Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
As John spirals in the aftermath of the wedding, reflecting on both his own poor choices and the ones forced upon him, a knock at his door puts some things into perspective… and reveals a terrible betrayal.
He still tears up when he thinks of everything his friends and family did to help him, only for him to throw it back in their faces. Old and familiar shame rears up, and he can't quite push it down like usual.
He'd hoped he was getting better. Hoped he was at the point he could move forward with his life instead of being dragged two steps backward with every step of progress he made.
But then Simon bullied his way back into John's life and showed him how worthless all his supposed progress really was.
Can be read as a standalone: Lasting Pictures (pt.5)
Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Photographer!Reader
Summary: The past finally comes to the surface in more ways than more, a face from memory comes to the forefront and the foundations of many sprouting relationships begin to crack as pressure builds to your most important mission yet.
Warnings: 7345 words, slowburn, swearing, depictions of PTSD, torture, abuse, injury. Allusions to jealousy.
A/N: Kinda a double chapter in this once.
Masterlist | Taglist | edited.
Lasting Pictures Series
(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6) (pt.7) (on-going)
you are here
As Gabby enters the kitchen space she is startled to see a shirtless captain leaning against the counter top, answering emails on his phone as the kettle bubbles in wait beside him. Gaz appears to be leaning against his bread before he staggers away at the sound of Gabby choking on her own spit. John’s head snaps over to the noise as he clenches his phone in his hand. “Goodmorning, Fish. Apologies for the appearances- we are used to being the only ones up at this hour.”
“I can see that,” Gabby duly noted before making her way to the fridge and pouring a glass of orange justice for herself. Next, eyeing up the toaster from behind Kyle, he silently moves to the side before giving the Captain a look over and turns on the news. The kettle soon clicks off afterwards and the smell of breakfast being cooked once again has the apartment sturing to life.
Gabby awaits your presence as Ghost is seen coming into the kitchen and grabbing the last of the hot water before monitoring the food on the stovetop. Taking another sip out of her glass while doing her best to not look at John's back muscles moving as he chops the fruit. Gabby hears the last door turn to click open and the patter of two feet coming down the hall, smiling in her drink once again. Gabby holds back her tongue so that you can enjoy a breakfast- somewhat uninterrupted.
Soap gives Gabby a small wave in recognition as he pours out two cups of coffee and hands the other to you. Closing your eyes while taking a sip, the Captain orders everyone to head towards the table as Gaz calls out the scores of last week's game that you all missed. Soap cheers out hearing his favorite club won as Gaz groans out in disappointment- losing the trophy once again.
Once all sat at the table, everyone ate silently as the news anchor read out their daily report. Utensils scrape against plates, a coffee jug is handed around the table, and a small meow can be heard?
You drop your fork- it clatters against the plate as your eyes snap over to Gabbys. She looks at you excitedly, yet as you peer deeper you see her holding back from teasing as your eyes go wide in horror- she knew something you didn’t. Letting go of the look for now, you stand up in a hurry, rushing over to the front door in your striped pajamas and fling the door open. There stands Laswell with a cat carrier in hand as you practically rip it out of her hand and rush to the living room to unload your companion.
Spoons meows out loudly to your presence as you snuggle them closer to your form, eventually finding a place on your shoulders. The feel of their fur against your neck brings a special kind of comfort as you shake Lasswell's hand in thanks before giving Gabby a hug. Kate smiles at the scene in front of her before speaking, “I made a few calls, this is just for the next week or so. Can’t have Gabby racing around everywhere when she needs to be saving our backs with her brain.”
A few hums of agreement can be heard from the dinning table as she soon exits the apartment, shutting the door behind herself softly. Returning to the table, you give Spoons a few scraps off your plate before packing to visit your awaiting parent. As you turn to yell down the hall, asking if Gabby wants to join you. You are surprised to find Ghost standing in the doorway, arms crossed as he offers to take your bag down to the car for you. Smiling in thanks you grab your toiletry bag and zip the suitcase close before a bone-gloved hand carries it effortlessly to the elevator and down to the parking lot.
Looking around your room for anything else you may have forgotten, you realise the lack of decorations on your walls and the generic bedsheets appear stark against the cluttered shelf you have in the corner. It has been over a month since you last went to your apartment, two months since you had seen Spoons, and two months since you had seen that unorganized stack of journals and planners across your desk.
A small, bittersweet smile overcomes your face- from being placed on one mission to the next. It barely felt like anytime had passed, you felt alive once more, camera in hand within the proximity of action and yet you missed those quiet nights to yourself. The record playing in the background as you would dance around your apartment- procrastinating against signing more prints of your photos and sending emails… But you would not change the last few moments for anything. Soap always found a way to make you smile- Gaz made you blush in your boots or leave you cackling in them. Price- hell Price, his touch was healing in more ways than one. And Ghost, you chuckle to yourself- staring out the window in remembrance. Ghost always found a way to make more happen from less. You focus your gaze on the slightly wilting flowers by your bedside before turning to close the door behind yourself.
