#like it's SO bleak i do not see anything ever getting better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meiieiri · 2 months

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𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

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f1ghtsoftly · 29 days

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While, I don’t hate the women that express “doomer” ideology, I do think it’s Really Bad for a wide range of reasons. One of the most important of which is the all or nothing type of valuation it places on resistance, we either destroy all patriarchy, or we’re all doomed, and the way it negates our power as living breathing adult women to do anything at all the change our circumstances, because I can’t change all of it-I change nothing instead.

There are thousands of women on this website that are alive right now who want a better world-do you seriously believe none of our efforts, do you believe the efforts of all the women who’ve ever lived amount to nothing just because we haven’t achieved a post-patriarchal society? Think about all the ways women’s resistance, big and small, has nurtured you-even before feminism was a thought in your head. Did that not matter to you? Did it not help protect you? To warn you? To feed your soul? Not enough of course, but all of that effort was enough to make you brave enough to dig for answers, to not immediately give in to all that was expected of you, to find a place here on this website, surely. It did matter, even just hearing or seeing something that made you feel seen for the first time in your life-that does matter.

I think one of patriarchy’s most pernicious effects is the way it corrupts intimacy between women. We are trained to play act images of women that men create through media and social control we end up worrying if we’re successful in our impersonation of this being we call “woman” always trying to be nice enough, tidy enough, small enough etc…and disrupts our images of woman’s actual humanity and personhood. Remember how crazy you felt before you discovered feminism, imagine all the other women and girls who already do and will one day feel like you. You thought no other woman was like you, until one day you went to a secret place, somewhere men didn’t control, and discovered, it wasn’t true.

Women’s ability to resist patriarchy is a gift to us, it lets us know, even hundreds of years into the future, that we have never really been alone. Women who acted out to the point of being disciplined via religious, psychiatric or state institutions. Women who worked in secret as men to be able to write, create, make and live independently. Women who pushed politically for their rights. Even just women who survived and gained power for themselves in environments that were hostile to it. They all gave us a gift and that gift is the knowledge that they were alive, they mattered and they didn’t like it-they weren’t these images of women that men created-they were human, just like us. More than just giving us comfort, these big and small acts of resistance allow us to more fully understand not only the totality of what we’re up against-but also to appreciate the incredible fortitude of women who persisted against incredible odds. They didn’t know what their fates were going to be either and it probably felt as bleak, if not more, than it does right now. We can find women like this in the historical record, even if Big Patriarchy is still around.

It’s true that individually we don’t have a lot of control over the Really Big Historical Picture, but the good news is we don’t have to-we just need to control our slice of it. There are so many women just waiting to find women like us, there are girls growing up who need to see us to know that they’re not alone and that there is a community of women who feel like them and who are worth fighting for. Focus on making yourself visible as a human being to the women around you, on trying to make a mark big enough so that women in the future can find you. We are alive and we matter-and I really think this is enough. It’s a very worthy effort to live by and for other women and usefully it’s also a really critical step in building solidarity, so even if some of us get crazy ideas about doing something to change the Big Historical Picture, they’ll have a much better chance of achieving it.

#watch me write the exact same essay about having daughters ahahaAHAHAHA I hate antinatalism #how is it that my mom almost killed me a million times (exageration)#and Im the one getting weepy eyed about babies and female solidarity #radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist #char on char

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bahrtofane · 3 months

Text

here we go again - pt.3

pt. 1 , pt.2

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again. or will you? can things be forgiven?

Word count - 1.9K +

Watch it - reader so sad but dw bae it gets better ! jude. Just jude. hehehe

—--

Madrid is bleak and bland when you get back, eager to find a routine, to busy yourself with anything, everything.

It's almost like there's a big joke being played on you because you're given Jude to create promotional posters for. It makes you want to cry, but you suck it up, download the pictures and get to work. Even if you have to scribble his face out the whole time.

Avoiding Jude becomes your obsession. You make it your top priority to avoid seeing him in person under any and all costs. You refuse to go anywhere near the stadium, training facilities. Blocking official accounts and avoiding tv when you know they're set to play.

You find jude everywhere. In the cracks of sidewalks where flowers bloom. Inside coffee shops when the smell of vanilla hits your face, under bridges where graffiti of smiley faces litter the concrete.

His presence looms over the city like a specter, mocking your attempts to move on. You long for the day when his memory no longer haunts you, when you can walk through Madrid without feeling his presence at every turn.

Until then, you cling to the hope that time will heal the wounds he left behind, and that one day, you'll be able to reclaim the city as your own. But for now, Madrid remains a bleak and lonely place, haunted by the ghost of a love lost.

—-

Trent calls you about a week after you land, in the middle of your morning routine.

“How are you?”

You stifle a sigh, picking at your nails, “I'm really just peachy Trent,” padding over to your kitchen, opening the fridge.

“You know what I mean.”

You grab what you need, using your hip to close the fridge “I don't know why you keep calling me Trent. I'm fine. Tell jude to fuck off yeah?”

You hear a sigh from the other end, “jude has nothing to do with me checking up on you.”

“Sure.” you hang up. And he doesn’t call again.

—--

The office is always full of energy on match days, and you hate how it's become a tradition to all watch together. Weather in the stands or from the actual office. Your desire to show up in a barca jersey is very very strong.

Today is one day where you walk single file to the stadium and find your seats. Curse working for madrid, it brings you a little too close to the pitch for comfort. You spend half the game on your phone, even when your coworkers gently nudge your shoulder when Jude speeds to the post, you mumble something about work that needs to be done (you're on your settings.)

Jude scores, of course he does. And it's a beautiful goal, straight power, nothing but net. You're up cheering before you can stop yourself, smiling. You're smiling at Jude scoring.

He jogs over to the crowd per usual, caught up in the adrenaline. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to scoring at home. The feeling is unbeatable. His eyes scan the crowd, and they just so happen to land on you.

You're here? The cheers of the crowd fade out, his arms falling to his side, he's staring right at you. He's taken back to the night he left you alone. He’s a fucking idiot. You don't look away, if anything you lean forward in your seat. You're here.

—--

Against better judgment he goes looking for you after the game. Running down hallways still in his kit, looking a mess with grass stuck all over him. At least he managed to kick his cleats off and grab the nearest slides he could find. He's pretty sure these aren't his but he doesn't care. Not right now.

He knows the staff tend to hang around after games, the issue is where.

Curse the never ending construction. The place is a maze, an awful one without, with it feels like he's entering a different dimension at every turn.

He hears laughing and speeds down to find himself in a lounge full of people, all who rush to him to sing praises. He smiles. Trying not to get blinded by flash photography. A voice cuts through the crowd, a soft laugh.

You're here. Oh you're here.

He sees you tuck a piece of paper into a folder, smiling softly, patting the back of what he assumes to be a coworker as you make your way to the exit.

He tries to get past the people who surround him, but you're already gone. He's lost you again, all while you were right in front of him.

He goes home that night unable to sleep, eat, think. He blames himself, of course he does. It's his fault isn't it?

Somewhere during his night routine he thinks that there's an ounce of hope to fix this.

He calls trent.

“I don't know man.” Trent mumbles on the other end.

“I gotta at least try right?”

There's a beat of silence that lasts a moment too long, “if that's what you want.”

Jude thanks him for his time anyway. Tucking himself into bed.

He scrolls through instagram on his burner account, finding your account again. The request button taunts him, but he knows you wont accept. Instead clicking on your profile picture, watching it take up his screen and he sighs. He really has to get his life together doesn't he.

—--

The next time Jude sees you is at an event. Black tie in a nearby hotel. He misses getting ready with you for these, with all your products and accessories lining his sink while he watched you fondly.

“Do I look okay?” you would ask each time, leaning a hand on the sink while the other smoothed down the creases on your dress. Doing a once over in his mirror.

He would hum softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “you look amazing.”

You'd blush, swatting him away playfully. Pressing a kiss to his cheek and promising to see him there.

The same mirror now stares back at him cooly. His sink is empty, as his house is. He misses the smell of your perfume, your clothes that littered his space. He misses how you made it a home.

He sees you there all the same, mingling with your coworkers. You look amazing, that hasn't changed. The dark circles under your eyes have, two purple half moons stamped rather aggressively on your skin. How long has it been since you got proper nights rest jeez.

He makes his rounds to everyone. Brand ambassadors, staff, teammates, a list of high profile people he doesn't care to repeat. He leaves your little corner last on purpose. He doesn't want anything to get in the way.

He slides over to where you hug a glass of water to your chest, nodding along to something a man in a blue suit is saying. Pfft blue what a rookie choice. Jude is in all black, did you notice? It was your favorite on him.

You did notice, and try to suppress the desire to hurl when he walks over to you.

Jude gets to say no more than a sloppy greeting in Spanish before he's grabbed by the arm and taken back to where he thinks the owner of the hotel is standing.

You sigh in relief, and he sighs in frustration.

Fate has driven you apart once more it seems.

—--

Jude is a stubborn stubborn man. You can't seem to outrun him, no matter how many calls and texts you ignore, or block his accounts. Nor how you manage to slip out from right in front of him. Fate is on his side today it seems.

He shows up to your office, flowers in hand. Your favorite flowers, tied neatly with a ribbon of your favorite color, a card neatly tucked under the petals.

Your coworkers are in uttersock, not even trying to hide their surprise as he marches over to your desk.

You type faster, ignoring him, or trying to. The gazes on you burn, almost as much as they did on the night he left you to rot. Why is he here?

“Hey,” he tries, meekly. He wants to punch himself in the face. Hey? Really?

You don't look up from your monitor, opening more tabs, swiping your mouse against your desk furiously. You think the battery just fell out.

“Listen, I know I'm horrible, a piece of shit, the worst man alive, I don't deserve you in the slightless. But I love you.” he scrambled out in one breath.

