#reference to

[mierstaer]

aralas pmv || here before

[wormwoodartemisia]

Messed up [2]

》 Again: thank you, @553580 and @daydreamerwoah , for letting me fool around! 《

|About 500 words| [Prelude] [1] [Next] [Series Masterlist] [⬇️by gilduii]

Not even 24 hours earlier…

It's not about what Lt. "Ghost" Riley did to you, at least not about that physical act of brutal rape.

It's not even about your literally scattered brain.

No, these two occurences are in fact something you can cope with, in the greater context.

Because, surprisingly, any recreation of brain structure is the easiest part within your process of renewal. There are far worse deaths than a headshot, you can tell.

And when you decided to pick up a military career, you knew about risks and dangers. It was always clear to you that there might be things you'd dislike but would find necessary to be dealt with, anyways. [Best theoretical, general example: a huge meteor that would be about to destroy the earth — of course the public could not be informed.]

No, in hindsight, you really do not blame Ghost for forcing himself upon you ferociously under the influence of that virus or pollen or whatsoever. After all, he didn't choose to get infected, did he?

No.

It's about everything that happened after he'd pulled out of you with a grunt. After he'd fucked his system clean again.

It's about the betrayal.

You're shaking off earth and dirt and death while you're getting up to your feet, stretching your aching muscles and getting familiar with the feeling of your newly formed skull bones and wrath.

There had been a fleeting moment, right before Ghost started to address the captain, that you really thought you'd get some minimum explanation from Price, something to work with, some sort of reassurance, so that you could heal and handle meeting the team again, even coming upon face to face with Ghost once more later, but now you fully understand that treating you on something comparable to eye level had never been an option — or letting you live at all.

To them, there was no fighting on the same side together with you; you were nothing but a security risk. A witness to a government secret above your clearance. A very cheap life – no matter what had been before this fateful encounter… No matter that you'd have been willing to risk death for them all – even if you could have given yourself up only once…

You thought too highly of them, by far…

That's what hurts so much. The fact that neither the captain nor your lieutenant knew or cared that you wouldn't tell. That you, of all people, would have known how to keep an obvious military secret for them.

It was a moment of genuine surprise for you, having you recoil in shock against your better knowledge, when the captain had actually readied his gun. Though, perhaps you should have known better.

Gotta keep that in mind.

A considerable price for a painful lesson in more than one way.

The incident cost your trust in the men you looked up to.

Pity.

Someone would have to pay. And for now, there are two names on your list to start with.

Simon Riley. And John Price.

◾️ Cold seed [1]

[This fic is what inspired me regarding You's supernatural existence]

[periwinklehedgehog]

this fit too well, I'm afraid

- Seriously, what do you see in that guy?

-... He makes me laugh

[zack-s-s]

F*ck

and this is how I colored the cover of my sketchbook (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)

(фу, криво косо 😔)

[bluecroc29]

(Bill Cipher/Axolotl: Gravity Falls animatic) The Axolotl tries to get Bill Cipher to confront his own grief by sharing their own- if Bill would pay attention.

Made my First animatic and I'm proud of how it came out! Could've it been better? Sure but I don't know how so this is my path. Audio is from an Episode from a podcast named Midnight Burger. I can not stress enough just how great this show is.

[lassie-farce]

oh don't mind me i'm just thinking abou a scene set to the song new york minute where john carter scours the mansion for his mother, knowing she was using again only to find her dead - she od'd.

and then at the funeral being forced by tradition and his father to spin false tales of how great she was as a mom ad the only people able to call bs are peter ans mark and the rest of the er crew, who, to a minimal extent, know he's been the one who had to take care of her even as he himself was in rehab and his mother brought the drugs to the house (or had them brought, bc, you know, money)

but they don't because doing that in front of carter's extended family would be like a throwing a fresh, juicy carcass in front of a herd of vultures

and then john finds himself living a lie, taking reins of the foundation in the wake of gamma and his mother's deaths. his father fucks off to god knows where, undignified as he was omitted in the will save for a small bachelor's fund.

so now carter is starting his 2nd year as an er resident and really, really out of his depth, and buys a small flat near county because he felt like a ghost haunting the mansion without gamma there.

he makes sure the staff can retire comfortably or take care of the estate in his absence and personally disposes of all narcotics his mom had. he wishes to say he didn't want them, but, god, he did.

he so very much did.

no one did see him dispose of the paraphenelia.

[letters-not-opened11]

one two three four five six seven eight, schlemiel, schlimazel, hasenpfeffer incorporated!