#well spoiler they are not they are so stupid and they are just trying to hurt me when i'm deperately trying to stay away from all this shit

[senpa10]

A small spoiler of what else I need to draw-

But due to the fact that I have so many ideas that sometimes I just cut into drawing new things, forgetting about the old ones, and because of this I am stupid and forgetful, I hope you will forgive me for this. And I marked with numbers what I will try to finish in turn-

Well, because I'm slow as a snail-

#art #my art #spoilers #funny #silly #cute #my ocs #artists on tumblr #spooky month #russia #mouse rat #slow #photoshop #ibispaintx #:3

[phantom-of-the-501st]

We've Taken Different Paths and Travelled Different Roads

New fic? New Fic. 😙 A series of snapshots throughout the lives of the Domino Twins

@saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings

SPOILERS FOR TBB INCLUDED

"KRIFF! Not again."

"Echo, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Doesn't seem like you are, vod. Is it getting too much?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"YES!"

"You know, it's okay to admit that you're not doing too good. Therapeutic even. It's nothing to be embarrassed about, we all have our weaknesses. I just didn't realise yours would be a paintbrush."

"Fives, if you don't shut your mouth I will push you out of the top bunk while you're sleeping. Again."

Fives let out a dramatic gasp and clutched at his chest. "Rude! I'm just trying to help you out. If you're struggling that much-"

"I am not struggling. I just can't get this kriffing line straight..."

"Sounds like you're struggling to me."

"FIVES!"

"Hey, no need to get grouchy, vod. You're just jealous that my armour came out so flawless." Fives leant back on his hands, a smug expression on his face. Echo glanced at Fives' armour, which was laid out to dry, and his eyes fell on the tribute to Hevy.

"You made a spelling mistake."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No I did not." Fives picked up the piece in question. "You're just mad that you can't get your lines stra- KRIFF!"

Echo laughed.

_._._._._._._

"I won that one!"

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did!"

"Fives, that was an illegal move. If anything, that should get you disqualified."

"No illegal moves on the battlefield, Echo. I mean, what you gonna do in a fight? Stare a separatist down and tell them that they're disqualified from the war?"

"We're not on the battlefield, Fives. We're having a sparring match in a training room. And that was an illegal move." Echo went to the bench for a drink and to rewrap his hands. Fives was bouncing from one foot to the other on the training mat.

"You're just mad that you lost."

Echo rolled his eyes. "Illegal move, Fives. Illegal move."

"Sore loser, Echo. Sore loser."

Echo turned to stare his brother down, unimpressed. Fives just grinned back, still hopping about.

"Come on, vod. One more round. I might even let you win this time."

Stars, Echo wanted to punch his brother in the face sometimes. "Fine, one more round. But no cheating!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Fives and made his way towards the mat. Bracing his feet against the floor, and bringing his fists up, Echo tilted his head. "Shall you count down or shall I?"

"I will! Okay, five, four, three, two-" Both of their comms beeped from the bench.

Bringing themselves back to a normal stand, the two made their way back to their armour, Echo picking up his comm as soon as he reached the pile. "It's a message from Rex. He wants a meeting with us. Something about a rescue mission."

"Well," Fives said cheerfully, gathering his things "better not keep the boss waiting!"

_._._._._._._

"I'm sorry for shouting at you."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I shouldn't have been so harsh. It's just..."

"Fives, it's okay. I promise you."

Fives sighed and curled up on himself even more. "I just miss him, ya know?"

Rex came to sit next to his brother on the floor. It was cold and definitely not comfortable, but Fives didn't look like he was going anywhere any time soon. "I know, vod'ika. I know." He put his arm around his shoulders. "I miss him too. And I get why you're angry. It's not fair. Nobody deserved this, let alone Echo."

"I'm just so mad at him." Fives clenched his fists and let out a shaky breath. "I shouldn't be, but I am. After everything we went through, after losing our squad, we promised each other we'd always be there. Always.

"And maybe it was stupid. No... it was stupid. We're in a kriffing war. It was a stupid promise to make." Fives tilted his head more towards the floor. "But I'm still angry at him for breaking it. Why did he have to run, Rex? Why?"

A sigh. "Because it's Echo. He'll always put others before himself, even if it means risking his own life. He'll always be there for the people that need him."

"But I need him." Fives said. The expression on his face was enough to break Rex's already shattered heart a billion times over. The look in his eyes was pleading, desperate, so painfully childlike. "I need him, Rex. And he's not here."

_._._._._._._

"Do you think there's anything after death?"

"Stars, Fives! Bit of a heavy question isn't it?"

Jesse took a swig of his drink and stared at his brother, who was sat on the other side of the table, looking nowhere in particular.

"I'm just asking. We're all gonna die at some point and it'd be nice to know what comes next."

"This is about Echo isn't it?"

Fives looked at Jesse, expression unusually blank. "I didn't say it was about Echo."

"But it is, isn't it?" It had been months at this point, but no-one could blame Fives for still dwelling on it every now and again. Echo and him were inseparable, you never found one without the other unless something went seriously wrong. The only time they'd be apart would be if it was forced (or if one finally got so sick of the other's antics they had be away for a few hours, even if for the sake of everyone in their vicinity). So for Fives to be left without Echo...

Fives looked down at his own bottle, swirling it gently. "Sometimes..." His hand stopped. "Sometimes I wonder if he's still there somewhere, watching."

Jesse understood. Every clone had felt that way at one point; once you lost that many brothers, part of you always hoped they never truly left, that you would find them again someday.

Fives went back to swirling his drink. "What do you think he'd say?"

"What do I think Echo would say?"

"Right now. What do you think he would say?"

"I'd think he'd say 'Fives, you shouldn't be drinking this much the day before a major training session, you idiot.' And then drag you home."

"I meant about the death thing."

"Okay, well I'd think he'd say "Fives, stop thinking about kriff like this. This is why you shouldn't be drinking this much the day before a major training session, you idiot.' And then still drag you home."

Fives let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds about right." He took a swig from the bottle. "I just really need to see him again."

Jesse softened slightly. He knew Fives needed someone to joke with him every now and again, especially when he was down, and he would always be that person, but he also knew that his brother was hurting. He would always be haunted by what happened at the Citadel. "I'm sure you will, vod."

"Really?" Fives stared at him.

"Yes." Jesse knocked back the last of his drink and stood up. "But not right now. I'm gonna take you back to the barracks before you give yourself alcohol poisoning. Kix is still mad at you for the last time you got too drunk."

"I didn't mean to throw up on his helmet!" Fives pushed himself up. "It was his own fault for leaving it on the floor."

_._._._._._._

"I just hope they're back together again."

"I know, Rex. I know. And I'm sure they are, causing as much havoc as they did when they were here." A small smile crossed Cody's face at the thought of those poor souls who finally thought they had found peace being made to deal with a couple of rascals in blue and white paint. "If anything, they're probably causing even more trouble. The entirety of Domino Squad, including two ARCs? It doesn't bear thinking about."

That got a laugh from the Captain. "Can you imagine Wolffe having to deal with that?"

"He'd defy all odds and come back from the dead if he was confronted with that lot."

The two sat there laughing. They'd decided not to go back to their camp, instead choosing to sit and watch the sun set on the horizon. It was calm, quiet, the most peaceful it had been in a long time. And they knew it wouldn't be for long. They had another mission to set out for tomorrow, but right now, in this moment, everything was still.