You whip your head up at him,”love? You love me so much you took me to a club on valentines day?”

He winces, “it was so stupid. I'm so stupid. Please, let me make it up to you.” he pleads.

You sigh, throwing your head back in your chair, rolling your eyes,”are you actually going to change Jude. Are you going to stop this nonsense and treat me like you actually mean what you say?”

“Yes,” he nods furiously, “I promise. Not a day will go by without me proving it to you, I swear.”

You look back at him. He's worn your favorite cologne, the sweater you used to always steal on cold nights. The flowers are beautiful. You missed him, you missed him so much, to the point that you're really considering it.

Someone coughs in the cubicle next to you and you groan, gathering your things and hastily walking to the door, motioning for Jude to follow.

He looks like a newborn puppy, almost tripping on his feet while he follows you through hallways and corridors till you reach a stairwell you know for certain no one will walk through.

“Jude, I hope you know what you did broke me, it really broke me. I think you ruined my ego, permanently.”

He nods, leaning on the railing while he clutches the bouquet with so much force you're scared they're going to be wrung like a wet rag.

“But,” you raise a finger to him, “ and this is a big big but, if you can prove these things instead of saying them, i'll consider giving you another proper chance okay?”

You see the tension visibly ease from his shoulders as he sighs softly, “Okay, yes, thank you. Thank you so much,” he brings the flowers forward, waiting for you to take them.

And you do, gently picking the note from the petals, you'll read this when you get home.

“I uh also, booked a dinner of your favorite place in a few days, in case you were willing to give me another chance i didn't want to mess it up again and if you don't have anything else going on and i just-” you take his hand in yours, stopping his ramblings effectively as he looks away. All of a sudden so shy as if you haven't stayed at his place for days at a time.

“I'll go Jude. I'm free, don't worry.”

“Great. 7 sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Ill see you then okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles, soft and sweet.

With a smile you send him off, almost flying down the stairs in pure glee. You shake your head fondly, heading back to your work. The flowers weigh more than just their physical weight. The letters feel like a ton on its own.

You hope you made the right choice.

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edosianorchids901 · 2 months

Text

Forget How To Feel

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "a silent hug"

St. James’s Park, 1860

“Ooh, and I thought perhaps we might go to the theatre soon! That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? We could go see Hamlet again.”

Crowley grunted in response to the enthusiastic chatter. His only audible contribution to their meeting so far, aside from grunts of agreement, was the tap of his new cane. The silver snake head handle wasn’t exactly comfortable to hold, and definitely not practical, but it looked cool. Very fashionable.

“Or-or-or perhaps something a bit more cheerful,” Aziraphale said with a sideways glance at Crowley. Crowley averted his gaze, studying the ducks instead. They seemed a lot happier than he was. “I know Hamlet isn’t precisely your favorite thing. I do adore it, especially because it reminds me so much of your kindness.”

Crowley hissed softly.

“Well, it was kind. And don’t argue with me, Crowley.” Aziraphale stopped, and Crowley jammed the cane down to slow himself without toppling over at the sudden change. His legs hadn’t been very reliable this week. “Actually, I would feel somewhat better if you argued with me. You haven’t said a single actual word, and I’m not sure whether it’s because something’s wrong or if I’ve simply been babbling too rapidly for you to sneak in a response.”

Aziraphale waited for him to reply. Crowley stared at the ducks and didn’t reply.

When Aziraphale just kept standing there, waiting, Crowley finally caved. “S’ not you. But nothing’s wrong.”

“Something certainly seems wrong. I-I am aware that I’m often chattier than you, but you usually at least, well. Chat.” With a little sigh, Aziraphale searched his face. Crowley found himself grateful for the new sunglasses that shielded his eyes from the side, too. “Quite frankly, I’m starting to worry.”

There it was. The phrase that would always get him to reply at least a bit, even if he masked the worst of the trouble. “You don’t need to worry, angel. I’m just… kinda down. S’ not a big deal.”

Ducks splashed in the water, totally absorbed in their own lives. It looked peaceful.

“Yes, well. You’ve been ‘kinda down’ since that whole incident in Edinburgh.” Aziraphale swallowed hard, twisting his gloved hands together. “Of course, it’s not that I can blame you, considering the trouble you were in. I merely wonder if I could be of assistance.”

After a minute, Crowley shrugged. Then he looked around nervously for observers. No one seemed to be paying any attention at all to them. “D’ya think ducks ever have a bad day? Or are they just, y’know… happy as a duck, as the saying goes?”

Aziraphale gave him a baffled look. “I’m not entirely sure that is a saying, my dear. Although I’m not always entirely on top of slang…”

That was an understatement. Normally, Crowley would have teased Aziraphale a little about that. Right now, it seemed like too much work.

When he didn’t answer, Aziraphale gave a little huff. “Well, would you rather we met up another time? If you’re having a bad day?”

“I didn’t say I was having a bad day. I was just asking about ducks,” Crowley protested despite knowing that Aziraphale would never buy it. Aziraphale gave him a look. “Okay, okay. Yes, I’m having a bad day. But I just want to…”

He snarled in annoyance, unable to admit it. He just wanted to be with Aziraphale. Not doing anything, not talking. Just together, where the world didn’t feel so bleak.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said softly. “Well, in that case, I’d be more than happy to stay together. We don’t have to talk, if you’d rather not. Why don’t we go sit on the bench for a bit? It’s actually quite a nice day, sun and everything.”

“Nnnh.” Crowley glanced towards their usual bench. It was usually comfortable. “My legs are killing me today. Sitting on wood doesn’t sound terrific. But I don’t really wanna walk back to the shop, either.”

“I could carry you.”

“I am not letting you carry me. That would definitely make people look at us.”

“No, I mean…” Aziraphale snuck a quick look around. “Not in this form. You could turn into a serpent. We could even sit on the bench like that, if I’d be a more comfortable place to rest.”

Biting his lip, Crowley regarded the angel beside him. Aziraphale was definitely the most comfortable place around, no question about that. “People would still look at us.”

“And then they would assume that I’m merely an eccentric, taking my pet snake out for a walk on a nice, sunny day.” Aziraphale held out his arms. “Shall we?”

Crowley snorted. “You’re not even gonna let me sit down first?”

“We can, if you feel like walking.”

Oh. He really, really didn’t feel like walking.

With a soft hiss, Crowley leaned his cane against the fence and laid his hands on Aziraphale’s forearm. “Okay. Okay. But I swear, if you let any humans pet me…”

Aziraphale beamed. “No humans petting you. I promise.”

Reassured, Crowley shifted into his rarely used snake form, coiling around Aziraphale’s arm as he did. The pain in his legs morphed too, distributing to most of his body. But at least it was different, and less intense.

He opted for a pretty big snake, big enough that he would probably scare most observers away. Aziraphale cooed and hugged him close, supporting him carefully. “Oh, my dear. You’re so adorable in this form.”

Crowley hissed his disapproval.

“My apologies. You’re… very striking. Handsome. Stunning. Also quite large.” Chuckling, Aziraphale shifted Crowley’s weight to one arm, then picked up his cane. “Shall we?”

That didn’t mandate a reply, so Crowley didn’t bother getting one. He was too busy being a snake, enjoying the way it sanded the sharp edges off his mood.

It shifted his priorities. Sure, he was still depressed and exhausted and in pain, not to mention constantly worrying about everything going wrong again. But all of that receded. All the snakey side of himself cared about was warm angel, and he definitely had warm angel.

“Here we are.” Aziraphale sank down onto the bench. He leaned the cane nearby, then wrapped both arms around Crowley’s coils. “Would you like me to talk at all, or be silent?”

Right now, talking was too much to process. Crowley hid his face under Aziraphale’s fluffy cravat thingy.

Aziraphale gave a soft chuckle and stroked his coils, then simply wrapped his arms around Crowley and lapsed into silence. Crowley emerged from under the cravat, resting his chin on Aziraphale’s arm.

The previous pileup of anxious worry faded, retreating deeper into the background as he sank into the comfortable lack of conscious thought. Right now, none of that seemed to matter much. He was with Aziraphale, being hugged to incredible warmth. Nothing could be more important than that.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #ace omens hugfest 2024 #snake crowley #disabled crowley

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pinkpigtailsprincess · 1 month

Note

HI ANY TIPS ON BEING THE NEW KID AT A NEW SCHOOL

GENERALLY GETTING ANXIETY ATTACKS LOL

ALSO I LOVE YR BLOG SMM

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖ Doll tips! ; Being the New Kid!! 🎀⭐️

Tip #1 ; Taking a Breath now speaking from experience being the new kid at school is very nerve racking ik ive done it so many times and just sitting back and just breathing snd relaxing can definitely help just calm you down!!

Tip #2 ; Making a Good Impression!! now for this one i not saying you have to be the most outgoing person ever bc it can be overwhelming especially if you have social anxiety or you just have trouble with interacting!! but definitely being as polite as possible can definitely help you in the long run!!! ⭐️

Tip #3 ; Don’t be afraid to introduce yourself

now since you are new to the school you may or may not have to introduce yourself and ik how nerve racking this can be but doing a simple “Hi! I’m _” is really good if you don’t wish to speak then a simple smile and wave is also just as good!!!

Tip #4 ; Recruiting Friends!!

if you wanna be friends with a particular person try going up to them and saying hi to them also helping people with something is a way to get to know a person or having desk/table mates is like a gold mine for making friends with people !!!

Tip #5 ; Not Everyone is a nice person

if you can tell someone is a mean person stay away from them have little to no contact with this person its will save you all the energy and time because people like this can be extremely draining trust ik that!

Tip #6 ; Be nice but don’t be a pushover

obviously being nice is ESSENTIAL but never let someone cross your boundaries or disrespect you call them out on it don’t make a huge scene obviously but definitely let them know that you’re setting a boundary and if they cross again then cut this person off because obviously they don’t respect your boundaries!!

