#wrong choice

[wolfsteak]

Day 3 of Poketober 🧸

[hiddenonemakhfi]

Some run away and find their dreams come true... Some just turn out to be a coward who see to it that their dreams are buried deep beneathe the debris...

P.s - Just be yourself because some solutions are found, and some are created...You choose the journey that suits you

-M

[autobot2001]

The Rescue

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Rating: T Warning: None Pairing: None Description: Jamie is captured and refuses to give any information on Task Force 141.

Day 1.1; @ailesswhumptober: Contusion @whumptober-archive: "Please don't cry." @angstober: Wrong choice

Under the cut

“It was a trap!” Price says, slamming his fist onto the table. They were aware of Jamie’s abilities and how to capture her. “Someone who knows her has to be working for the enemy,” Ghost says. “It’s not well known that she has powers. This was an enemy we’ve never faced before, so they’ve never seen her use her powers.” “I don’t like this,” Price worries.

Jamie is bound to a chair. Three men walk into the room. “Well, I was hoping for a fight,” one soldier says. “Untie me, then!” “No, you’re going to tell us about Task Force 141.” “NO!” “Wrong choice.” The other two removed Jamie’s bonds from the chair. In the room’s center, she’s cuffed to a ceiling-mounted chain. Jamie knows what she got herself into, but she refuses to say anything.

Two days pass. The search duration infuriates Price. Everyone knows Jamie would rather die than rat the 141 out. They worry that the search will end in finding a body. The enemy who took Jamie is located. Within ten minutes, everyone is on a helicopter to the location.

Six hours later, the enemy is under attack. While Gaz and Price fight off the enemy, Ghost and Soap find Jamie. Taking down any enemy they encounter. They locate the cells, and Jamie is lying in the first one.

Soap gets on his knees beside her. “Jamie?” He’s careful as he moves her onto her back. “Jamie, wake up.” Ghost stands behind Soap, seeing all the contusions. He worries about internal injuries as Soap continues to try to get Jamie to wake up. “Come on,” Soap worries. Gaz and Price run into the room, their gazes fixed on Jamie. “Enemies are down,” Price tells Ghost and Soap. “They beat her,” Ghost says. “She won’t wake up.” Only Soap’s whisper breaks the silence as he tries to wake Jamie. A few minutes pass. Jamie wakes up. The five men smile as she comes to. They expected her confusion, yet they underestimated her intolerance of any pain in this condition. “Please don’t cry,” Soap whispers. Tears roll down Jamie’s face. Gaz retrieves his medkit, seeking a pain reliever for Jamie. Gaz finds some pain pills and hands them to Soap, who helps Jamie take them. Gaz, Ghost, Soap, and Price knew they needed to get out of the enemy base, but they didn’t want to move Jamie while she was in pain. Price stands in the hallway, ready for potential enemies to find them. Gaz is gentle as he looks over Jamie’s visible injuries. Price calls for extraction. Nikolai gives an ETA of twenty minutes. Gaz, Ghost, Price, and Soap hope the pain relief will kick in by then so Soap can carry her without causing pain.

[howifeltabouthim]

With every choice you made, you took responsibility. That it was irreversible, irretrievable, that it would screw tight the lid, prohibit the path to more choices. That out of all those liberating, mesmerizing options you could choose something bony, fetid, barren. And with that decision, you would have inflicted unhappiness (tragedy, even!) with your very own hand.

Irina Reyn, from What Happened to Anna K.

[crmsnmth]

It's Either You or the Drugs

She knew the answer before she even asks the question I can see the disappointment and sadness A tear in her eye, just waiting to slip the cornea and it will by god, it will

And I tense up before she starts her stream of accusations a fist, dead center of my drooping face I hate to see her cry, but it seems to be all I know how to do

Are you high?

The words punch like bullets and if I wasn’t already lying down I sure would be after that blow I know you already know, but I’ve got spunk and I’ll try and lie my way out of this Shaking my head like an excited dog

I didn’t want to see her cry but I never did think of the consequences Behold, my kingdom of impulse behavior

Why?

She adds an extra shot and I want to explain to her that this is the only way I can somehow find the will to like myself But I don’t and I just shrug once again leaving the only person hellbent on saving me with another nights of too stoned silent treatment

We’ll crawl into bad and she’ll fall asleep after silently crying as I drift off on my sedative ignorant of the tears beside me and even if I’d known there was nothing I could have done

and at the end of it when it was clear to her that I was going to always put my fix first she told me I chose the drugs and left me standing, confused and crashing We’ve never talked again since

[st-4-cey]

Now…..Luca hall off grownish 😳😳

That’s all I’m gonna say

[mageswithcats]

my ocs making friends:

[wordsoftheheartandsoul]

You did the best you could with what you knew. I know that if you could go back, you would. I know that you'd handle it all differently. I know that the should haves and could haves took on a life of their own. I know that the memory that comes to mind and breaks your heart has replayed countless times in your head and leaves a heaviness on your heart that's so familiar that it feels like a part of you. Give yourself grace. Extend mercy where you messed up. Cover yourself in love, knowing that you are not perfect and will never be expected to be. No one gets it right all the time. Sometimes, we act out of emotion, make the wrong choice, or make matters worse whenever we are desperately trying to fix them. You are not alone in that space of regret, but it doesn't mean you belong in that space. It's time to put the baggage of those mistakes and decisions down. Time has passed, and you need that weight on your shoulders to go with it. You are worthy, wonderful, and undoubtedly wiser despite what you weathered. You are forgiven. You are free.

Morgan Richard Olivier - One Still Whisper