the quiet darkness outside the compound, feeling like a solitary star in a vast, lonely sky.

The night enveloped the compound in a somber embrace as Y/N walked the familiar trail to the lake. The water, usually a source of solace, reflected the moon's gentle glow. Y/N's footsteps echoed in the quiet, each step heavy with the burden she carried.

As Y/N reached the lake, dark thoughts clawed at the edges of her mind, whispering lies of inadequacy and isolation. The water's surface mirrored the turmoil within, rippling with each conflicting emotion.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Wanda, attuned to the depths of her thoughts, felt a sudden jolt of concern. She sought out Natasha, urgency etched in her expression. "Nat, something's wrong with Y/N. I can hear her thoughts, and it's not good."

Natasha, instantly alert, nodded. "Let's find her. Fast."

Together, they traversed the compound, their search fueled by a shared determination to reach Y/N before it was too late.

Meanwhile, Y/N, standing at the water's edge, contemplated the dark abyss within and beyond. The weight of her struggles pushed her toward a perilous decision. In the solitude of the night, the lake seemed to beckon, offering an escape from the storm within.

Wanda and Natasha, guided by an unsettling intuition, pressed on. Natasha's voice broke the silence as they moved with purpose. "We have to find Y/N before..."

Wanda finished the thought, her worry evident. "Before it's too late."

As Y/N waded into the water, fully clothed, the coldness biting at her skin, the gravity of her actions began to sink in. Yet, the relentless darkness within urged her forward, drowning out reason and hope.

Wanda's eyes widened as the echoes of Y/N's thoughts intensified. "Nat, we're running out of time."

Natasha quickened her pace, fear gnawing at her. "We have to find her now."

At the water's edge, Y/N ventured further, oblivious to the silent urgency echoing through the night. With each step, the water's embrace grew colder, and the depths seemed to welcome her into a haunting embrace.

The water closed in around Y/N, reaching her neck as fatigue weighed heavily on her limbs. The struggle to stay afloat became a losing battle, and the haunting depths of the lake seemed to embrace her with a chilling finality.

Meanwhile, Natasha and Wanda combed through the woods, searching for any sign of Y/N. Wanda's eyes widened in realization. "I remember. There's a lake Y/N used to go to when things got tough. She has to be there."

Natasha, fueled by a surge of concern, urged Wanda to lead the way. "Let's go. We need to find her."

In the dark waters, Y/N's final reserves of strength gave out. She surrendered to the depths, letting the cold water seep into her lungs. Consciousness waned, and the world faded to a surreal blur.

As Natasha and Wanda reached the lake, the sight of Y/N's abandoned shoes on the edge sent shivers down their spines. Wanda's eyes scanned the water's surface, catching a subtle disruption near the middle of the lake.

"There," she pointed to Natasha, urgency in her voice. Without hesitation, both women plunged into the water, swimming with determined strokes toward the disturbance in the otherwise tranquil lake.

Natasha's voice broke the silence, her concern palpable. "Y/N!"

Wanda echoed the call, her desperation fuelling her movements. "Y/N, where are you?"

The moonlight danced on the water's surface as they searched, driven by the fear of losing their girlfriend. The lake, once a haven for Y/N, now held a silent secret beneath its depths, as Natasha and Wanda raced against time to bring Y/N back from the edge.

Wanda dove beneath the surface, the cold water enveloping her as she searched for any sign of Y/N. Her senses heightened, she felt a faint brush against her, and her heart leaped. She moved swiftly, hand extended, until her fingers closed around something solid. As she pulled it towards her, relief surged through her when she realized it was Y/N's hand.

Breaking through the surface, Wanda clutched Y/N to her chest. Natasha, seeing the distress on Wanda's face, swam over to assist. Wanda struggled to keep Y/N afloat, her arms wrapped protectively around the younger woman.

Natasha's expression mirrored the urgency of the situation. "Wanda, fly Y/N back to the shore. Start CPR. I'll swim back and meet you there."

Wanda nodded, determination in her eyes. With a burst of energy, she levitated herself and Y/N out of the water, flying towards the shore as fast as she could. Natasha propelled herself through the water, a powerful swimmer on a mission.

As Wanda landed on the shore, she cradled Y/N in her arms, laying her gently on the ground. Panic and relief mingled in her eyes as she started CPR, each compression accompanied by whispered words of encouragement.