Tip #7 ; Don’t be a Bystander!!

if you see someone getting bullied say something about it,defend them or just ask them if they’re okay being a bystander to the problem makes you part of the problem as well!!!

Tip #8 ; Don’t let others bring you down

again with making boundaries never let someone cross you or make snarky remarks call them out on it and remember this person words obviously don’t matter what other people say doesn’t define you

Tip #9 ; Join a Club!!

joining a club can be an amazing way to make friends while also doing something you enjoy and over all its just an amazing activity!!

Tip #10 ; Don’t overshare!!!

unless you genuinely trust a person don’t overshare because people switch up and anything you say can and will be used against you!

Tip #11 ; Have Main Character mindset

even if you have zero confidence fake it till you make it!! walk with good posture and some pep in ur step!!🎀

Tip #12 ; If u have a group assignment don’t do all the work

omg i can’t stress this enough only do your part if someone is failing to do their part don’t do it for them let them fail thats their own fault

Tip #13 ; Being popular isn’t everything!

social hierarchy in high school or middle school (idk what grade ur in im sorry!!) is so bleak okay being popular isn’t everything i mean sure by some chance you’ll be popular but still you don’t HAVE to fit in because ur made to stand out

Tip #14 ; Channel ur inner Elle Woods & Cher Horowitz

* apply ur self in ur academics

* if you need help ask its not a bad thing to need help!!

* Make an Organizer to stay in top of ur work!!

* STUDY!! STUDY!! STUDY!!

* if you have an assignment with a rubric read it carefully to ensure you can get the highest grade possible!!

* if you unhappy with your grade or feel like you should’ve gotten a better one ask your teacher to review!!!

* wear cute clothes and style ur hair neatly not to for the lookism esque obviously but looking ur best and feeling your best are definitely good ways to feel better!!! 🎀⭐️

* have a “what? like its hard?” mindset

* Don’t Judge!!

* Pursue ur dreams!!

* Don’t be afraid of a challenge

* Be yourself!!

Tip #15 ; Don’t Leave people out!!!

say ur in a group setting and you see one particular person being left out and not getting their chance to speak make them feel welcome ask them about what they were gonna say and include them into the conversation!!!

Tip #16 ; Eat what makes you happy and don’t yuck someones yum

if someone has a cultural dish for their lunch DON’T EVER make them feel bad about it don’t care what it is that loser behavior! also eat the kind of food that makes you feel good inside and that nourishes your body i definitely suggest packing a lunch the night before!!!

Tip #17 ; Don’t hang around Slackers!!

be friends with people that actually apply themselves in their academic and working for what they want!!!

I love you anon i hope you do AMAZING at ur new school!!! 🎀⭐️

#the advice column with dolly 🎀⭐️#it girl #wonyoungism #self care #self improvement #self love #elle woods #cher horowitz #dream girl #pink pilates princess #dollygirl #dolly #2sweet2eat🎀🧁#girl blog aesthetic #girl blogging

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manicrouge · 4 months

Text

Liar

[𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚁𝚞𝚜𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 29/12/23

[𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝]: Keegan lies to you the night you meet yet you remain oblivious to it until you bring it up to him again.

[𝙲𝚠]: angst i guess but it's not that bad.

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 4,533

[𝙰/𝙽]: I had plans for this but I really don't have the motivation to finish it, but considering it's quite a few words I didn't want it to go to waste- there's no smut, apologies, but smut isn't really something I'm overly passionate about so I hope that this fluff is good enough to suffice !!

ENJOY !!

Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!

There's something about him and you're not sure if you should really speak on it because then, ultimately, your delusion is in the real world and not confined to your head. It's torture though, it really is, the constant headache of worrying about how you look and what you're doing when you're around him, and still, you can't seem to snap about it.

There's a limit to love, you've agreed to that inwardly. Some things you do in the name of love are okay: buying them something just because it reminds you of them, getting them something when they're too busy to get it for themselves, asking them out and asking them if they would like to accompany you on a date somewhere in the city.

That's normal for love, it something you imagine most people do.

But then there's your tricky little mind and it seems to kick and scream at the thought of doing something sane in the name of love. You don't want to do any of those things, you don't want to be nice. It's obvious, at least, you think it is.

He makes you a violent person.

Perhaps its because you want to show off, you want to him to see you and admire that you did everything he wants from you and much more. When you were just a rookie, you're quite sure you were close to being kicked out, being forced to resume life the way you had prior to them finding you on the side of the road after ODIN had been attacked.

The very thought, even to this day, makes you nauseous. Facing the unbearable heat, soldiers and starvation is a recipe for disaster, and after going without food for however long you did, you had sworn you weren't going to let anything compromise that. But things were overwhelming and you were essentially a burden during the first few months of your training; you couldn't do anything right.

But he saw you at your lowest, and he didn't let that happen. In fact, you're quite sure he saved you when you met that night.

'Crying won't get you anywhere, kid.'

If there was one thing about Keegan, he was absolutely right about everything. Including that.

Pushing your head up from out of your lap, you sniffled, rubbing your nose as you catch a set of blue eyes staring at you. He was unlike anyone you had ever seen before, a mask covering his features, beanie atop his head as he approaches you, kicking a stone beside you. You turn your head away from him and watch as the little rock rolls down the edge of the hill in the direction of the track.

'You were supposed to be asleep an hour ago,' he adds, taking a seat beside you. You keep your eyes trained on the direction the stone had slipped, keeping your arms wrapped around your knees before resting your chin upon them. 'You'd get into trouble if one of the superiors caught you outside.'

'I'm no good anyway,' you said, 'better going out this way than any other way.'

Your tone was bleak as you contemplated throwing yourself down the hill. It wouldn't have killed you, but it would free you from the shame of having to speak to the man sitting beside you. 'They're gonna get rid of me soon, throw me to the wolves.'

There wasn't a reply from the man sitting beside you for a while as he shifted where he was sitting. You hear the tear of velcro and finally decided to turn your head to see him holding a box of cigarettes in his hand.

'When I was first starting out,' he began, 'couldn't shoot a sniper for the fuckin' life of me,' he continued, plucking a cigarette from the carton. Bringing his hand up, he hooked his fingers under the edges of his mask, pulling it up, revealing his jaw and lips.

Much to your surprise, you spied black stubble around his mouth and trailing his jawline. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he grabbed the lighter from the box. Cupping his hand around his mouth, It took a moment, the item in his hand spluttering before eventually spitting a full enough flame for him to light his cigarette. 'I could shoot every other gun okayish, but I wasn't the asset they needed me to be.'

'Don't believe you,' you mumble, looking at the pattern on his mask. You recalled the white markings to belong to a particular unit that even the General had trouble addressing. They did their own thing, stayed out of everyone else's way. 'You're a Ghost, aren't you? Best of the best.'

You don't look at a Ghost unless they talk to you.

'The mask?' he asked, 'part of the branding, forget I have it on half the time,' he admits, taking a puff from his cigarette. 'Everyone has to start somewhere, kid.'

'I've been here for months and I'm still awful at everything,' you confessed, 'I can't shoot a gun for the fuckin' life of me; my aim is off and I can never seem to focus.'

'If you think about it too much, you'll struggle,' he said.

'A- And, I can't do close combat- I've been to the infirmary more times than I can count... whenever I go to the nurse now, she doesn't even speak to me,' you rambled, running your hand through your hair. Your throat starts to clog up as you continued to pour your heart out to the man sitting beside you. You couldn't really seem to help it; he was there, and from what you could tell, he wasn't discouraging your fury.

Rules had it that your hair was supposed to be slicked back out of your face and tied up, but after the day you had had, you couldn't muster the strength to keep it tied up. So, after you had had a shower, you kept it out to keep the dull ache in your head away for as long as you could.

You were surprised the man beside you hadn't said anything to you about it. Only, when it's out of your way, you found it easier to keep your hands from plucking and picking at your scalp whenever the anxiety got too much and you were scared you were going to drown in a well of your own tears.

'You're too stressed about everything,' he said, 'if you overthink it, like I said, you're gonna fuck it up. What's got you so stressed, kid?' he asked, looking at you. Your eyes water as you turn your head away from him, letting out a shaky exhale.

A better question would have been what wasn't stressing you out.

'Hey, don't shut down on me, tell me what's wrong... can't promise I'll be much help, but it's good to have someone to talk to,' he said, 'talk at me, tell me what's wrong,' he demanded, as though he was some form of saviour.

Only, in that moment, he was.

'They're gonna throw me out if I can't be what they want me to be,' you were much too choked up to fight against the urge of spilling your guts to the Ghost, your grip around your knees growing tighter as you began to shake. 'And I can't go back out there; if I go back out there, 'm gonna die, I know I am,' you sniffled, 'a- and I can't die, especially not out there with those monsters I can't but I'm going to if I don't get better but I don't think I can get better and- and—'

A firm hand was placed on your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you as he pulled you to his side.

You were startled at first, feeling his gloved hand on your shoulder, being pulled close enough for your senses to be flooded with his cologne. Ghost's weren't supposed to be like this, they were supposed to be aloof, transparent, careless. Yet, as he held you, you found your trembling nerves were soothed with his efforts.

The cigarette on his breath stained the moment, and when you opened your eyes, you found that he had tossed the cigarette down the same hill that the little rock he had kicked had rolled down, the red hue of the burning tip settling into the darkness while winking at you.

'You're not gonna get thrown out, kid,' he quietly said, 'it's been a tough change, I know it has been, but you can't let it get to you because, if you do, the stress is gonna kill you before anything beyond this base gets to you, hm?' he asked, looking at you.

You looked back at him, thinking back to that morning where you had pulled out a small clump of hair from the your head. You'd spent the next hour crying over it, and whittled yourself so far down that you'd convinced yourself you were going to die.