"How long do you think it would've taken Fives to try and climb that?" Rex pointed at a large, sprawling tree not too far from where they were sat. "I reckon he'd run at it the second he saw it."

"Yeah, he would. And then Echo would go storming off after him, muttering every curse word in the book, and threaten to drag his hide back to camp."

"You say that, but I can guarantee someone would've gone looking for them later and found both of them hanging out on a branch, ignoring all of their responsibilities."

An idea struck Cody.

"Race you up the tree."

Rex stared at him, wide-eyed. "Ya what?"

"Race you up that tree."

"What?! Why?! We're supposed to be the mature ones here, vod! We can't just go careening off into the forest to climb a tree!"

"Who says we can't? Our generals are currently elsewhere." Cody's eyes glinted with a mischievousness Rex hadn't seen since they were kids. "And you know Echo and Fives would've loved this."

"Which is exactly why it's a terrible idea!" Rex said frantically. "All plans that those two loved should never be touched with a hundred foot pole, let alone attempted!"

"Come on, vod. I thought you of all people would be a little more lenient than that. It'll be fun." Cody got up and brushed the dust off his legs. "Unless you're scared of getting caught."

Rex was silent, thinking. Cody knew he was winning. Just a little more pushing...

"Never thought I'd see the day that Captain Rex would give up and-"

"Oh you are on!" Cody watched Rex launch himself towards the tree, before sprinting after him, cackling.

With the wind in his face, and the dirt kicking up beneath thundering feet, he hoped that, wherever they were, the Domino Twins were laughing, revelling in the chaos of their two superiors barrelling through shrubs for a race up a tree. They deserved that extra laugh at least.

_._._._._._._

Rex couldn't believe it. After all this time. After all the mourning and the grief and the rage... Echo was alive.

Echo had been taken to be looked over as soon as they got back to Kamino, but Rex could still see him, clear as day. Pale, cold. Metal ports all over, pulling at the skin. Limbs fused to composite and wires and things no human should be bound to. So very different from the Echo that Rex remembered. But so very alive.

Everything hurt. Yes, they'd found one of their brothers, Echo, and had managed to bring him back home. But it hurt. It hurt to know that they had left him behind. It hurt to know that he had spent endless rotations in a constant state of torture. It hurt to know that Echo would never be able to go back to the man he once was.

And it hurt to know that Fives never knew.

Fives was gone. He died thinking he was the last Domino standing, died thinking that he would be reunited with all of his brothers, with Echo... but Echo was right here. Fives never knew that his brother lived. And he would never know.

They should've been reunited. The pain and grief Rex had seen in Fives was too much to think about. The way he had collapsed, screaming, and fallen asleep simply out of pure exhaustion after returning from the Citadel. They should never have been separated. And despite bringing Echo back, Rex had to fight the ever-looming shadow that was the knowledge that he would never be able to bring the two back together. A forever-fractured whole held in pieces by the gaping chasm of death. There was no way to bridge that gap, not without Echo being lost again.

And it hurt. In a situation that should have brought so much joy, it hurt. Because Echo knew.

Rex didn't have to say anything. Echo just knew. When he saw that Fives wasn't there to get him, it fell into place. There was no way his brother wouldn't have been there for him. Not unless he was gone. And in some ways it was worse. There was no screaming, or crying, or shouting as there had been with Fives. Simply silence. A silence so deafening that Rex had almost wished, almost begged, for Echo to break down. Because he could see the wound inside Echo grow wider and there was nothing he could do to close it.

It hurt. It hurt to know that Echo knew. To know that after coming back from all of that, all he went through, his home was gone, destroyed, brought to rubble by the simple fact that his other half wasn't there. Echo would never be the same after Skako Minor.

And he certainly wouldn't be the same without Fives.

_._._._._._._

"He should be here. After everything he did, he deserved to be here, fighting alongside us."

It was dark and Rex and Echo had hunkered down inside to escape the biting wind and lashing rain outside. Echo was due to go back to the Batch the following day and help them rescue Omega and the other clones from Tantiss, so the two had taken some time to just sit down and rest.

Rex knew it was going to be a rough night. There was too much going on to get any decent level of sleep, and Echo had hit the point where he was once again thinking about his lost brother. Rex couldn't blame him. It was hard not to think about Fives at a time like this.

"I mean, he was the one who found out about the chips in the first place. None of us would be here if it wasn't for him. He deserves to bring the whole system down." Echo was wound up, like a tightly coiled spring, and Rex was just waiting for something to snap. Whether it was now, or tomorrow, in a few rotations time, he didn't know. But he knew that Echo would snap eventually, and whoever was on the receiving end of that blind rage would not have a good time. That was something Rex was certain about.

"You're right." Rex responded. "He should be here. And I'm forever angry that he never got the chance to see this. But you know who is here?" Echo glanced at him. "Us. And if anyone can carry on his legacy, it's us, especially you."

His brother didn't say anything, simply turning to stare ahead of him.

The Captain continued. "I see him in you sometimes. Now more than ever." He chuckled. "You used to be the rule follower, the one who would try and keep Fives somewhat in check. Now I see you running around causing just as much mayhem as he used to. I've seen Jawas with weaker thieving skills than I've seen from you over the last few weeks!" He could see a smile tugging at the edge of Echo's lips.

"Just keeping you on your toes, old man."

"Hey now! I try telling you how proud I am and you give me even more grey hairs." Rex rolled his eyes. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You were trying to tell me you were proud?"

"Yes!" Rex said with exasperation.

"You called me a thief." Echo's expression was blank but the Captain could see the twinkle in his eye. He was messing with him.

"Yes. And I was about to tell you how proud I was of your thievery but I'm not going to anymore."

"Are you mad that I called you old?"

"No."

"You're mad aren't you?" Rex should've been annoyed but when he saw the cheeky grin across his younger brother's face he couldn't help but melt.

Yep. Definitely like Fives.

"You'll be the death of me some day."

"I better not be," Echo said, slightly more serious. "People here need you."

"And they need you as well. I may outrank you Echo, and I may have more experience, but you are more than capable and you have proved yourself more than enough. We need you in this fight. We can't do it without you. I can't do it without you."

Echo had started to drift again. Rex could see it. "I just feel like I'm taking his place. That he should be here instead of me."

"You both deserve to be here." Rex put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You deserve to be here just as much as he does. You aren't taking his space vod'ika. Never forget that."

Echo gave him a small smile.

"I'm proud of you."

"I thought you said weren't going to tell me-"

"Fives would be proud of you."

Echo froze. Rex held his gaze firm, grip on his shoulder tightening.

"Go out there tomorrow and do what you do, vod'ika. We'll be with you every step of the way. Both of us."

Teary eyed, Echo glanced away and swallowed. They sat in silence for a few minutes, processing. Tomorrow was going to be difficult. It was going to be a push. But Rex knew his brother was more than capable. He just hoped and prayed he didn't lose him again.

Rex wasn't sure how he'd ended up in the position where he could lose one of the twins for a third time, but here he was. There was only so much time you could keep those two apart, and Rex knew that time was ticking down. For now he just hoped that it wouldn't be tomorrow.

