Girl. Your red string au. Top tier. Delicious. Chef's kiss. Perfect give me 14 of em
Subject: red strings au pt. 4 (masterlist here)
Sender's notes: @notsochillnerd this au owes you its life for the two months this request has been sitting in my inbox. Sometimes i would pull it out and just look at it on my phone. Some life updates nobody cares about but i'm subjecting you guys to anyway: passed my latest exam season (with flying colors), got my top program preference!! Also lowk got attacked online by the person who caused the events that inspired this fic so everyone being really nice to me on here is now 2x as appreciated. You're going into this part cold turkey because i said so. Except- Price is the biggest meanie in this particular part specifically because i hate his 'we get dirty and the world gets clean' (fuck that) propaganda quote (even though i myself am a price girlie) and the language is innaccurate to the inner workings of the military, unless it isn't.
Price has known the brass is plotting something for a while.
He's been doing this job long enough to see the signs for what they are- the missions have been becoming longer, with the breaks in between radio silent. They're being left to their own devices more often than usual, John's judgement getting very little flack in meetings and on phone calls. The most concerning though, is when Kate stops contacting him anywhere except from the formal channels.
Before this, she's at the very least gotten communication to him about the situation through word of mouth, if nothing else. At first, he selfishly hopes she's the one being surveilled and not his boys, that their newfound autonomy is a trickle down effect from an issue for his boss and nothing more. But when they get sent to quite literally run around a maze like a bunch of lab rats- all signs point to an experiment.
He generally makes a point to avoid those, because it sounds like they involve a lot of waiting around to watch all the rats die.
And when Laswell tells him a new civilian consultant has touched down on base, after they've been deployed- that they'll be calling him in an hour to help the 141 use their strings for higher efficiency- it confirms his worst fucking fears.
"I'm here to help," you say on comms, and he tries not to scoff in response. As far as he's concerned, you're here to do them all in.
Distantly, he wonders what his fourth love will wake up to when you've succeeded. Will they know the strings fell away because they're all gone? Or will the strings linger like they sometimes do, stretching farther and farther away in that distinct, undeniable direction of the dead?
Would anyone mourn them?
Wouldn't it be his fault if no one did?
"Soap and I are at East base, Gaz and Ghost are still going 'round the Southwest sect. What're y'recommending, Doc?"
You don't know how to actually answer that, because you thought there would at least be a PowerPoint presentation or something, so you say the only thing you know for sure right now.
"I don't technically have my PhD yet? I'm not eligible to have doctor as my honorific. I mean, I've-"
"Until we come up with a callsign, you're Doc. Unless you have something you'd prefer us calling you?"
You'd give them your name, but there's an edge in his voice that tells you he finds your line of conversation pretentious. So you pick a different battle.
"I can't make a recommendation without actually understanding your strings in practice first."
"What the hell do you mean by that?" Price knows he's veering away from surly Captain territory and into the guaranteed cesspool of Laswell's admonishments, but the last thing he wants is an invasion of their privacy. Not right now. Not when they're trying to grieve.
"I would need a good idea about the health trajectory of your strings, how they may already be facilitating communication between you, and so on? Captain, I understand this is sensitive, but-"
Price switches off their radio.
You stare at the screen.
No one is on comms except you, and this isn't a rejection. Even if it is a rejection, it's a rejection from a superior in a professional workplace environment that has nothing to do with your personal worth. Even if sitting at this desk right now is sort of the opposite of what you thought this part of your life was supposed to look like- even if you have gotten stuck talking with an ergonomic man from the armed forces and his primary agenda is to protect his magical personal life from you. Like you'd only ruin what he already has.
Your heart sinks when you feel yourself agree with him.
It's nightfall when Simon and Kyle reach their safehouse. It's more of a shack, really, but it might as well be a five star luxury resort compared to most of the other places they've made camp before.