Everything lead to the thought of death with you. You couldn't escape it. The devil caged you and he trapped you, laughing in your face as he dangled your very livelihood before you.

And still you failed.

'How do you know that?' you asked, 'you think some sort of miracles going to happen?' you continued.

'I'm going to teach you,' he said, 'I'll give you a helping hand; wanna see if you're as useless as you're saying you are or if you're just overcomplicating everything.'

'You don't have the time to do that, at this point I'm gonna be 90 but the time I manage to land a hit on someone in training.'

'And how do you know that?' he asked, 'you my Captain?'

You stared at him, the sudden shift in his tone causing your face to heat up.

'You'd be wasting you time with me,' you said, shaking your head, attempting to pull away from him, all for his grip on you to tighten.

He wasn't going to let you pull away from him, especially while in the state you were in. You'd curse him if you didn't feel so secure in his arms, so, you simply give in to the urge of staying close to him, not allowing your ego to destroy the first ounce of comfort you had gotten since arriving on the base.

'Wasting time here with you now; could be in bed,' he stated simply, 'I'll speak to someone, get you put under my supervision until I'm sure you'll be fine returning to your brigade.'

'Are you allowed to do that?' you asked.

'Captains in your department barely look at me, kid,' he chuckled, ''scared I'm gonna bash the brains in with the butt of my gun or somethin'. They won't turn down my request- especially if you're as much as a burden as you're sayin' you are; they'd be happy to get you off their hands if that's the case, not that they'd refuse me in the first place.'

He spoke to you as though you were a friend, but you regarded his support as treating you most likely as a lesson; the men your department had little interest in showing a woman how to fight, perhaps that was why you were struggling so much. No one really wanted to give you the time of day, and in a path where it was either sink or swim, you found their actions were taxing.

It was blatant that the men you worked with had little interest in you, and you're clued up enough now to know that. Yet, deep down, you're sure you've always been conscious to their biases towards male soldiers, only, now, you say it without fear of being reprimanded for your supposed 'accusation'. They can't do shit to you anymore and you're thankful for it, because, in the end, if they even look in your direction, you'd have no issue bashing their brains in with the butt of the pistol in the holster on your thigh.

Recently, you find you've been going back to that night where you had been in tears, mostly while by yourself, whether it be at the base or elsewhere, you were focused on that pesky little memory which lead to your stomach pulsing in a sickly manner as you recall the feel of his hand resting on your shoulder and the smell of his cologne.

Little has changed- if anything.

Only, he's a little taller than he was when you first started training together. His height has him towering over you now, and you always laugh about it to yourself whenever your sparring with each other- especially when you're able to put him on his ass.

There's confusion surrounding the memory in your mind, you have mostly forgotten about it until one day, it reappeared. You're unsure what triggered the memories resurgence, and you review it with a sinful glint in your eyes, even with the lack of suggestiveness about the scene.

There's something there that makes you want to scream, that makes you want to cover the world in blood, and you have been fighting with yourself attempting to unwind the memory, unwrap the secrecy of its meaning which it is rejoicing in while you're suffering.

—

The next op leads you to No Mans Land, Elias has sent his sons there with the intent of helping you track down Ajax. You're familiar with the tactics and intent between sending his two boys out there, though none of you really comment or acknowledge the possibility of your squad growing with two members, and supposedly a dog. You're happy to do the work he assigned his boys with yourself; it would be nothing but a quick in and out, especially with the looming time between Ajax's kidnapping and where you find yourself right now.

It's been weeks and you're still no closer to getting him back and you find, while peering through your scope, searching for any sign of the Walker boys, you're gritting your teeth as you contemplate the damage it's doing to Keegan. Both of them are good friends, been together since day one.

But there's nothing you can do; one wrong move and Ajax will be gone forever, and you're not selfish enough to put the life of a friend on the line. You'd put yours on the line before you even dare to put someone else's out for your own greedy intent.

The Federation are like dogs, and as soon as they catch a whiff of Ghost blood, they'll have their feral little backs up, huffing, puffing and growing, impersonating that of a wolf, when, in reality, they're nothing of the sorts. Instead, the puny little pups who cower at the sight of their own shadow... or Rorke. But neither of them are very different from one another.

'You catch anything, kid?' Keegan calls through coms.

Looking down from your position, you catch the man standing below you, Merrick surveying the surrounding area as you hold your sniper up, keeping your eyes on the terrain surrounding you.

You're a fair distance away from where the Walker boys were sent by Elias, ensuring the area is clean for when they eventually make their way to the meet up spot.

'Negative,' you respond, pulling your scope away from your face, 'clear,' you say, 'they're all hauled up at the camp the Walker boys are goin' to- that's my bet anyway,' you say, hooking your arm through the strap on your sniper, carefully making your way down from the tree.

Setting on a curve in the tree, you look down at the ground, shuffling off while keeping hold of a branch. With a grunt, you push yourself off of it, landing on the ground with ease.

'Stalker-Six, this is Viking Actual, we are en route to the target location, how copy?' you perk your ears up, while you busy yourself with grabbing your canteen off of your belt, frowning when you're greeted with a distinct lightness. During the walk up to the scope point, you're quite sure you were only sipping at it. 'We are en route to target location location, how copy?'

A step closer to getting Ajax back.

Hooking you canteen back onto your vest, you lift your head to see Keegan holding his own out to you, 'you drink like it's goin' out of fuckin' fashion, kid,' he remarks, letting go of it as you grab it out of his hands. Unscrewing the lid, he watches you, 'just don't finish it all; can't drink any of the water around here and we don't know how long they're going to be.'

'Solid copy, viking,' Merrick responds, 'be advised, recent reports indicate a lot of enemy movement in that area. We're on a schedule here, so get that intel and get out fast,' he continues. Both you and Keegan listen, and you take two sips of water from his canteen with his narrowed gaze on you before relenting, giving him the bottle back. 'See?'

'Roger that.'

'You're the one with an empty canteen, princess,' he answers, snatching it off of you, putting it back onto his belt. 'We best continue to move up from this position; we're too far out to meet them,' he says, looking to Merrick who hums, 'we're clear to proceed—'

He's crudely cut off by a distant rumble, the shudder resulting in the wind picking up pace, a crows cried out in the distance.

The collateral damage done to the world since ODIN was ripped from the States has been catastrophic, and every now and again, you observe your surroundings with a reservation set for when you make it back to the base; you don't have time to contemplate and wallow in your sorrows, rather, you simply have to get on with it, just as Keegan does as he opens his mouth to speak again.

'Whole place is gonna be swallowed soon,' he sighs, turning to look down the path.

Merrick proceeds forward without another word, intent on keeping on the schedule he has planned out since hearing word from Elias requesting you're there to meet the boys for the information.

Keegan takes a small step before stopping looking over his shoulder at you, 'c'mon, kid, burning daylight,' he says, motioning his head in the direction of Merrick who has already began to trail the path down, 'and water too,' he chuckles, picking up the pace.

It takes a moment to realise why he's suddenly hot on his feet, his sudden shift in mood causing your heart to murmur as you finally see some form of happiness on his face.

You're a second away from smiling at him, and then his comment strikes you like a blunt blade and you grumble out a curse, following after the two men with a huffing breath and curse

—

'Stalker Six, we got something here, looks like they're digging through some sort of wreckage.'

After a few minutes of silence and trivesing through the remains of the wild life in the rotting area, you're greeted with the voice of the same Walker boy who has been doing all the talking.

You're familiar with his name, Hesh. Although, as you're walking beside Keegan, you find the name of the other one escapes you. It doesn't help that he certainly is not one for words.

The comment he makes has all three of you sharing a look, unable to muster any form of response. Despite the urge to speak, you remain quiet, watching as Merrick's brow furrows, rubbing his masked mouth with his hand. 'What do you mean? What kind of wreckage?'

It could be anything and you've learned, over the years, that nothing should surprise you anymore. Hell, even if aliens greet the remnants of Earth tomorrow, you're convinced you'll barely bat an eye to it; it's simply just another day on the job.

'Not sure. It's guarded, but we're gonna push through.'

It's good to know the boys share the same determination as their father, though, the mysterious wreckage works to cause your brow to wrinkle as you contemplate what exactly they're up to now. 'Do they ever have a fuckin' off day?' you ask.

'Negative,' Merrick retorts, 'enemy always has to be doin' something, was the same in the Second World War and it's the same in this one too. You let the enemy loose for a moment of shut eye, they'll dig your grave and put you in it by the time you wake up again,' he continues, his tone gruff as you watch his back.

It's difficult to miss the gunshots the further the Walker boys push into No Man's Land, and you find your hand hovering about the pistol in your holster just to make sure nothing and no one will pounce on you.

While proceeding to the meet up spot, you busy yourself with the thought of Merrick's words, while keeping a watchful eye out for any signs of moment. Nothing is going to get past you, and if it does, you're thankful you have the watchful eye of Keegan located at your side.

It's difficult to even think of him never being as capable as he is today, and when you glance at him, you find your mind falling back to the night once again.

There's something in your chest that flutters at the thought of his care towards you from the night you met all away to right in this moment; Keegan always has your back.

And you always have his... only because of his training, of course.

He catches your look almost immediately and you catch his face shifting beneath his mask.

'What?' he asks, 'something on my face?' he asks, clearly amused.

You say nothing for a moment, looking in Merrick's direction to see the man is a fair distance away from the pair of you.

'You remember how we met, right?' you ask, to which he nods his head, keeping his eyes surveying the area. 'When we met, you said you were a shit shot and—'

You stop when you catch Merrick looking at Keegan with a raised eyebrow. Typically, the man kept his nose out of the conversations the pair of you have; there's nothing in there for him to really understand, only bothering to join the debate when it is of importance.

In fact, he remarked that, before meeting you, Keegan was quiet- and he still is, in your humble opinion, yet, apparently his short and witty replies to your comments render all the Ghosts shocked.