Echo had started picking at the paint on his pauldron. The colour had started to chip away, but the orange still held some of its vibrancy. "You know..." Echo said, not looking up from the armour "Fives would be laughing at me right now."

Rex raised an eyebrow, confused. "And why would that be?"

Echo pointed at the wobble between the orange and white "Because I still can't paint the kriffing lines straight."

#another fic! #aren't you a lucky bunch #my brain seems to be running atm which is fun #I only ever intended for this to be like three snapshots #but I kept getting ideas #so enjoy #the bad batch #the clone wars #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb echo #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #the domino twins #captain rex #commander cody #jess #Spotify

[000marie198]

...

Permission to smack Sonic over the head?

#don't get me wrpng. i love him. he's my son #but... he is being... SO DARN STUPID #like bro. this isn't how you'll convince him #i know u mean well but this isn't the correct way to do what you're trying to do it'll just make things worse #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #miles tails prower #nine the fox #prime sonic #tails nine #sonic prime sonic #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #sonic prime s3 spoilers #sonic prime s3 #sonic prime season 3 #sonic prime season three #sonic liveblog

[fellhalcyon]

“so, are we... like that?” “yes.”

eternal yesterday, ep3.

#as i did the last gif i noticed the little mouth thing they both do in tandem #the little kind of lips-tucked-in trying-to-contain-a-huge-stupid-grin thing #and i just !!! #i simply cannot handle this!!! #when i tell you this scene made me so fkn happy #even with the very hesitant barely-there kiss #because it tracks! it's pretty clearly mitsuru's first kiss and could very well be koichi's too! #(i know when i kissed someone for the first time i literally punched them. in the mouth. with my mouth #which was not nearly as funny or as cute as the tsundere memes make it sound) #they're just so SOFT for each other #they are so GONE #emotional chemistry through the ROOF #also: does it rain this much in japan for real #eternal yesterday #eternal yesterday ep3 #eternal yesterday spoilers #eien no kino #koichi x mitsuru #yamada koichi #oumi mitsuru #eternal yesterday my beloved #eternal yesterday gifset

[shorthaltsjester]

nothing more morally reprehensible than a cleric (checks notes) using the key features of their class…? surely that can’t be where we are regarding analysis of character actions in cr at this point.

#also like. fcg already cast turn undead around laudna he knew it wouldn’t destroy her. #like fcg does make fucked up choices fairly often but the cleric desiring to cast turn undead when there are many undead creatures isn’t one #also like. yes fcg was a shithead about it w his respect the gods comments but. very very specifically laudna Has been starting shit #in every convo even tangentially related to the gods laudna is the one who without clear motive goes Well What If Gods Bad Actually #which. sure . if u had a clear reason i’d be happy to follow the trail. i’d think it’s still a dumb claim but yk #like the few times when fearne has brought it up it’s been prodding the ideas the Others have in response #and when imogen has it’s been certainly self centered but that means it’s evidently motivated whereas with laudna it’s like. it seems like #she’s just trying to stir shit up which I Would Love if we got context for the Why #laudna is just as responsible for any situation where her and fcg are disagreeing as fcg would be . because they’re Both disagreeing #also of interesting note but. fearne and fcg are much more in the midst of an obvious disagreement. fearne is a changebringer Hater™ . #anyway my point is that a lot of fcg’s character at the moment is being a weirdo about religion so . don’t be shocked when he’s a weirdo #and also. it’s so so fucking stupid to see (jester voice) The Cleric™ cast turn undead and decide it’s more about interpret conflict #than it is. fcg has a very specific build that can be pretty restrictive in terms of beneficial battle actions. let them use turn undead #cr spoilers #cr tag

[problemduetest4life]

The Merchant’s Man

*struggling to get thru the chapter*

v.s.

The Dragontamer

“I want to go back to Yronwood and kiss both of your sisters, marry Gwyneth Yronwood, watch her flower into beauty, have a child by her. I want to ride in tourneys, hawk and hunt, visit my mother in Norvos, read some of those books my father sends me. I want Cletus and Will and Maester Kedry to be alive again”

*something is up*

“And then a hot wind buffeted him and he heard the sound of leathern wings and the air was full of ash and cinders and a monstrous roar went echoing off the scorched and blackened bricks and he could hear his friends shouting wildly. Gerris was calling out his name, over and over…”

“When he raised his whip, he saw that the lash was burning. His hand as well. All of him, all of him was burning.

Oh, he thought. Then he began to scream”

*accepting his death*

Wait! He’s not dead yet!

He’s in mortal agony with only Missandei at his side

Bonus!! Ser Archibalds also having burns from putting out the flames with his bare hands

#I’m not dealing well with the sending of ADWD #spoilers btw #so many deaths #quentyn was just trying to be a hero #stupid #ADWD #quentyn martell #a dance with dragons #ser Archibald

[carmarriage]

i chose zexal btw

#literally stared at that post for a solid 3 mins trying to decide. absolutely agonizing #gx is really fun but zexals plot is better imo. and since its newer its generally better to look at as well #and nothing on this planet will ever be more iconic than keyshipping it cant be done #AND LIKE i wasnt kidding when i said i got crazy invested that shit had me SCREAMINGGGG at the vector reveal #cus i was livetweeting my first watchthru at the time and i happened to see a spoiler that was like #something about zexal having ''aliens that possess the bodies of dead kids'' #and i had ALSO already been spoiled a little bit for vector so i was like ohhh thats gonna be the deal huh #IT WASNT...... IT WAS A DIFFERENT THING...... #that enhanced my viewing experience like 10x lmao #maybe its cuz ive only ever seen gx dubbed but i never had that big of a reaction to anything that happened in it. its all so unserious #arc v was also kinda in consideration bc its like. arc vs premise is sooo cool #and it was also the series i started watching while it was still airing so it had a different Flavor #but man.... arc vs ending was so doodoo dogshit it kinda soured the rest of the series for me in retrospect LOL #and ive only ever seen 20-30 eps of 5ds and vrains so i cant really make a judgement #but i remember really liking 5ds i just havent gotten around to continuing yet #i didnt like vrains as much LOL the design of the stupid vrchat village world disappointed me so much i stopped keeping up with it #but i enjoyed what i saw of yusaku i thought he was really funny. 16 yo serious hackerman. i love it #thank you for reading htis. manifesto. i dunno what this is. kattobingu

[lonelywhalien22]

xo kitty final post of thoughts (I promise) in the tags below if anyone cares and then imma dissapear into the void again and go back to trying to write my own sh-t lol 😆