And, the pairing helps. The two of them don't often end up together when the team splits, mostly because they have the same tendency to pick and choose when certain rules don't apply to them on a whim. At least around Soap, Simon ends up trying to be the responsible one. But even though their dynamic in the field is probably written into their DNA at this point- it has to be with every member of your squad if you want to get out alive- the change of pace gives them an opportunity to let it hang in the air. The truth that they both miss someone they've never had.
Simon makes sure his voice doesn't sound too well used before he opens comms. They've been whispering and mumbling the entire way here, but their Captain is probably wondering if he'll have a mutiny on his hands at the end of this mission. In time, he'll figure out that's just about as likely as you ever wanting to see their faces again.
"This is Ghost, Gaz and I have reached the safehouse. Anyone copy? We're at the safehouse on the Southwe-"
"Copy, you both alright?" Price cuts in, but there's an echo.
Kyle sighs (crumbling the force inside you that keeps your voice firm), walking over with the single blanket that was rough enough to ward off fungus.
"Captain, can you ask Johnny to come and troubleshoot for you? We heard you say 'copy' twice," he says, (and for all the hours you've sat there, waiting for them to call in, you don't feel any indignation at this) not even caring to ask before cuddling into the masked man.
On the floor.
"We need to take turns being on watch," Ghost hisses off the mic, but Kyle ignores him.
"You and I both know damn well you're not going to be able to sleep till at least 4, so shut up."
"How copy?" Comes through the speaker again, weaker in retrospective (to you, it sounds the same).
"Better now, Cap, ev'rything okay wit' you over there?" Simon tries again and nearly cringes when he receives a hollow, barking laugh too similar to his own for comfort in turn.
"Define okay. We've got saddled with some stupid analyst-"
The beep of someone leaving comms makes them pause.
DNI; people who use language rooted in bigotry, cultural appropriators (bitch i see you), anyone who supports AI, anyone who thinks it's okay to put artists out of work using AI, anyone who wants to put my work into AI i will find you in your sleep
WELCOME TO READ: my lgbtq homies and my bipoc girlies i love you (+ pretty much everyone else ❤)
Requesters Please Note:
i love you and i will be getting back to you asap.
referencing / discussing smut content is allowed but please don't go into overwhelming detail.
i'm never going to write angst without comfort (best i can do is put it in a part 2, but the comfort is going to happen whether you like it or not).
fandoms i write for: so far only cod, but more coming soon!
red strings au moodboards, one with the new and tentative title for the fic LOVELINES (tentative being the operative word here, let me know how you feel about it?) and one without so you can zoom in and see all of the MANY details, hints and vibes.
ALRIGHT I'M OPEN FOR COD PROMPTS IN CASE ANYONE WANTS TO SALVAGE MY WILL TO WRITE will you get imagines? Drabbles? Concepts of a concept? A 5k fic? Who knows! In 10 seconds? In 6 months? Fuck if i know. But i'm open for prompts for any x reader ship (including König + Laswell bc i've never written for them before) and i'll be responding to all of them in one way or another. My masterlist is my pinned post in case you want a point of reference. Barrage of tags incoming
been extremely anxious about the ghostprice oneshot but just now i had to wake up my cat to put my laptop on charge so it wouldn't lose my progress (she was sleeping between my feet) which means that i no longer care if no one likes it it'll be up in 24 hours so be prepared
alrighty the next part of the 141 red string au is almost done. trying to write this is actually lowk tough because of the minimalist setting and right now is the part where i have to set up the dynamics (when i am actually far more eager for the issues within the dynamics to get resolved). i feel like it might be a little boring but... it's been sitting in my drafts for two months and i need to either get it out of the way or it'll be there forever. also writing military stuff is a little bit difficult given my country literally nearly went to war (and still might) over the last two weeks? it just requires a lot of pausing at my own writing and hurting a little bit. tl;dr, next red string au part coming tomorrow-ish, and then i'll probably veer heavily into the fantasy tropes of both this fic and the other fics i have planned in order to not drought again