The pair of them share a look, and you catch it. It's subtle, you'll give them that, but it's notable enough for you to let out a short laugh.

'What?' you slowly say.

Keegan takes a breath, turning his attention to you. He's grinning beneath the mask.

'You wanna know the truth?' he asks.

Your eyes narrow.

'What truth?'

'I lied to you when we first met,' he says.

It's as though a bullet is fired into your stomach as you look at the man in front of you. He's unmoved by his confession, carrying on as though he has said nothing to you.

'You lied to me? About what?' you ask.

Maybe it was about the fact that he really wanted to take you under his wing, maybe he was full of shit about that- what if it was a funny dare or something? You'd take the pistol out of the holster and blow your brains out if such is the case.

His calmness is insulting as he looks at you.

'Saying I was a shit shot, I'm a liar,' he says, and despite the match, you can see him smiling under it, 'was one of the best in my squad, that's how I got the attention of Elias in the first place.'

'W- Why would you lie about that?' you ask.

Your entire life seems to be a lie in a moment of overdramatic reflection.

'Because you looked like you needed someone to relate to,' he shrugs, as though it's something that means little. 'I didn't want to make you feel like you had no one there,' he says, 'the people in the squad you were in when I met were unforgiving to you, kid; they expected perfection from the minute you joined and you were capable of that because you need help and—'

'I needed you,' you state, not caring for any excuse he'd muster up.

Beneath his mask, you note the smile on his face as he nods his head.

'You said it yourself,' he chuckles.

'Didn't think you'd risk your own price to do somethin' nice,' Merrick butts in, 'suppose you did the right thing though, got one of the strongest fighters on our squad through a lie.'

Your cheeks redden at the compliment and you rub your face with your gloved hand.

'Was all worth it in the end,' Keegan shrugs.

As you push forward, per the command of Merrick, your heartbeat is ringing in your ears- it's pathetic really; you feel like a fucking high schooler as your thoughts are swarmed with the very thought that, even upon meeting you, he cared enough about you to lie to you.

You know him well enough to know that despite his quiet nature in the face of opposition and those who he doesn't know, he's a prideful man and he takes pride in his work and abilities. His confidence, while at times annoying, is something you wouldn't change in the world. His confidence keeps you alive and his confidence is the very reason you're standing beside him and fighting beside him.

After a while of silence, you look at him and nudge him with your elbow.

'Thanks for lying to me,' you say.

'You're welcome,' he answers, looking at you, 'all you needed to have was a little bit a of help- somethin' they weren't ever going to give you.'

'Why did you even approach me in the first place?'

He turns away from you for a moment, sucking in a breath. That glowing confidence seems to disappear for a moment, but after a brief second of collecting himself, he turns back to you.

'I thought you were pretty.'

You're winded, and not by the walk.

'I was a crying, snotty mess,' you blurt out, to which he rolls his eyes.

'I'd seen you around the base, and you only started crying when I starting talking to you properly. But, even if you're a crying snotty mess or not, it doesn't matter to me, kid,' he says, 'you looked pretty.'

You bite your lip, turning away from him. Unfortunately, you lack what he has in abundance. He doesn't say anything further as the you proceed to the meeting spot, instead, he slips his hand into yours, tightly squeezing it.

It's short and brief as he soon lets go at the sound of a barking dogs, although, before the pair of you jump back into action, you both offer. each other a knowing look as you prepare to paint the world red; you know his eyes are on you.

We'll talk about this later.

TAGS: (If you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!) @forever-twenty-two-years-old @iizx7y @phantomreadsandreblogs

#cod #call of duty #cod ghosts #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x you #fluff #cod x reader #ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty x reader

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kiwi-channn · 2 months

Text

falling petals

simon riley × fem reader (wife)

(part 2)

I was gonna make it a break up but I thought I could make it a bit more realistic so don't come at me :⁠-⁠)

Also I wanted to end it in this part but it was gonna be too long if I ended it here so maybe there will be just a part 3

Anyway hope you like this part (⁠^⁠^⁠)

(another little thing: I didn't mention any babies in part 1 but I thought I should give them a baby really to make it more reasoning for this part so reader and Simon have a little baby okay.. but it wasn't necessary before)

part 1 here

....….................................................

you were folding some of your clothes in the bedroom, it has been four days since that confession, and now y/n is just back here like nothing happened. Yes he has been sleeping on the couch in the living room but she is still back in their house, the house they built together. Every time her gaze falls on any corner in that house, memories rush to her mind, happy moments, sad moments, argument moments… it was home.. But now it feels foreign.. Not the same place she knows, not the same place she felt comfortable in, not the place she wanted to decorate most of the time, to make it look better. Now she just feels so empty like a shell thrown on the shore away from the sea water, the cruel waves kicked her out of the water she loved.

“All men are like this, just live for your kid” that sentence keeps repeating in her head, like a broken record, replaying again and again…

…….

On that confession night at 12:30 after midnight, she locked herself in the bedroom with her small baby, crying and crying until there were no more tears coming out of her eyes, but she still felt so damaged and broken, looking beside her at the roses he sent while on deployment without an occasion, now she understands why he sent them, he was guilty, that is all…

The red petals are dry, so dry, their fresh red color is fading, and they are slowly falling on the surface of the nightstand beside the bed…

Her little baby daughter is still crying.. Like she feels her mother's broken heart, crying for her sadness, y/n doesnt know how to calm down and stop her heart from bleeding nor how to calm her little girl down… it feels black not even blue… so she just kept crying with her .. Will this horrible night end?!... Is it all a horrible nightmare?...

(will i wake up now?)

After about half an hour of this bleak time, y/n decides to leave, she can’t take this anymore, she feels so disgusted at her unfaithful husband simon riley..

She gets up, her body feeling heavy, and first before anything feeding her crying baby girl to make her calm down and not cry anymore… and she gathers some of her stuff and holds her baby up in one arm and a small bag in the other hand, taking a deep breath before going out.. hoping that he isn't outside...

Slowly opening the bedroom's door, taking a peek outside to see where simon is, 'cause she doen't wanna see him… she thanks god that he isn't out there, and she doesn't care where he is really, she quickly takes some necessary stuff for the baby and wears her sneakers and leaves that dark house….

Takes a taxi to her mom’s house, she really needs her right now, she wants any kind of support, and her mother’s embrace is gonna be the best thing ever to gaher her broken pieces together….

….

“What happenned?” her mom says softly… “what did he do? Why are you back with your baby and you look horrible?”... “speak to me.. Iam getting more worried..” her mom was so concerned… she knew that something big happened making her daughter come to her this late at night..

Y/n sighs tiryingly, thinking if she should tell her mom about the whole thing…

“Nothing, I just don't wanna see his face ever again..” says so quietly with a tired heart..

“What?... you dont wanna see simon?!... are you for real?..” her mom can't believe her ears… her daughter was always so in love with him.. She is sure that something big happened .. She looks carefully at her dead looking daughter y/n… she sees her puffy red eyes from crying, her pale face…

“He is seeing someone?..” her mom said so calmly like she wasn't even asking, it is a statement…

She can't believe that her mom guessed it so quickly.. She looks at her… confused “how did you know?” .. “did he look so unloyal? Was I so stupid?.. Mom” she couldnt help but shed a few tears.. Her mother felt so sad for seeing her collapsing like this… hugging her tightly..

“I can't, i dont wanna live anymore in this world, i wish i was never even born… i did everything i can, i tried to be good at everything… where did i go wrong?..”

“It is not your fault and you know it… you did nothing wrong, you are the best, you are my daughter..”

“Then why?... why did he do that?... i feel so mad, i don't wanna see his face, i hate him… i don't wanna look at his face again… he fooled me… i was so dumb..” sobbing more..

“Calm down my dear.. Just cry it out… vent it all out.. Lighten your heart… I'm here..”

(i dont remember for how long i cried, i just cried and cried like a baby in my mom's arms… i didnt feel anything after that nor even remember what happened exactly after that……)

………..

She finished folding the clothes … then she got up and went to the kitchen to drink some water and refresh herself… she doen't know what to do anymore… but she can't ignore what her mom said a few days ago..

.........

“Mom!.. What are you saying?.. Should I just stay with him like nothing happened?... do you-”

“I know… i know it's hard and you feel so mad and disgusted… but… let's be realistic okay?..”

“Realistic!... oh so i should just ignore what happened and stick with him like he didn't do anything…”

“y/n..”

“Like he didn't see someone else.. Like he did touch someone else while I was here alone, taking care of my child alone… he was just doing that thing!... that. he touched someone else.. He .. he just loved someone else….”

“Calm down… i know what iam saying is frustrating , but i dont want you to be like me… i dont your child to not have his parents together… think about your kid… remember how you felt when your father left…”

“I remember how I felt.. But you know how it feels to be betrayed… how come you are telling me to not get a divorce!.. I dont understand you.. Mom.. I imagine how he was with her.. Was I nothing?... he just kissed her, said the same things to her.. ” tears welling up in her eyes… she feels like a broken faucet… tears driping all the time…

“Iam telling you to not do it, because i know how it feels… but every time i felt i needed someone with me to take care of you and your sister.. I wished to not be alone at that time…” her mom said..

“But..”

“It is your decision but i think you should give him a chance… give another chance to that home you built… don't just let it all down… for some other woman... Don't let her take your place".... "and at the end of the day it's your choice…”

……..

The front door opening woke her up to the present… she saw simon coming in through the door, she felt like throwing up the moment she looked at his face, and she looked back at the kettle …

He felt awkward, she used to welcome him every time he came back no matter where he went, even if it was down the street… but it feels strange now, the mood is so gloomy… like he is a guest coming for a short visit and should leave… he wants to make it better.. To solve this…

“Hey..” he says gently.. Looking at her back… he wants to get closer.. To feel her .. "I went to the store to buy some diapers for lily"

She didnt answer him.. Not even looking his way.. Like he was nothing..