#someone needs to draw up a relationship chart for this d@mn show #bc wtf it was actually too much even for the messy dramatic in me #like the amount of possible relationships in this short series of 10 30 min episodes covers like - #2-3 seasons worth of relationship permutations in like your standard american tv show lol #*xo kitty spoilers after this tag* #dae and juliana deserved better. #still trying to understand how kitty fell for someone who was a literal antagonist in the first half of the show - #and did so many hurtful things to her #like??? it didn't feel like enemies to lovers it just felt straight up antagonistic lol #not to mention i feel like constant interruption/straight up miscommunication got in the way of kitty and dae actually talking through - #the stupid conflict in the first part of the show #and i hate when that's used as a plot device too much - it becomes a crutch imo #did i mention that the fake dating plot just...didn’t hit for me #like they're fake dating but yuri was committed to the act in a way that made no sense considering her initial motivations 🧐 #like eye - #and minho was meh - i didn’t hate him by the end #but there was no need to make him interested in kitty as well that just seemed random af to me too ngl #how are you suddenly in love bro you just met her and yall weren’t even spending time like that on the regular??? #wished they'd spent more time addressing the loneliness he clearly feels with having a celebrity mom #and how he overcompensates for it by being overly committed/attached to his friends and their lives and parties and flings... #but anyways - #also wished dae just got more background with his family and money situation. #i enjoyed when he was on screen and would have liked to see more #but d@mn did he get shoved to the side in this story lol #best part was prob family drama with alex yuri's mom and professor snape lol #and q and florian. loved them <3 #juliana was in this for all of maybe like 9 minutes total lol like wtf ik she was sent away but damn 😂 #in 2023's internet age she and yuri couldn’t find each other despite their parent's involvement??? #anyways - thank you for coming to my ted talk #this review is so unserious just ranting for fun so don't take it too seriously unless you agree then send me comments bc wtf was this lol

[glitter50000]

bitches be getting so happy watching the darkling being portrayed as a villain and a toxic lover. It’s me, I’m bitches

#I won with this season in so many ways #Like just watching him be all fucked up and evil I loved seeing it #I love watching his POV and agreeing with him sometimes but also just being like “you bitch” as well #And the way how he was with Alina made my hair stand up as it should and I’m glad it did #I dunno it’s just more fun to me to see him as a villain cause then those moments of humanization really just shine through for me #And I just never really liked when ppl would say how he wasn’t one just because of his cause or his past #And I agree it’s not for his cause that he’s a villain but his actions instead #The thing is saying he’s not a villain is like erasing all the ugly traits he has when those traits help make up his character to me #Like he wanted to help and he wants love but he’s clingy he’s needy he’s lonely he’s delusional he’s got little to none morals he’s tired #He’s fucking pissed he’s possessive cause he had nothing and he’s saying fuck this country actually #It’s having more then 400 years of vengeance and hatred just boiling in you because you saw the worst this country offered #It’s him being like “you are going to like what I am doing for us even if I have to shove it down your stupid throat” #It’s how he was a good person and he was trying to help at one point but overtime it just became “my way is the right way and the ONLY way” #He uses fear because it’s easier and he was taught long long ago that it’s a powerful ally #but something he forgot is that use it too much and now it’s a double edge sword #sab spoilers #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone season 2 #aleksander morozova #Does this make sense? #Like it’s not JUST Ravka’s corrupt system that made him who he is it’s himself as well so to say he isn’t a villain or an antagonist or #that it’s just Ravka’s fault is I dunno I guess erasing his part and his choices to me in doing this #Like the whole thing is that he doesn’t want redemption nor does he ask to be forgiven

[rosemary-sins]

dr bitchter

#petal down #swearing cw #tw cursing #tot #look hes an interesting guy but i am also Bitter. im so bitter #sir just. you do realize the fact that waxing poetic isnt gonna like. advance your love life right #look rosas at fault too for being a dumbass but her case of dumbassery isnt helped by the fact that he jsut waxes poetic and sounds like a #coughs anyways vyns all like 'get therapy' well sir why dont you get some bitches first #hes doing psychoanalysis bullshit in the middle of a forest w people trying to murder them like okay sir thank you #tot spoilers #tears of themis #tears of themis spoilers #i can admire his dramatics but also like kfjsdjfnsfsf.... SIR. SIR...... #i cant even dislike him either like its fun to make fun of him and i cant even dislike the way he is #hes less incel objectifying women and more 'my experience w love has only been w dramatic ass stage plays and novelas so maybe this will ge #'get her to fall in love w me if i start reciting the phantom of the opera or somethign i am so cool teehee' #hes so stupid i cant hate him lmao #anyways Doctor Bitchter #i literally have a final today why am i awake

[mandycantdecide]

i thought 911 returned last night and got excited that i could watch it later after work but no it's on tonight so i have to wait until tomorrow

#i mean if i found a good site for tonight maybe I'll watch #but i jate the buffering and all the stupid ads so I'm just going to wait until tomorrow #it's available online after it airs so i may as well waot #i'll try to avoid spoilers until then but we'll see lmao #hate*** #wait***

[chainreh]

they halfbaked every single infinite wealth villain so they could put all their energy into cooking with the gaiden villains‼️

#lad 8 spoilers #←i guess. spoilers the villains are bad lol #okay well theyre not bad. i think bryce is fine and eiji would be better if there wasnt like. a missing scene/chapter. #but ebina dwight and wong tou all kinda :/ #theres yamai i guess who is the best character ever!!!!!!! but hes more antihero than villain i think #i feel like my problem with ebina is that 1. they gave him that stupid evil laugh which they also gave to eiji #i feel like i personally would have preferred it if they kept him like cool and collected and pragmatic? ish #and 2. the brother plot line was really stupid. i get they were trying to parallel the nishiki/kiryu dynamic but it just feels so random #also ig arakawa was sleeping with another woman at the same time as the one true love of his life which is. something? #anyway. sorry i love infinite wealth so much don't take this as me hating the game its good 👍

[l13]

♡ uh-huh ♡

thinking about pussy drunk!miguel who agrees to everything you say as long as you keep fucking him like that<33

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ ONLY, SPOILERS? i guess?, NO use of y/n f!reader, rough unprotected sex, riding, swearing, ooc!miguel probably, messy & lazy writing you already know:)), not proofread

a/n : it's been a LOOONG time since I wrote smut so please keep in mind that it's gonna be trash LMFAO (also i know i have a ton of requests in my inbox but i couldn't help myself with this man, this just came to me)

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.

banner credit : @cafekitsune

“Miguel, are you even listening to me?” you pout down at him, the rolling of your hips never stopping.

“Shit-not particularly no.” he hisses when he feels you squeeze around him, and you run your hands up and down his chest as you tilt your head. “Miles has a point y'know. Maybe you should hear him out.”

Miguel is so lost at the feel of your pussy that he can hardly hear anything beside the sound of skin meeting skin, and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He can barely keep his eyes open, but he forces himself just to watch your pretty cunt swallow up his cock greedily, his mouth open and brows furrowed prettily.

“Miguel!” you whine out both in exasperation and pleasure, and he groans out your own name lowly, raising his hips to meet the rolls of your own. “Just like that, bebita, s'fucking good f'r me..”

“You're still-fuck- not listening…” you moan, grinding down at him, feeling tears gather in your eyes when you see Miguel lick the pad of his thumb, eyes hooded and so fucking dumb, just to bring his hand to your clit and rub figure eights messily. 

“How can I? Pussy's squeezing me so well- mierda.. y're killin' me,” he clamps a hand on your hip to help guide you against his cock, his other messing up his hair as he runs it through his damp locks, sweat running down his eyebrow. 

He lets out the prettiest moan when he looks up at you, having half the mind to bend you over and rail you till he's given you everything. You, with your perfect tits bouncing with each roll and grind of your hips, paired with that teasing smile of yours, is enough to make a grown man cry.

“Gimme a kiss,” he utters, and you grin as you lower yourself, your tits getting squished against his chest. He grabs the side of your head, your breathing mixing together as you come impossibly close. Just as your lips are about to touch, you pull back the slightest bit and his eyebrows give the slightest twitch.