Natasha emerged from the water, swiftly joining Wanda. " I'll take over."

Wanda, tears streaming down her face, nodded and stepped back. Natasha seamlessly continued the lifesaving efforts, the rhythmic compressions and breaths punctuating the tense silence. The fate of their girlfriend hung in the balance, and as Natasha worked to revive Y/N, the night seemed to hold its breath.

Natasha continued the lifesaving measures, the rhythm of compressions and breaths a desperate cadence against the quiet backdrop of the night. Wanda, her voice steady despite the urgency, dialed Bruce Banner, urgency lacing her words. "Banner, we need the med bay ready. It's Y/N. Hurry."

Y/N, caught between the realms of consciousness and oblivion, finally expelled water from her lungs. Wanda and Natasha, relief etched on their faces, surrounded her, coaxing her back to the present.

Natasha whispered, her voice a gentle reassurance, "Дорогой, stay with us. You're gonna be okay."

Y/N, seeking solace in the familiar, inched closer to Wanda, the redhead's presence a comforting anchor. Wanda, her arms encircling Y/N, whispered sweet nothings, her words a balm to the turmoil within. "Моя любовь, you're safe now. We've got you."

As Wanda lifted Y/N into her arms, carrying her like a precious burden, Natasha draped her jacket over Y/N's shivering form. They embarked on the hurried journey back to the compound, the weight of Y/N's quiet apologies hanging in the air.

Y/N, struggling to stay awake, murmured softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Wanda tightened her hold, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead. "Shh, любимая, it's okay. We're here for you."

Natasha added, her voice firm yet soothing, "No apologies, мой ангел. We've got you, and we're going to take care of you."

The night held their collective breath as they rushed towards the compound, the echoes of the lake's silent secret gradually giving way to a glimmer of hope.

Upon reaching the compound, Natasha and Wanda hurriedly carried Y/N to the med bay, where Bruce Banner awaited their arrival. The atmosphere in the room shifted, tense yet focused, as the two redheads gently laid Y/N on the examination table.

Bruce, his usual calm demeanor replaced by concern, immediately started assessing Y/N's condition. "What happened?"

Wanda, her voice trembling slightly, explained, "Y/N went to the lake, and we found her in the water. We need to make sure she's okay."

Bruce nodded, directing the medical team to assist. "I'll take it from here. Give us some space, but stay close. We might need you."

Natasha and Wanda exchanged a worried glance before reluctantly stepping back, their eyes never leaving Y/N's unconscious form. As the medical team worked, the room buzzed with tension, each passing moment intensifying the weight of the night's events.

Wanda's fingers interlaced with Natasha's, the silent communication between them reflecting shared concern. Natasha pulled Wanda into a reassuring hug, their unspoken support a lifeline amidst the uncertainty.

After what felt like an eternity, Bruce finally turned towards them. "Y/N will be okay. She expelled most of the water, but we'll keep Her under observation for a while. She need rest."

Relief washed over Natasha and Wanda, the gravity of the situation slowly lifting. They entered the recovery room where Y/N lay, pale yet breathing steadily. Wanda took a seat by Y/N's side, and Natasha joined her, the unspoken bond between them palpable.

As Y/N began to stir, Natasha brushed a strand of hair from her face, whispering, "Hey there, мой ангел. You gave us a scare."

Y/N's eyes met Wanda's, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. "I'm sorry," she whispered, the weight of her earlier apologies lingering.

Wanda leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead. "No need for apologies, любимая. We're just glad you're back with us."

Natasha and Wanda sat on either side of the bed, their eyes filled with concern and love as Y/N recounted the harrowing events at the lake.

Wanda spoke first, her voice soft yet firm, "Y/N, we care about you. You're not a burden, and your problems are never 'stupid.' We're your girlfriends, and we want to be there for you, no matter what."

Natasha added, her gaze steady, "You don't have to face everything alone. We're a team, remember? Lean on us when you need to."

Y/N looked down, her fingers nervously playing with the sheets. "I just didn't want to bother you. It felt like I was drowning in my own thoughts, and I didn't want to drag you down with me."

Wanda reached for Y/N's hand, squeezing it gently. "Your thoughts and feelings matter to us. You're not a burden, and we want to help carry the weight together."