He sighed and approached her a bit.. He stopped at the entrance of the kitchen, he doen't dare to get closer.. To enter her space… she has already closed the door of that unseen space…

“Can you at least answer me.. y/n” his voice was tired.. He couldn’t sleep for the last few days… feeling so grossed at himself.. He doesn't understand what he did himself…

She still doesnt answer.

“At least get mad… dont just be silent..”

“What do you want me to say?...” .. “I told you I'm only here for my child… I'm not here to fix anything..” she snaps at him… her voice raising a bit.. but her tone is still firm...

“I know that… but since I picked you up from your mom's house, you didnt say anything… and why not fix it… i will-” he is so desperate..

“I don't want anything from you… i don't even wanna see your face…” y/n says angrily…not caring about hurting his feelings like before.. she actually wanna hurt him… she wanna make him feel more horrible.. more desperate..

“I'm sorry..” he just aplogized quietly.. Making her more mad…

“I don't wanna hear it… it won't change anything…”

“Maybe if you talked.. Let it out on me….” he begs her.. he doesn't mind if she even threw anything at him.. he knows that what he did will never be forgiven especially from her.. but he still hopes a bit...

“I said stop talking to me…”

“y/n… I'm not gonna stop, I will try until you talk…” it's like he is provoking her more...

“You want me to talk!... fine.. I hate you and i feel so disgusted every time i see your face… i wish that i take all the years i wasted on you back… i wish i didn't marry you… i wish i didn't have a kid with you… i really will never ever forgive you…. I ..” she snapped again… letting lots of things out of her heart…

Simon didn't say anything back, he just listened to her.. He knows he made a huge mistake but will do anything to fix this…

And she continues “I gave you everything… all of me.. I tried and tried… I learned how to cook to make a warm meal for you and make you feel at home… I ignored how cold you get sometimes… ignored how lonely and tired i was .. all alone most of the time.. But I stayed loyal… I took care of my kid all alone… I worked hard to make this relationship work… i put my trust in you, told you all my fears ,and even though i told you i don't trust men because of my dad and you just… you..”

“I'm sorry..” he said with a so quiet tone, like he was scared to mess it up more… he doesn't know what to say... Just feeling more ashamed..

“I don't wanna hear your apology…” said quietly as she wiped her tears... she didn't want to cry in front of him...

he tried getting closer to her.. he wanted to hold her close... he really hoped she would forgive him... he really wanted them to go back to how it was.. to how warm she was.. to how happy she was... not like this...

she felt his arms around her... making her feel more broken... but it all fell down already, she can't just accept his hug like before...

he expected it when she pushed his arms away from her... walking out of the kitchen with one last sentence... "Don't get close to me.."

....

with this chaotic encounter, she goes to the bedroom and smacks the door behind her, locking it... she hates it so much... hates seeing his face.. hates his voice.. how did that woman look like.. how could he touch someone else.. this is driving her crazy... and what is driving her crazy more is how she can't cut it all and end it for good... what should she really do?... should she just let go and walk away from him?... or stay and give this a chance?... she does need help.. and needs time too... her emotions and feelings are all over the place...

#simon ghost riley x fem reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #cod #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #cheating #angst #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #lieutenant riley

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ofallthingsnasty · 3 months

Note

Darling who doesn’t speak their yandere’s language…oh the possibilities

Yandere can say anything and their darling wouldn’t understand. They’d probably tell darling the most depraved and lewd things and darling would be like “Hm? What does that mean?” and yandere would tell them “It means ‘Have a good day’!” ☺️

Or if a darling escapes and tries to go to the authorities for help. They won’t understand what darling is saying and yandere will swoop in and tell them “oh this is my friend visiting from another country. They must have gotten lost, poor thing, thank you for keeping them safe for me!”

The possibilities, indeed…

tags: yandere, minors dni, starts out with general yandere tropes, then shifts to One Piece and then to one of my OCs (Evan), just silly ramblings, really wc: 0.8k

From the malicious ones who pick a foreign darling on purpose - one, because it makes it harder for you to leave and two, because you’ll be more difficult to find by your own country’s police force, just because of the sheer amount of bureaucracy. You’re just so dependent on them. If they drag you out into the country (and out of the city, where you will find way more speakers of your language), change up your appearance and introduce you as their spouse - they could keep you for years, probably. Even have you around in the public, if they’re cocky. And if they just stuff you in the basement… No one will ever find you. So, even if you aren’t their little secret - you still need them for everything. From doctor’s appointments to simple shopping trips, to conversations with the neighbors… They’ll keep you dumb and complacent, translate what others say to you and you to them however it fits their own interests. And if you are just the little basement spouse, well… Have fun trying to break out of your confines and then running to the next house where you’ll be regarded as nothing but some crazy person hurriedly gesturing and trying to scream at anyone you can lay an eye on. They can’t understand you - and there are all sorts of scams out there today, who knows what your real motive is? No, no, that door is closing even before you can finish your first sentence. What a bleak fate. Then there are the egoistic ones - the ones who can communicate with you, but you can’t do the same with your environment. They want to be the center of your universe, their everything, the only way you experience life - not out of malice, but out of sheer obsession. I don’t think such a type would pick a foreign darling on purpose, but it’s a massive plus for them. It’s going to be just you and them, in your own little world, where they might as well be your god with how much power they hold over you. I could also see a spouse-turned-captor type go this route - just in reverse. They’d probably get you to move somewhere you’re a fish out of water and they very much aren’t - just to make it almost impossible for you to leave them. Because not only do they manage everything for you now, no, there is a financial aspect to this… Do you even have the money to move back? Or are you stuck in a foreign place, strapped for cash and without any helping hands? Goodness, you better think twice about breaking up with them, hm?

Also, I have to bring my fandom du jour into this - but this makes me think of Sanji, at least in a roundabout way. If we’re talking about a modern AU, I think he would immensely enjoy a foreign darling. In general, I see him not as a classic yandere, but more as someone who slowly morphs into one because he loves you so deeply, is so dependent on you. And you know what he’d adore? If you had to communicate with the rest of the world through him. He’d do anything for you - and I really mean anything. That man hangs on every word that falls from your lips, knows how to interpret every little twitch of your eyebrow, would crawl into your skin if he could - the thought of you having to lean on him in such a way, to give back even a fraction of that love and need he has for you… He’s obsessed with it. Not only can he truly and fully keep you to himself if you two were to move out of the country, you’d need him for everything. On the surface, he’s such a sweet, adoring husband but deep, deep down he’s a total creep. You’ll probably never see it coming, just take that little idea of his to move as something that would benefit you, first and foremost - because to you, Sanji never thinks about his own well-being, only yours. Aren’t you so lucky? And you know who would love a foreigner darling as well? One of my werewolf boys, Evan. Not necessarily because it makes things easier (it’s certainly a plus, just not intentional), but because he gets incredibly sentimental over the fact that he can teach you English. He views himself as your knight in shining armor, your husband, the love of your life - and god, wouldn’t it be so cute, such an amazing bonding experience to teach you his language? Once he sees you, he’s already dreaming of long nights spent pouring over books, of you clumsily parroting whatever he tells you to say. You’re going to be so grateful for all his work, too, he just knows it! Honestly, the moment the idea pops into his head, he’s immediately making a wishlist for all sorts of books and learning material one could feed an English second language learner.

#such a fun trope...#i've been working on an OC/Reader fic with a foreign darling and it really tickles me...#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere one piece #tw.yandere #OC: Evan #/sanji #/one piece

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accio-sriracha · 4 months

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"It was never not you."

A Wolfstar micro-fic

~~~♤~~~

And there Sirius was: his clothes and hair dripping from the rain, his eyes wide and his hands curled tightly into fists.

He was shaking, Remus couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from the fear. Probably both.

"I'm sorry." Sirius whispered again, "You don't have to accept it. I know I haven't given you very many reasons to. But I am. I swear I am. These last twelve years have been torture for me, Moons. I'm sorry I let you down. I don't expect you to forgive me or to let me make it up to you, but I hope you'll give me the chance to try."

Remus stayed silent.

He wanted to tell him everything, wanted to confess that a life without Sirius was never a life at all. He wanted to tell him that it didn't matter how long he needed to wait, he would always wait, he would wait for Sirius until the end of time if he needed to.

Remus knew Sirius wanted an answer. He wanted to know if Remus could ever be friends with him again.

But it was more than that. Remus didn't want to go back to the way things were, to the nervous touches and shy silence. He wanted more, he wanted everything. If he had to endure more time without Sirius than he'd ever spent with him then he didn't want to waste another moment.

But how could Remus explain the emotions swirling inside of him?

How could he explain that his love of anything in this bleak, dull world came from his love of this man?

How could he explain that he started smoking again just to keep the panic attacks at bay? That if he closed his eyes it was almost like they were kids again, young with nothing to lose but each other, sharing a cigarette under the light of the half moon.

How could he explain the weight he had lost? He'd spent years timing his meals with Sirius' to make sure he was actually eating, and once that was gone he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it anymore.

How could he explain that he couldn't manage to step foot in the library or the three broomsticks again, knowing he would scan the tables for his old best friends?

How could he explain that he still searched for Sirius in the strangers passing by? He searched for shining silver eyes and jet black hair, for muggle rock band shirts and the glint of the white gold in his jewelery.

How could he explain the pain in hearing Sirius' name whispered by people around him? The pain in reading about him in the papers.

And how was he to explain the nightmares that had consumed him? When he woke every morning for the better half of a decade with Sirius' name falling from his lips, the memory of his touch like ghosts on his skin.

Would Sirius understand the desperation crawling up inside of him? Would he understand this hunger, this need to have him close and never let him go again?

But even if he knew how to say all of this, he knew he couldn't get the words out. Staring at Sirius, seeing his emotions so raw and his heart laid out for Remus, it was too much.

So he did the only thing he could think of

He leaned forward... and kissed him.

Sirius didn't startle the way he'd expected him to. He didn't jump, didn't shy away or stand confused and still.

He kissed him back.

And there was that desperation Remus had felt for nearly twenty two years, since the moment he first laid eyes on Sirius.

It was gripping clothes and tears mixed with raindrops and oh so utterly perfect.

"I love you." Remus whispered, he knew he should have waited, but they'd done their waiting hadn't they? "I love you, Sirius. I love you so fucking much."

He kissed him again, relishing in the mumbled 'I love you too' against his lips.

And in that moment, in this rain, he knew he would never feel anything as strongly as he did now. A love to overpower the twelve years of grief and regret and betrayal. A love to make him whole again.

"I'm never letting you go." Remus told him as they lay together later that night, Sirius tucked safely in his arms.

"Good, because I think I'd die if you did." Sirius whispered back.

"How long have you known?" Remus tucked a strand of hair behind Sirius' ear, "That it was me you loved."

Sirius smiled, a bright smile that made Remus' chest tighten,

"Moony... it was never not you."