“Are you gonna give Miles a chance?” he groans and pushes his head away childishly, “Can you please not talk about that kid when we're fucking? Jesus.” 

You slow the rolls of your hips, before coming to a full stop, your shoulders shaking as you laugh against his neck. “I didn’t hear a no..” you raise your head to catch his gaze, to find that he’s purposefully not meeting your eyes, jaw locked stubbornly. 

“No. Now can we please go back to you riding me? That’d be great.”

“Well, you’re not listening to me, so why should I?”

“Are you serious? We really gonna do this? Now?”

You shrug, clamping down on him suddenly, and he sputters, cock pulsing appreciatively. “That’s not fair.” he grits his teeth.

“What’s not fair is wanting to save your loved ones but being told no by some ridiculous universal rule that-mmf” your rambling gets cut off as Miguel kisses you, thrusting up at you hard. His tongue muffles your moans as he continues pistoning his cock in and out of your pussy, keeping you in place with a hand on your ass.

“You know why I can’t, bebita, don’t make me do this..” he hisses out, trying to concentrate on fucking you till you forget all about that stupid kid. 

“What if- oh fffuck,” you moan, eyes rolling back as he keeps hitting that one spot deep inside your pussy, “What if it was me?” your question seems to catch him off guard as he halts all movements “What?”

Miguel knew the consequences of his actions, and he’d learned them the hard way. He wasn’t heartless, he knew what that kid was going through was hard, and it was about to become a lot worse. You asking him to put you in that situation, even if it was imaginary, made his mind short-circuit. He couldn’t lose you, ever. But he also knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. This was bigger than you and him. The whole multiverse as you know it would be at stake. But he’d find a way. He’d find a way for you. If there was a way, then maybe… he could try to hear Miles out. (he hated himself for even admitting that inside his head)

“Wouldn’t you try to save me baby?” with his concentration slipping, you got the chance to take back full control, as you started bouncing on his cock at a bruising pace, “Save this pussy?” the whimper Miguel let out was a good enough answer, but you were greedy. “Huh, baby?”

“Uh-huh, yeah.. ffuck yes, would turn the whole world upside down f’r you…. Please, Oh fuck please, just keep fuckin’ me like that…” the sounds coming out of him turned feral- and he didn’t even realize you positioned his hands over your tits, till he squeezed the supple flesh in his hands and moaned, the muscles in his arms flexing violently.

“Yeah? Not gonna let me go, baby?” you laugh giddily, leaning back to support yourself with your hands on his thick thighs, circling your hips as he’s balls deep inside you.

His hands slide around your back when he sits up suddenly, and you gasp, clawing at his shoulders for support, and he snarls “Never.”

The pace you both set has both of you panting and moaning uncontrollably, with you grinding your hips down to meet his each time he thrusts up, his fat balls slapping your ass every single time.

“Who knows,” you feel Miguel utter against your hair, “maybe I’d let the whole fuckin’ universe collapse for you, cariño..” A shiver runs down your spine and you throw your head back and moan. He chuckles breathlessly, groaning when he feels you clamp around him impossibly tight. “Shit, that’s bad, huh? Maybe I should change careers-fuck,”

“Are you gonna come, baby? Cause ‘m coming for you, gonna fill you up so well,”

2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

#miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #l13 #spiderman across the spiderverse fic #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara x reader smut #miguel ohara x reader smut #smut #across the spiderverse smut #across the spiderverse fic #miguel x reader #miguel x reader smut #spiderman across the spiderverse smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x y/n

[awearywritersworld]

men are so quick to blame the gods

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night. w/c: 2.6k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst/fluff. aged up!yuuji. sa is mentioned but it's pretty much just sukuna saying he doesn't condone it. heavy kissing. obvi features yuuji x reader but it's not at all the focus. cursing. sukuna calls you kitten. i'd like to think he's not too ooc in this but im probably delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: am i rehabbing our handsome vicious psychopath? yes<3 loosely inspired by this post (features manga spoilers) of him being v beautiful and poetic series masterlist // masterlist

humans have always irritated the king of curses— pathetic little vermin scurrying around, utterly oblivious to their own weakness.

so it came as quite a shock to him when he awoke after over a millenia, only to find himself trapped inside the body of some teenaged brat.

nearly 7 years later and he's positive there isn't a person he despises more in the universe. not even the cocky six eyes wielder can elicit sukuna's fury the way itadori yuuji so easily does.

that's why he resolved early on to kill his vessel's pretty little girlfriend, an act he hopes might satiate his spite. he's positive nothing would devastate yuuji more.

luckily for you, life has a funny way of working.

you and yuuji are standing at an intersection in the city, the pink-haired man staring at his phone as he tries to piece together the directions to a new sushi restaurant you've been wanting to try.

when the pedestrian sign on the other side of the street blinks, you step out onto the pavement without checking for oncoming traffic.

"what the-" yuuji's confused voice fills your ears just as a rough hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward violently.

a car barrels through the spot you'd just been standing, the driver clearly not paying attention to the traffic signal. you look back just in time to see harsh black marks fading from your boyfriend's arm, though the rest of his body has seemingly remained unblemished.

it's an odd sensation for yuuji because he's never lost control to sukuna in such a manner. he doesn't dwell on it long though, as anger blossoms in his chest.

"do not touch her," he scolds the curse occupying his body.

a mouth appears on his cheek and scoffs. "sure. i'll just let her die next time."

"it's okay, yu," you interject before he can retaliate. "thanks, sukuna. i, uh, appreciate it."

he grumbles something incomprehensible, his mouth quickly disappearing. your boyfriend looks at you bemused, but you only shrug. the fact that yuuji had lost control to sukuna doesn't make you feel nervous or threatened. you're grateful that he kept you from being run over, albeit a bit surprised.

as you continue your walk to the the sushi restaurant, you find yourself not quite able to meet yuuji's eye because... well... you haven't exactly been forthright regarding your relationship with the king of curses.

the first night it happens, you're laying in bed eagerly finishing the final volume of a manga you've been reading. yuuji is fast asleep and has been for hours, though you're used to being the night owl in the relationship.

you keep wiping at your eyes, the cheerful ending tugging at your heartstrings and tying the story together in a beautiful way.

"can you stop with your incessant sniveling? this idiot's brain is so rarely quiet and you're ruining it."

you look over to see the eye beneath your boyfriend's is open, staring at you scornfully.

"can you fuck off?" your tone is obviously meant to mock him. "i'm finishing one of my favorite mangas and you're ruining it."

"need i remind you of your place, brat?" he sneers. "it's dreadfully wretched, crying because you don't like the ending to some stupid story."

"since you're so clearly invested, i'll have you know i'm crying because i do like it."

"..and here i thought you couldn't get any more pathetic."

your eye twitches in annoyance. "just because you're mad about being stuck in 'some idiot human's body' doesn't mean you have to go around projecting your feelings of inadequacy onto other people."

you move your hand to cover the mouth on your boyfriend's cheek before sukuna can respond, hissing out in pain just a moment later.

"oh my god, you actually bit me." you inspect the teethmarks on your palm in disbelief.