Y/N nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "I understand. Thank you both."

Natasha, always pragmatic, stood up. "Alright, enough serious talk for now. I'm going to get us some coffee and soup. You two stay put."

As Natasha left the room, Wanda shifted to lie next to Y/N. She tenderly ran her fingers through Y/N's hair, placing soft kisses on their forehead. "You're safe now, любимая. We're here for you, always."

Y/N let out a sigh, leaning into Wanda's touch. "Can... can you cuddle with me?"

Wanda smiled, her eyes full of warmth. "Of course, моя любовь."

Natasha returned with a tray, placing it on a nearby table. "Coffee for us, soup for you. Eat something, alright?"

Y/N nodded, and as Wanda curled up with them on the bed, Natasha took a seat nearby. The room was filled with the soothing aroma of coffee, the gentle murmur of their voices, and the unspoken assurance that, in each other's company, they could weather any storm.

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moonriseoverkyoto · 5 months

Text

Whistle while you work

Synopsis - sometimes all a little lass needs is to just holler the lyrics of an angry female-empowering country music, but a certain beloved Scot just can’t help but be worried he screwed up

cw: swearing, medical and military workplace inaccuracies, playful language, suggestive content, heavy flirting, slight miscommunication trope(this hurts me more than this hurts you believe me), nicknames, use of Scottish and southern(Georgia/texas) accent that some readers may find corny or displeasurable

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x southern!medic!reader

Author’s note: I know I said I was busy but I heard “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood come on the radio and it’s been an ear worm that sticking to my brain like flies on a horse. But once again I’m here to remind you that I’m taking southern notes from Georgia and Texas because I was raised in one and I visit family quite often in the other. I am completely open to constructive criticism but if you have nothing nice to say then you just scroll past it costs you absolutely nothing to mind your business. Italicized is singing btw.

©️moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

Soap had begun to have a routine with you. He could often come visit you after shift hours or you would come along on missions and be his first pit stop at base. It was a beautiful little arrangement that the F1F begun to adore. You were the warm fire to warm their cold hearts or the blazing hearth to whip them into shape if they got rowdy. So it was a little jarring to him when he strolled into your clinic and heard an angry drawl.

“Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp. And she’s probably gettin’ frisky.”

Your voice had him weak at the knees but there was something off in your pitch. A grit, an anger, a frustration. He suddenly began retracing his steps, trying to find a failure placed upon his behalf.

“Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'Cause she can't shoot whiskey.”

“Bonnie?” the man called out to you, his reaction was controlled but his heart thumped against his chest trying to break out. When you didn’t respond he decided to stay by the doors out of your vision to figure out what was the issue, studying you.

“Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick. Showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know”

Your hips began to sway against the rising tune and even in your scrubs, there was a clear muscle memory when it came to the rhythm of the song. Soap quickly exited and left to go to the common room to find the rest of the F1F playing poker

“There’s loverboy, we were wondering how long it would take for you and-“

“Firstly, she’s my friend Capt’n you know that. Secondly, Somethin’s a mattah with Bonnie.” Soap cut Price off quickly not caring for niceties.

“why because she’s running a little late?” Gaz spoke while checking his turn. It was comical how they knew you by your nicknames from Soap rather than your god given name.

“Aye ‘nd she’s singin’ this song of ‘ers and it’s got me all worried. I mean I know that I’ve been a wee bit busy lately but I’ve made sure to make me rounds and when I came to her place she was swinging hips and I ken to know when somethin’s a mattah with me Bonnie-“ Simon’s head turned to his friend with interest as Gaz cut the rambling man short.

“Calm down mate. We cannot understand you when you go back to the ancestral plane with that tongue of yours” Gaz spoke. Price waved him off to let the Scott breathe.

“She’s up tae high doh.” Soap rushed out, his brows knit together trying to piece together what could’ve happened.

“In English, lad” Price spoke up. However somebody came to his rescue.

“The phrase is meant to be used to describe when somebody is pent up, flustered. It’s a Scottish saying.” Ghost answered with a deep baritone. Everyone was surprised but secretly noted the phrase for whenever they had to go solo with the Mohawk man.