~~~♤~~~

#marauders #harry potter #marauders era #marauders headcanon #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #wolfstar headcanon #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar feels

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covenantofthedeep · 11 months

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forcing a smile and waving goodbye ☆

feat. | xiao, childe, hu tao, and raiden shogun summary | breaking up w them :( a/n | it's been so long since i've written angst omg

hu tao |

she's been together with you for so long that she can hardly remember days without you. her life's been split into two sections; With You and Without You. Without You is cold and dark, a cave in her mind where she vanishes during the night and doesn't emerge till noon the next day.

she remembers how, before she met you, she was just there--incomplete, always bouncing around, always tailing people. she was just that girl at the funeral parlor that somehow knows zhongli. she was just hu tao. she remembers how, just two weeks after you two had started dating, she'd become hutaoandyn. she'd become important.

when you sit her down at your perfect mahogany-colored dining table, your perfect hands cupping a warm, steaming tea, your earnest eyes staring into hers, saying i don't think this is working out anymore, she is convinced it's a nightmare. she lets the words flow over the top of her head, holding her breath so she wouldn't cry. she doesn't say anything (are there even words for this awful pain?), just swallows her burning tea and stands up. the chair makes an awful squeaking noise, probably scratching up the floors you love so much. and she thinks, i hope they get scratched up so bad that every time you see them you think of me. and then she had feels ashamed, and petty. she forces a smile and she waves goodbye, and then slams the door.

she sits in the car for what felt like ten years, tears dripping onto the steering wheel and the seat, her shoes in her hand, her nose burning. the sky is gray, the ground is gray, the clouds are taunting her. her fire is gray, the funeral parlor is bleak. there is no joy in steamed fish. there is no joy in pranking people, not without you.

glaze lilies bring to mind your love for puns, the way she would wake up every sunday morning with a fresh bouquet and a note pinned to them on her bedside table. her heart splits a little when she eats jueyun chili chicken, because it was your favorite. when it comes around to your birthday, she takes a long bath and cries until her throat is raw and her eyes are red and swollen. on her birthday, despite the party that her friends throw for her, she wonders if you're remembering her the way she remembers you.

xiao |

xiao has never been good with feelings, but he is completely head over heels in love for you. he would sprint in front of a moving train for you. he would stab himself for you. he would rip out his heart for you, except you've done it first.

words shouldn't be able to hurt this much, especially words coming from your mouth, your mouth which usually says, i love you, xiao. except this time, it's saying, maybe we should rethink our relationship. i think we need a break. and he knows that you aren't meaning to hurt him, just trying to move on, just trying to make yourself feel better, but that doesn't console him. he tries to make himself feel angry as you're talking to him, but he can't. it's as if he won't feel anything ever again, just the painful pressure in his head, the ringing of your voice in his ears.

do me a favor and break my nose, or tell me to go away, he screams at you, but just in his head. he loves you, still. he feels like a broken nose would hurt less than this, your patient, sympathetic smile, your cried-out eyes that show that you still care too. you reach for his hand, but he feels like your touch would burn, maybe it would make him shatter into a million pieces like glass. do people do that? do adepti do that? does anything alive do that at all?

he feels like he's drowning, like something's holding his head underwater. it's making your face all fuzzy. or maybe that's the tears in his eyes, or maybe he's tired. maybe he's so tired he's hallucinating the whole thing. but that would be too good to be true, because you're standing up and squeezing his shoulders and walking off.

he guesses that you won't have any more tea dates. and with that, he hurls his cup to the ground and watches it shatter.

raiden shogun |

raiden is unaccustomed to love, which is why it hurts more when you're breaking up with her. she had told you that she wasn't the right person to love, that she could hurt you, that she wasn't perfect. you had kissed her and told her that she was wrong, she was lying, of course she was perfect. despite her protests, she had fallen in love with you; your smile and your chin and your cheeks and your forehead. your hands, which hold hers.

she wants to slap you, make you hurt the way she does. she wants to kill you for how you made her love you and then you're making her stop. but of course, she can't stop. how could she ever not love you? you take her face in your hands and she melts, she slumps away. she tries to deny it to herself (of course you still love her!) but it feels like she's ripping away, like just a small gust of wind could strip her away to her skeleton.

bleakly, in her haze, she wonders if there's someone else. someone else who's stolen your gaze as she once did, who you think about at night and whisper stolen words into their ears. but then she thinks about you, and she realizes that would not be the case. you would be doing it because you would think that she wanted it, that she wanted space.

you kiss her cheek, and she thinks numbly, maybe if she was better at love, this wouldn't happen.

childe |

childe had never thrown himself into love as fervently as he did with yours. you could make him smile when he felt like he was dying, and your laugh had taken up a space in his brain reserved specifically for you.

he loved how the light dappling across your face could bathe you in such an ethereal glow, as if you were blessed by the archons. and, he guessed, sometimes you were. it's uncanny, the way your face showed no emotion as you took his hand and whispered, i think we need a break. his heart had shattered then, into a million pieces that dissolved into his body. maybe he could never fix it.

he stares at you, so blankly, you wonder maybe if he hasn't heard you. then he says, what? so softly, so sadly, it almost splits your soul apart. he thinks, probably, that no one will make him as happy as you did. perhaps he will never be happy again. this thought scares him, it rattles him, he never wants to forget your face.

he's never cried over someone before, but he does now. and the sight of his tears shock you, as if you've been dumped into an ice-cold bath and can't breathe. he's sobbing, hands curled into tight fists, waving you away, telling you to just go, please go, please, please go. you don't want to leave him, but you know his sadness will turn to anger and he will lash out. you press a kiss to his temple and he shouts, fuck off! fuck off and go!

as he watches you go, he thinks that simply "fuck off" might be too kind.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

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how would konig react to reader that cheated…with rando or ghost…(I LIVE FOR ANGST AND CHAOs SRRY)

Anon 😭🥲 You're paying for my therapy ok...?

I don't normally do angst of this level because cheating imagines break my heart. But I guess yandere König is yet again an exception.

TW/CW: EVERYTHING? Seriously, proceed with caution. Heavy angst, murder, suicidal thoughts, broken König

First, there would be total breakdown.

I imagine this kind of scenario would happen when reader has had enough of König's shenanigans and would seek something more normal and sane outside this relationship. Perhaps she finds out she simply can't do this with König anymore, perhaps it was a gradual falling out of love/falling for someone else?

But when she tells him, yeah: mental breakdown. I think this might be one of those few rare things, or the only thing, that would make König cry. But he wouldn't do that in front of reader, no: he would slowly turn to stone as he's being told the news and then he would leave.

Our man would storm out in a silent rage and go somewhere private (his room). His breathing would get out of control, he would pace around and shake from rage, try to cry… but no tears would come. Then he would take his sturdiest knife and punch a wall with it until his hand hurts. He would shout until he barely has a voice left, think about going to the range, think about killing someone, anyone, right this second, not even the one she cheated him with, just the first person he sees in the hall.

A few hot tears would finally come in between the shouting, his knife would be ruined, his fist would be bleeding after he threw the blade away and started punching the wall with his hand instead.

After an hour or so, he would come back and simply ask "Why?" over and over again. He cannot understand why she would throw away the connection that they had. She is the woman who changed his life, she is his everything, they were meant to be.

Then he would leave again, this time to kill whoever reader cheated him with. König would never physically hurt reader, but he would demand to know who the person in question is. She wouldn't get rid of him until he has that information.

Long story short, it would be an absolute shitshow! If and when she broke up with him after that (König would never break up with her, even after she cheated on him), he would eternally yearn for her. She would be the object of his dreams and fantasies, something beautiful and pure and true he had for a while and then lost to someone better. Even killing the man wouldn't help with his pain, because the fact still stands that she wanted someone else than him. Yet again, he wasn't enough.

He would have a lot of suicidal thoughts, and he might voice them to reader (both an actual cry for help and a manipulation tactic to get her back). I think König would be a completely broken man after that, and if reader would want to have anything to do with him, try to continue and mend their relationship, he would be willing to do so... But he would never, ever recover, and his pain and delusions would reach a point where he would want to practically lock her up and tuck her somewhere safe. The tender, gentle aspects of sex would turn into bleak possessiveness, even cruelty, and he might ask reader which positions she and that other man made love, how often, did she like it… And why he wasn't good enough. It would be hell for both of them.

The lack of trust would grow insurmountable and, combined with König's possessiveness (born of deep insecurity), it would be impossible to live a life even remotely close to normal after that.

#answered #yandere könig #könig headcanons #heartbreak warning

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nocturnesmoon · 4 months

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I have thoughts spurring around in my head like feral cats chasing a bouncy ball, and I'm making it everyone's problem.