"just wait until i win control of this body— the punishment you deserve for such insolence. you'd better hope you're miles away, but even then—"

"holy shit, enough already. i'll go to sleep. enjoy your peace and quiet," you growl angrily, flipping off the lamp and turning away from him. for some reason, you still find yourself mumbling, "good night."

sukuna's eye widens before promptly closing, the silence hanging in the air heavily. it's the longest conversation he's had in years and the first casual pleasantry he's heard in a millenia. he tries to feel satisfied that he got what he wanted in the end, before returning to his quiet solitude.

over the next few months, your late nights are graced somewhat frequently by the king of curses. he mainly complains— the friends you hung out with earlier were annoying, the tv's too loud, it took yuuji twenty minutes to exorcise a curse that sukuna could have dealt with in seconds.

it doesn't bother you nearly as much anymore and he's no longer able to get under your skin like he did that first night. it seems as if he's losing his touch, or perhaps he just isn't trying as hard.

it's around one in the morning, a book resting in your lap while your boyfriend snores softly beside you. sukuna's eye pops open, peering over at the text. "you're reading homer?"

your body jerks, startled by his sudden question, but you recover soon thereafter. "yeah, were you two friends or something?"

"no, you fool," he derides. "he lived far before my time."

though you don't comment on it, you find it amusing that your sarcasm had gone over his head. "oh, you're right. how silly of me to think you had friends."

"such profound witticism. i can hardly contain myself."

you sneak a glance over to find he's narrowed his eye at you and you actually giggle. "sorry."

it doesn't dawn on you how bizarre the interaction is, but sukuna abruptly realizes that something feels different. not once before tonight had he made you laugh.

he pushes the thought from his mind. "i did, however, indulge in his works during the heian period."

"really?" you perk up. it's not often you give him your full attention. "what'd you think?"

"i suppose i liked him well enough. one of my favorite lines comes from the poem you're reading."

you motion your hand for him to continue. "well don't be shy. i'm sitting here with bated breath."

he rolls his eye, but speaks nonetheless.

"men are so quick to blame the gods— they say that we devise their misery..." you realize for the first time how gruff his voice is, the deep reverberations sending a shudder down your spine. "but they themselves, in their depravity, design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."

his eye flickers between each of yours before you look back to your book, fiddling with the corner of the page. you're suddenly feeling rather shy. "does that mean you think humans are even crueler than you?"

he muses over your question briefly.

"if i recounted how men would flee the villages i burned, leaving their families behind in a selfish attempt to save themselves.. who would you find more revolting?

you swallow nervously. "i.. i don't know."

"what if i told you of the men who would eagerly offer their wives and daughters to me, hoping i'd spare them.. who would you deem more wicked?"

you're so busy avoiding his gaze that you don't see the way he carefully regards you. a question you're unsure you want the answer to tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. "did you accept? the.. the husbands' offers—"

"no," he responds. "i have little interest in unwilling partners."

"oh. well that's, um, good."

he hums in response, leaving you to process everything he's told you.

"you should stop," you blurt out eventually.

"stop what?"

"being nice to me." you wouldn't normally consider discussing literature then reminiscing about the egregious stories of his past life particularly kind, but then again, it is sukuna you're speaking with. "it's weird."

he rolls his eye again. "you're hardly in any position to be giving me orders, you insufferable brat."

"see? that's much better."

"why are you crying?" his tone is even, conveying neither annoyance or concern. truthfully, he has no idea what compelled him to ask in the first place.

you don't answer, hoping he'll leave you alone. you really don't have it in you tonight, even if sukuna's been much more tolerable recently. it's been weeks since you finished reading homer's epic poem.

the moon is already setting and it's just a few days before your date at the sushi restaurant.

when you sniffle again, he calls your name. you don't register that he doesn't say brat or idiot. it's the first time he's used your actual name.

"w-what do you want?"

"i seem to recall asking you a question."

you're laying on your side, facing away from yuuji and by extension, sukuna.

"i'm not crying," you declare.

sukuna briefly wonders why he's stuck dealing with you while yuuji sleeps, but his inward 'annoyance' is half hearted. "you're an awful liar."

you exhale and turn to look at him. the only light in the room is coming from the tv, but it's enough that he can see you clearly. "sometimes.. i can't help but worry about the execution."

yuuji has told you countless times that gojo has a plan, that he won't let anything happen, but you know what the higher ups are capable of.

and while it's down right shameful, you know that much, it's not only your boyfriend you worry about these days. sukuna's become so commonplace in your life, you almost look forward to talking with him at night.

"the thought of losing yuuji... of losing.. you.. it scares me," you murmur.

your words stir up feelings he's never once experienced and it's confusing to him. "i'd have figured you'd at least be pleased to be rid of me."

"well, i-i kind of thought we were friends now," you share without thinking.

"don't flatter yourself."

he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth and the guilt he feels as he watches your face fall is unbecoming of a being so powerful. you apologize meekly, shifting (too late) to hide your hurt.

he can't remember a moment in which he's hated being trapped in his vessel's god forsaken body more. he wants to reach out to you, even if the idea feels entirely foreign to him.

but he can't, so he just sighs. "if you think i'm going to let a few feebleminded sorcerers execute me and the brat, you're even more foolish than i thought."

you peer at him, the smallest smile gracing your lips when you realize that's probably as close to an apology as sukuna would ever get.

"promise?"

for fuck's sake. he feels utterly pathetic. completely deplorable. laughable, even—

"yes," he states impassively. "now go to sleep."

"okay." your smile is just a little wider as your fingertips brush the spot below his eye and above his mouth. you wonder if he can even feel it. "good night, sukuna."

"...night, brat."

less than a week after sukuna saves your life at the intersection, yuuji kisses you goodbye as he heads out to a mission. he assures you he'll be early tonight, as he only has to exorcise a semi-grade one cursed spirit in roppongi.

though things don't go quite as planned because in addition to the semi-grade, he finds himself standing before two special grades. he manages to defeat one of the special grades, but the other two leave him badly hurt, his breathing labored.

he has to beg sukuna to switch out with him. the king of curses hasn't forgotten his promise to you and he's no fool— it's clear this is an ambush by the higher ups— but he'll be damned if he wasn't going to have a little fun with the brat first.

he makes quick work of the curses, each of them going rigid with fear as soon as he appears, and it soon becomes apparent that yuuji is too weakened to take back control of his body just yet.

at last, sukuna has his long yearned for freedom and a new world at his fingertips, but there's just one problem... all he wants to do is find you.

when the lock to your apartment clicks, your eyes shift to the door, an excited grin on your face. you can't hide your shock when it isn't your boyfriend that steps inside.

you don't say anything at first, simply following his frame across the room as he approaches you. he leans against the wall a few feet away from where you're sitting on the couch, folding his arms across his chest.

"seems your concerns about the execution weren't unwarranted."

"w-what?!" you exclaim, rising to your feet and taking a step toward him. "what happened?"

he relays the story to you, emphasizing how 'unimpressive' yuuji's power was and how 'terribly simple' it was for him to finish the job his vessel couldn't.

you narrow your eyes at him, only half joking when you ask, "what are you doing here, then? shouldn't you be off pillaging tokyo or something?"

he chuckles. "such a dark mind you have. it wounds me to hear you assume the worst of me."

you bite your lip to hide your smile. "just figured it'd save time."

he closes the space between you and though you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you don't shy away from him. instead, your eyes trail over the dark lines adorning his face and chest.

he reaches up and your breath catches in your throat when the back of his fingers ghost over your neck. his nails graze your skin and a sly smirk forms on his face. "aren't you frightened? it'd be all too easy to kill a little thing like you."