“So go talk to her” Price responded to Soap with a look that said he was ordering, then he offered a small gift of liquid courage

Soap refused the drink and made his way back over to the infirmary. His brain scrambling to find an answer.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats”

Your belted notes rung through the doors and hit his ears. He vowed he would find out the issue and fix it just so he wouldn’t have to hear the pain in your voice. He came around the corner as you stood in front of a table, organizing your different surgery and procedural tools. He spotted the AirPod beneath your trucker hat (since wearing a traditional cowboy hat was too distracting in the work place even during the quiet shifts. )

“I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires-“

Soap swallowed all his worry as he grabbed an AirPod out and spoke but you beat him to the punch.

“Who in all of god givens creation just ordered a free fuckin’- Oh sweetheart Johnny it’s you.” Your fire calmed just as quick as it kindled.

“hey lassie I was getting worried about you” Soap said. His heart and maybe something else throbbed at your honey tone. One day he’d finally act upon those feelings but today he needed to worry about something else. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“Are you saying I’m throwin’ a hissy fit?”

“Noo jist haud on there Lassie. I jist was-“

“Heavens to Betsy! You do think I’m havin’ a hissy fit, why you oughta know that I was the best little-“

As you two went on back and forth, the distance between your bodies got smaller and smaller. Two wide eyed grins plastered across your face. He cut you off with a smirk

“Oh I’m sure you were the.. how do you say it again? Oh right” Johnny leaned in closer and his voice dropped, “the best little girl this side of the Mississippi. Ain’t that right, hen?”

“I know damn well you did not just call me a hen from a damn barn house-“ you went to speak again but got cut off as your throat hitched, soap’s mouth just by your ear and his tone got unrealistically deeper and more dominant. A careful hand grazing your hip.

“Shut yer pus for a moment, hen. Tell me what’s a matter. What’s got you so up tae high doh.” The male spoke.

You were silent for once. All the cogs in your brain just stopped. Everything was quiet, if you had perfect hearing you could hear Johnny’s poor heart banging to get out of his chest in anxiety from him boldly caressing your waist.

“Aww come on lassie, need me to buy a wrench for that brain of yours”

“I misplaced my sewing needle. Well I did or one of the stupid nurses did but I can’t find it and I won’t find it till the cows come home” you huffed.

“The one from your nana?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“No need for the ‘tude. May I look?”

“Sure. It’s no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond” you said softly as he gently moved you aside to look at the table below. His trained eye spotting a glint on the ground. He reached over to pick it up and show it to you.

“Bless your heart! Good god Johnny, oh my sweet I could kiss you!” You cried out with the biggest grin. You leaned forward and kissed him softly on his cheek. His stubble gently scratching your soft, plump lips. His cheeks barely flushed as his smirk transformed into a smile and a small chuckle left his throat. He took a moment to memorize the feeling of your lips for later.

If that’s all it took to make his little Bonnie proud. He’d search every haystack for your needle in a heartbeat. You were his everything, he’d wait until the right moment to tell you. Especially when he was pretty sure the rest of the team was right around the corner listening to them. He’ll confront them later, for now he wants to stay in this moment with you. Watching his sweet hen, praising him. Grinning as she danced around with the needle he found, and even maybe hid.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Slang translations

Noo jist haud on - Now just hold on there

Heavens to Betsy - southern expression of surprise

Hen- a woman (Scottish term of endearment)

Bonnie - a beautiful woman, Scottish term of endearment typically paired with Bonnie lass

Lass/Lassie- beautiful woman, term of endearment

Shut yer pus - Scottish way of saying hush up, not literally referring to genitalia

Does a bear shit in the woods - kinda like a sarcastic response of “duh.” Whenever you’re asked a question. Hard concept to explain but I hope it’s not just me who got this from their southern mama

no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond - comparison of size

Author’s note: AAAAAAAA I DID IT. I wrote my first fic. Oh my god. I’m so tired but I hope everyone loves this as much as I did. Please go listen to the song as well. It’s “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood

General Taglist (comment to be added) : @glossythor @banana-beans-police

also thank you for the support for the series: @fruitsa1ad

Banner credit: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#soap call of duty #call of duty requests #call of duty #soap mctavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #cod x southern!reader #x southern!medic!reader #john price #simon riley #gaz call of duty #country!medic!reader #john mactavish

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