What if we take the world of star wars, and smash you and the 141 into it.

There are so many different combinations and turns this could take, but what I'm thinking about is the 141, ex-military turned smugglers, and you a Jedi in hiding after order 66.

The clone wars have finally come to its brutal end, and the empire has taken over the known galaxy. The Jedi have been portrayed as traitors and have been promptly executed, and the rest forced into hiding.

It looks bleak for anyone still holding onto the hope of the republic, anyone not willing to adapt to the new world gets destroyed right along with the old.

The 141 being forcefully retired, not that they minded at this point they knew it was a losing fight. With their options limited, and not keen to do the empire's bidding, or anyone's bidding ever again, they chose the obvious choice, to run.

It wasn't the ideal outcome, but with a timer on their lives, and conflicted opinions, Price took charge of the group. He knew that right now survival was the only thing that mattered, that his men would still live to see another day.

The year of acclimating to their new life was rough, they were used to sticking together but they also normally had more direction than this. Being wanted in any area governed by the empire limited a lot of work options for them.

It quite honestly didn't take long before Price resorted to less moral means, it was how their career as smugglers started.

With Gaz's excellent piloting skills, Soap's weaponry and science knowledge, Ghost's brute strength and intimating demeanor, and Price's own smooth tongue and connections, it was the most optimal choice.

And much to the their own surprise, they're pretty damn good at it.

They make good money smuggling a lot of different things across the galaxy, food, weapons, illegal goods. They take almost any job they can get in the start; they don't have time to be picky just yet, they need the credits more than good morals.

Their wanted status is likely to never get alleviated, but they combat it by never settling in one place too long. They prioritize the credits they have and get a ship big enough for both their job and to house the four of them. They're already used to being close, while this is a step further it's nothing any one of them has anything against.

They all agreed that they would stay together, they started this together and they'll end it together.

A few years in they have gotten quite the reputation for themselves, at least among other known smugglers and wanted criminals. They get bigger job opportunities, higher pay, more risk.

The bond they forge between each other is something none of them could explain, but they embrace its qualities, it's comfort and pleasure.

Some things are better to just leave unexplained and enjoy while they last. The only thing they have is each other, and they've grown quite content with that.

That was until something unexpected crash landed into their lives.

Docked at some lesser-known planet in system of farmers, they had originally planned to stop there for a few days to stock up on supplies and look for less likely work opportunities. Farmers sometimes had some strange inquiries they were quite content spending massive amounts of the little credits they have.

It was a peaceful little community, none the wiser to the person hiding amongst them. You, a Jedi who somehow survived the purge of order 66, posing as mechanic. Outside of your Jedi teachings, you had clear proficiency in anything creating and fixing.

It had been the perfect cover during the last year, who would suspect that the innocent mechanic trying to get by would harbor such a grave secret. That the kind person living in the rundown house, would be so full of survivors’ guilt that it was nothing short of a miracle they were still going.

It had roughly been 2 years since order 66, 2 years since you had survived and fled, 2 years on the run from the empire and the usual calm feeling of the force now gone.

Images still fresh on your brain despite the time, of your master, of your friends, those you'd considered your family dying from blasters that once aided them.

Every time you reached out through the force it was now hollow, the echo going into your brain and body, reminding you of the terrifying fact that you were truly alone.

You had no idea why you survived out of everyone, not even a fully trained Jedi, a mere Padawan with few accomplishments to their name. You shouldn't have survived that, someone better should be here in your place, yet no matter how much you think those thoughts, you can't change the reality.

The small farmer planet had been a good hiding spot for quite a while, you even dared to make a few friends during your stay. Despite it being less of a good idea you still kept your blade, the kyber crystal within being the only thing giving you comfort in your grief. Though you hadn't expected to ever need it again, especially not this soon.

Never had you expected that the empire would set their sights here, nor had you expected your methods of hiding had actually been that horrible. It didn't take them longer than a few days ‘til the people you thought friends practically turned you in.

You couldn't find it in your heart to blame them, the empire had very convincing methods, yet it still meant you were forced into a run for your life.

When the 141 had set their sights on this planet they hadn't expected the empire to already be here when they arrived. Price had insisted that the planet was still free, and he was right, a week ago.

They remained inconspicuous, did their shopping, and didn't snoop around too long. There was no need to get the empire hot on their tails once again.

When Ghost and Gaz went into the market, they intended on staying out of trouble, and technically they weren't the ones roped into it.

When they first spotted you, running from a few storm troopers, lightsaber blade raised, they nearly didn't believe their own eyes. All the Jedi were supposed to be dead, yet here you were, a sight to behold.

Nothing about their next actions were ruled by logic, if you ask them later about what they were thinking they couldn't tell you, because the only thing that was a priority now was to help you.

Perhaps it was some sort of obligation, maybe a sliver of hope for something better, or maybe it was just something about you that tugged at them, making them want to protect and help you.

Backed into a cornered alley, almost having lost your pursuers you felt the new threat loom behind you. A technique that was familiar in ways you couldn't explain, and too fast for you to register and counter. You were knocked out cold, and the next time you woke you were on a spaceship in space.

To say that Price was furious with the two was an understatement, they had more or less kidnapped someone unprompted. While Soap found the situation hilarious, he also had a feeling there was way more to this, and a possible danger they could've avoided.

When you wake it's Price that greets you, making sure to establish himself to not be a threat to you, so you didn't do anything drastic. You were on edge, understandably so, but he managed to explain the situation while also avoiding the main topic at hand.

You knew it would come up, he was toying with your lightsaber in his hands while you talked, and no matter how much you stared it down you didn't dare lunge for it yet. The dreaded question, and the answer that people had such varying reactions to.

"You're Jedi?"

You had expected something else when you confirmed to him what you were, what you've been since you could remember. A part of you had expected them to be bounty hunters, ready to turn you over to the empire at a moment’s notice. The reward on your head would be great, you imagine, yet that's not what he does.

He reminisces instead, telling you of a Jedi he once knew, of how he and his men had fought alongside a few of them on special occasions. Never had you imagine that this is where you would end up, in the metaphorical arms of people who could care maybe just a little.

He gave you an offer, they could drop you off at whatever location you requested, or they could work a sort of partnership.

You don't know what to make of it at first. They seem genuine, but people have ratted you out for less. You don't have a lot of options, going somewhere else and trying to find another inconspicuous farming planet wasn't the most viable choice, but neither was bunking with them. Who knew what kind of people they were.

Your chances were not the best, and unfortunately you had a sneaking suspicion they knew that. Whether their intentions were noble or just pity, you decided to take the risk and stay. If it all came crashing down, you'd still have your training, it had gotten you this far, it could get you further.

The first few days you stayed with them was tense, they were all in agreement on keeping you, there was nothing hostile about it, but it was still tense. It was partially your own doing, you walked on eggshells around them, never letting any of them behind you, etc. etc.

They understood to an extent, the way they met you wasn't exactly on the best of terms, it was natural for you to be cautious. So, they let you have your space, they don't pressure you into anything but do try to coax you into a more comfortable environment with them.

The crack starts to form when you see them all gathered in the main area of the ship, laughing, talking, playing a game you're unfamiliar with. Soap is the first to notice you staring, with a big grin on his face he invites you to join them. Hesitant but interested you approach.

Price explains the rules to you, and you get to watch for a round or two before you join in on your own. They go easy on you but you're a quick learner, and it doesn't take long before you become quite vicious in your play.

It becomes a common thing, almost nightly that they all gather to spend time together. The bond between each other grows fast, and it's not long before you start feeling like this is exactly where you're meant to be.

Settling in with them becomes easier and easier, as if they had always waited for another person to welcome in with them. To fill a missing part, they didn't know they needed.

While keeping the secret of what you are is the topmost priority, you end up helping them out on jobs. Due to your training you're very adaptable, able to fill any position where something was missing.

You were an excellent mechanic when the ship was down, and with Gaz's magic touch it halved the time it usually took to repair.

Soap had a really fun time explaining a bunch of different things about weaponry and the science behind it. There had been a lot of different questions you had in the clone wars that was left unanswered, you could finally have someone enthusiastic that could explain them to you.

A lot of long rides were spent like that, of you asking him questions and then more questions because the math he talked about in the first question was confusing.

Even though you were just a Padawan back then, you still had made your fair share of connections during the clone wars. People that you and your old master had come across, and old friends outside of the Jedi order.

Price found it very useful, and though most of the connections you had were friendship and not business, it could still be used as such. A few of them he even helped rekindle, you've been grateful for that ever since.

Though the Jedi order is no more you still try to keep up with your training. You have no guidance any longer, nothing new to look at, but you can maintain what you know.

The others are happy to help you with it as well, they know it's important to you and a part of them have always found it fascinating how you train.

Occasionally you'd have them all surround you in a circle, setting their blasters to stun and randomly shooting at you. It helped sharpening your senses, helped you rely on the force to guide your hand, and to deflect more accurately.

You'd do a lot of training with Ghost that wasn't necessarily Jedi training. While you did a lot of mental training on your own, the physical part was something Ghost had a lot of enjoyment in helping you with.

Sparring, running, lifting, anything he could think of that would help you, he did, and it quickly became thing for you two to train together.

It wasn't anything you had expected with them, not in a million years would you have imagined ending up here. It was a thing you couldn't predict, but neither was order 66.

Nobody you knew had been able to foresee the collapse of the Jedi order. Some things were just left up to chance, and currently here with the 141, you liked your odds.

I just finished reading the book project hail mary, and not too long ago i reread the Ahsoka book. So safe to say i've been in a bit of a space mood, still am.

And what better way to utilize that, than combine my hyperfixation on the 141 and my special interest star wars hehe.

#noctmoon fics #star wars #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #tf141 x reader #poly tf141 #tf 141 #star wars x cod au

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