"but you won't."

he can't tell if your assuredness pisses him off, but it certainly makes his heart rate pick up. his hand now occupies the space where your neck meets your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "what has you so convinced?"

"well you saved me, didn't you? and.. and you kept your promise."

he hums in response and your hand seems to act of its own accord when it reaches up to rest atop his. any lingering sense of amusement is gone in an instant, the air now fraught with tension.

"so why are you here, sukuna?" you murmur.

the king of curses has never known goodness. he's wrought untold destruction and misery, his name inspiring fear even after millenia. he's a legend— a god, even— yet here you are staring up at him and he swears the look in your eyes is almost tender.

"i don't know."

"and you had the nerve to call me an awful liar."

you know you're taking a risk when you lean up and press your lips to his. he freezes for a moment before his mouth begins to move against yours tentatively. his arm stays at his side, so you grab his hand, moving it to your waist.

it's as if that flips a switch in sukuna. he backs you up against the wall somewhat roughly and you can feel him smile against your lips when you let out a squeak of surprise.

he uses the opportunity to take your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before moving to your neck with the intention of leaving a trail of marks across your delicate flesh.

you know you should care, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. you're too preoccupied with the feeling. he revels in the little gasps he's pulling from your throat, in the way you grab weakly at his biceps.

"you are divine, kitten," he growls. "been waiting so long to touch you."

just as he finishes speaking, he pulls back a few inches and his body stiffens.

"damn it. not now, you stupid brat—"

the words die in his throat as the black lines begin to fade and you're met with the perplexed face of your boyfriend. he breaths out your name, clearly worried. "what.. what happened?"

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

[lovifie]

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

Masterlist - Taglist Form

Next Chapter

Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was. 

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 

Not because they would have not loved him back. 

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now. 

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 

Warm and breathing. 

He can only imagine what you went through. 

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 

He already knew that. 

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 

A scarred, angry Johnny. 

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't. 

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 

Not the greatest first impression. 

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

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#call of duty #ghostsoap #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod #john soap mactavish #ghost cod #soapghost #simon riley #cod smut #ghost smut #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #soap x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #ghoap #ghoap x reader #soap #call of duty smut #john mactavish #soap smut

[luveline]

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel can’t control himself when you get hurt in the field —a ficlet featuring an irritated (lovesick) miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested he re, fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. fighting, injury, blood

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel watches the screen in front of him unhappily. 

"Spider-Girl," he says. Two people answer him. He sighs. "Y/N," he amends, "you're being reckless." 

The little droid camera that follows you around circles your head as you swing from one place to another. "I'm being good," you deny. 

Miguel would never tell you this, but he loves how you speak. Sure, almost every word you say annoys him, but the cadence of your voice is melodic and addictive at once. And Miguel knows you're nice to everyone, but it's him alone that has you speaking so softly. 

You do it to torture him, he's sure. 

"You're doing well, but you'd be better if you didn't free fall for so long. Mechanical failure can happen at any minute," Miguel says. 

"Then one of the others will catch me." 

"And if there's no team member close by? I'm supposed to come and scrape you off of the sidewalk?" 

"Miguel," you say gently. He can tell what mood you're in today. "They have people for that." 

"Could you just do as I asked you to?" 

"Ah, but you haven't asked me anything." 

"Please," he says, "focus on the task at hand, and use your webs cautiously." 

You make a chirping sound that feels more laughter than affirmation, but you do as he requests, reducing the length of time between each web shot. You're in New York, Earth-1844, attempting to send home an unhappy Doc Ock variant whose mechanical arms are immensely technologically advanced, even when compared to Nueva York's futurism.

Miguel had sent you along with a rather large team, one. because a big team was necessary for the task, two. because you'd asked and he has trouble saying no to you, and three. because if you'd spent another hour in his office today he actually might have given into temptation, which wouldn't be good for anybody.

Miguel is used to doing what needs to be done rather than what he'd like, these days. So while he wants to indulge you and your fanciful suggestions —I'm not heavy, handsome, please, you won't even notice I'm in your lap, your thighs are so wide— he can't. He has things to do. Things that cannot endure distraction. 

"Woo!" you cheer through laughter, letting your shoes skim the floor in an especially dangerous manoeuvre. The adrenaline turns you giddy. "Holy crap." 

Oh, right, that's why he resists temptation —he hates you. (He doesn't hate you.) He hates you and your disregard for your own safety, he hates your rejection of his authority, and he hates the stupid sweet sound you make when you're excited. 

"Do you listen to me and then forget what I've said, or do you not understand the English language?" he asks. 

You land on a rooftop overlooking the centre of Future Doc Ock's destruction. "Well, I've been learning Spanish. We could always try that," you suggest. 

"Why have you been learning Spanish?" he asks. 

"Coquetear contigo," you say, your pronunciation all over the place. To flirt with you. 

"Qué maravilla," he mutters. 

"I don't know that one, handsome, so I'm going to assume it was a love confession or something similar." You sound so overly fond he has to tense his jaw. "Gwen, where are you?" 

"I'm over here?" 

Gwen is wrapped up tightly in a metal tentacle. It shakes her around fanatically. Miguel swears and zooms in on her location, watching in apprehension as she attempts to free herself while the arm creaks, tightening, tightening. 

"Woah," you say, taking a running jump off of the rooftop. "Can you believe it? I'm not the first one who needs rescuing." 

Hobie Brown reaches Gwen before you can, and he makes an impressive rescue. You divert your path, shooting a web at the glass dome covering Future Doc Ock's head. Miguel crosses his arms across his chest. Wannabe Mysterio loser, he thinks, and then, when you've smashed a hole into the dome with a generously momentous kick, Nice. 

He doesn't suppose Doc Ock was expecting a kick to the jaw today. 

You hiss as you propel yourself away from him, another web shot at a nearby lamppost. It does something funny to his chest when he hears you whine in pain, but he's too distracted to ask what's wrong —he scours your droid's view for an answer, finds it red and saturating the fabric of your suit. 

"Why are you bleeding, Spider-Girl?" he asks, gaze drawn to the main screen where Dock Ock shouts belligerent threats at an approaching Spider-Man. 

"No biggie," you say, hissing again, "I think I cut my leg on the glass. I need a better suit." 

"Can you walk?" 

"I'm fine," you say with a sniffle. From the amount of blood, the cut is deep. "Is it me, or is it dusty in here?" 

It definitely hurts if it's making you cry, though maybe you're unprepared. This was a bad idea, you aren't as seasoned as the others, and he knows you don't know what you're doing yet. You need more time, more practice. You've hurt yourself in the field on your very first mission, and you don't have the pain threshold or the super-healing necessary to cope.

It's his fault for letting you go. 

"Prepare for extraction," he says.

"No! No way, are you kidding? I'm fine, I– I can do this."

"Y/N," he warns. 

You fling yourself from the lamppost with impressive grace considering your injury and join the fight once again. Miguel can't keep an eye on you like he wants to, as the alarm that indicates an anomaly begins to sound. He's forced to rush together a second team while the elite strike force are preoccupied, yanking members of Spider-Society from their goings abouts, Lyla in his ear recommending effective combinations and fighting styles. From that point on, he has to supervise two different missions, his head pounding with effort. 

His hands itch. He should be out there. Miguel is the cream of the crop and he isn't shy to admit that. He's a good fighter, but he can't be everywhere at once, and most of the anomalies they face require multiple sets of hands to fix. So he forces himself to stay put and guide the teams through each fight, sick to his stomach with every bloody footprint you leave behind. 

He's following Hobie Brown and offering rejected instruction when he sees you go down. He toggles your voice channel and catches the end of a high-pitched, "Oof," the air-knocked from your lungs forcibly as you hit the ground. The tentacle that propelled you veers up for a finishing blow, and three different webs catch it and pull it backward. 

It's a blur. One minute Miguel's in the control room at Spider-Society headquarters, the next he's breathing in the smoggy air of New York, Earth-1844, concrete and asphalt torn up under his hands. Lyla speaks in his ear and he's deaf to her, his focus pointed with only one thing in mind. 

The restraint it takes not to wipe Doc Ock from the face of the dimension is incalculable. Miguel can't quite believe his own moderation as he orchestrates the return of the anomaly, your body on the ground in the corner of his eye. 

The second the situation is under control, he runs to you. His gloves hit the ground with a thud by your hip, as do his knees. Spider-Man, a Peter Parker from Earth-751263, has already set nanobots over your prone figure, tiny spider-like creatures that leave webbing bandages in their wake, closing the sluggish wound on your calf. But nanotech won't fix a broken spine, not in the field. Miguel needs a stretcher. He needs to get you home. 

"Miguel," you say, drawing his gaze from your slow-rising chest, "I can't breathe.

He slides his thumb as gently as he can into the seam of your mask and eases it off. "You're winded." 

You cough. The sound is disturbingly wet, but your lips remain unsullied. Miguel can't look at you in this much pain, and he won't: he stands, and he takes control. 

—

You're not in nearly as much pain as you should be, because Doctor Spider-Man gave you the good stuff. "Your healing isn't nearly as expedited as most of us," he'd said. 

"Is this medical discrimination?" you'd asked, faking a serious concern. "Do I need to talk to Spider-Lawyer?" 

You found it funny. He maybe didn't, but he gave you an extra dose and told you to rest up before leaving. Resting at the Society medbay isn't easy because Spider People are constantly filtering in and out of the ward for check-ups, medication, and corrections. 

It's also not easy because most Spider People are incredibly lonely in their home dimensions, and incredibly friendly here. When Miguel finally comes to visit you, you have a Spider-Girl from a few dimensions over who has the same biological mother as you but a different father sitting to your left —she's trippy and adorable, if you do say so yourself— two Peter Parkers to your right, and a melting pot of currency lost in the white linen sheets over your legs.  

They get one good look at Miguel and put down their playing cards. 

The Peter Parkers slink off together promising to come and see you again sometime, and your variant stops just shy of Miguel's position to look him up and down affectionately. 

"Go away," he says. 

She beams at him. "Okay." 

"You can't help it, can you?" he asks after she's gone, picking a rogue playing card up from the end of your bed. He twiddles it between his index and middle finger, the card shushing with each turn.

You sit up in bed and try to straighten out the sheets, hoping to entice him. You don't bother answering his question. It barely sounded like one. 

"I'm hurt, you know?" you ask. 

"I know. I told you to retreat." 

"No, I'm hurt it took you so long to visit me," you say. You're putting on airs. Truthfully, you genuinely are a little hurt, but your voice is soft and dreamy as always. "I thought we were friends." 

"Ah, because you need more of those." 

You sink down into your pillows, your knees hiked. "I really can't help it if people like me. And you'd know." 

Miguel surprises you by sitting down. He faces away from you, his thigh just shy of your feet below the sheets, and it's only then you realise he's tense. He's in civvies for a change, a t-shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest and regular black sweatpants. He's wearing converse. 

You look at him through a squint. "Did you hit your head, too?" 

"I'm off-duty."

"I just never pictured you in sneakers." 

"How do you picture me?" he asks, neck craned to look at you, his chin touching his shoulder. He has dark circles under his eyes and his brows are ruffled on one side. 

You let your knees fall to one side and pull your legs to your chest, hoping to entice him closer. "You're not sleeping well?" 

Miguel doesn't answer your inquiry. In fact, he falls silent. His eyes are on your hands where they're bunched at your chest, his dark flush of lashes twitching as his gaze tracks along the column of your throat, your jaw, and finally, your face. 

"If you were anyone else," he says eventually, "you'd be benched." 

"I'm not benched?" you ask. 

"You disobeyed a direct order," he says, "and your actions affected the people around you. Someone else could've been hurt protecting you. You have to listen to what I'm telling you to do, or this is never going to work." 

You look at the hospital bed railing rather than face his disappointment. 

"But it's my fault." 

"What?" you ask, startled. 

"It's my fault you got hurt. I knew you couldn't handle it, and I let you go anyway. I'm… I'm weak." 

"What are you talking about?" you ask. "Weak? You're the strongest person here, with or without Rapture." 

He flinches at the drug's name.

You lay there, paralysed by your own mistake, your big mouth ruining everything for the thousandth time. If there's one thing you know about Miguel, it's that you never mention his weaknesses. His drug. His last attempt at a full life. You might be light-hearted, a free spirit, but you're far from stupid usually. Your emotional intelligence must've got lost somewhere on Earth-1844. 

"Sorry," you murmur, looking at him from under your lashes. "I didn't mean…" 

Slowly, so slowly, he puts his hand on your leg. It doesn't hurt, you've been medicated and stitched and his touch is far from cruel, but you're so startled that your breath gets caught in your throat. Miguel doesn't touch you unless he's giving you a vague reprimand, moving your hand from a button you shouldn't touch or a door you're not allowed to open. 

"I let you go on that mission, knowing you weren't ready, because you asked me to let you. I put selfish motivations over your safety. It won't happen again." 

You're not as brave as you think you are. You try to hold his hand but it looks so big, and you've never had him this close to you of his own accord. You're a moment away from nervous goosebumps. 

He looks up at your touch, your pinky finger wrapped over his, smaller and shorter but with the same pattern of calluses, skin abraded by tight gloves and rough surfaces. 

"Selfish motivations," you repeat in a murmur. 

"I don't– like saying no. To you." He couldn't sound more unhappy to admit it. 

"You say no to me all the time," you say. You don't mean to, but suddenly you're folding your fingers over his, forcing him to hold your hand. He doesn't stop you. He doesn't let go. "Like, ten times a day." 

"It's difficult." Your complaint is a blessing for him —the atmosphere around you shifts to something less vulnerable, and his permanently chagrined personality rears its head once again. He raises his eyebrows. "You make my life extremely difficult," he says flatly. 

"You make my life difficult, too," you say. 

You can't help but give him your fondest smile, your lashes kissing in the corners of your eyes.  

He visibly softens. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, just once. 

"Fantastic," he says, looking firmly away from you. "Great." 

"Isn't it?" you ask happily. 

He squeezes your fingers gently. It's almost imperceptible. "Yeah, it is," he says. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! also, im sorry if you already speak spanish i realised after that that detail was subjective to the reader, sorry!

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