--
Gabby stood beside your car, packed and ready to go as Spoons sat on her lap, you and Ghost exchanged small waves in goodbye to one another. The drive went well into the countryside as you both sang to songs on the radio and stopped at roadside convenience stores for snacks along the way.
Once arriving at your childhood home, a few tearful hugs were shared and lunch was being served. You all played various board games throughout the day before helping them to tend to the garden and to do general maintenance around the house. Dinner was rewarded in the family famous lasagna that Gabby was practically drooling out the mouth for. Having a metaphorical ding ring through your head, you shoved the picture of Gabby who stole your bed last night into her face. Laughing widely as your parent soon joined in afterwards seeing the image for themselves.
Gabby roared and laughed as she texted the picture to herself before passing your phone back and reaching for her own. Your eyes drew very wide at the sight of you and Soap cuddled into bed together as your parent began to pour a waterfall of questions to you. Gabby soon fled the scene, picking up all your plates for the dishwasher before commenting, “I’m taking the fish for a walk,” as the front door closed behind her.
A few vaguely answered questions later, you held your head down in an effort to shield yourself from further teasing and you were scampering to your childhood room painted a light blue and lined with various posters across the wall. All showcasing the phases you went through. Shaking your head at the sight, Gabby spooked you from her return as she unfolded a sleeping bag for herself and placed it beside your twin-sized bed.
“Tonight I will sleep by myself- but for tomorrow… I can’t hold any promises” Gabby before throwing her shirt into your face with roaring laughter as you jumped onto her and a pillow fight had you both out of breath and falling asleep on the floor that night. With a crack in the door, Spoons enters the silent room, hopping onto the bed while looking down at you both, a tilt in their head and a shake of their fur before they soon find sleep too.
--
The weekend went quickly with all the work to be done around the home and quickly enough you and Gabby were driving back to base with the sunsetting in the rearview mirror and Spoons meowing loudly from the backseat. Once returning back on base and to your shared living quarters, you saw various boxes that littered the entry. Putting your bag down by the door, you saw that each label was addressed to either you or Gabby. Popping over the lid, you wished you hadn’t looked before slamming your forehead against the wall with a large sigh. All the information and evidence you had collected from the last mission had finally appeared from transport- and did you ever have your work cut out for you.
Cracking your fingers and stretching out your neck. Spoons looked at you with barely both eyes open and gave you a small meow in greeting before falling back asleep once more. “Thanks for the help, Spoons. It is much appreciated,” you sassed your pet before clearing the boxes from the entry way and into your room to be moved to the offices later.
--
Whipping the sweat from your brow as you placed your last box. You checked the time on your phone before jumping into the shower, it was late evening and the apartment was never empty for this long- you began to grow concerned. Picking up your phone and scrolling through your contacts, your finger hovered over the various names before selecting Gaz’s. The phone rang for a moment before you were sent to voicemail. Sending a quick text to the group chat, and leaving a like to a meme Gabby sent earlier, you take a quick shower before making a start to dinner. Spoons had woken from their nap at the first smell of food as they sat on the countertop and watched your actions with a small tilt to their head.
As you add the last ingredients to your pasta dish, the task force comes barreling through the door as they each greet you before settling their belongings back within their rooms. You feel a pair of fingers loop through your jeans belt loops as they drag you away from the stovetop. Putting up a protest, you place your heels firmly against the floors as you fall into their front as your arms flail- looking for something to latch onto. Looking upwards you see the Captain staring down at you softly as bends down and throws you into his arms without much effort.
Calling for Spoons’ help they simply meow dully in the background as the Captain replies, “Good cat, Gabby told me you nearly worked yourself to death back at home- take a break love. I’ll finish up dinner. I’m sure the rest of the guys have stories to tell you about today.”
Giving his arm a light squeeze in thanks, John places you on the couch before returning to the kitchen. Ghost whips out a board game, setting the various pieces across the coffee table as Kyle and Johnny join you both, bringing beers and chairs from the dining room.
After various cheating allegations throughout the night and a few beers, everyone gave compliments to the chefs as you and Price bowed before the crowd and Ghost offered to wash the dishes. Settling yourself into bed with Spoons curled into your side, you watched as your ceiling fan drove itself in circles before taking in your medication and a dreamless sleep found you until the birds called once more.
--
The start to the new week has seen you in Gabbys office, lugging box after box of information and being sat at the photocopier and printer equally- updating various forms and spreadsheets. Laswell soon joined you both with the coffee order in hand as you all voiced your thanks- going back to work more invigorated. The hours went by to the sound of the clock's hands ticking away to fill the silence of your combined focus. Gabby stood like a supervillain mastermind in a cartoon. Her wall littered with red string and blurry photos as she pinpointed connections between evidence and interrogated you between emails on what conversations you picked up on.
A knock at the door breaks the interrogation as Price enters the room with a wink towards yourself. Gabby shoves your shoulder as Laswell refuses to bat even an eyelash to the scenario as she checks the clock and realises the hands were reaching towards dinnertime. Helping Gabby to stand, you ask her to join the team for dinner.
Gabby looks up towards the ceiling, a finger tapping against her chin as she hums out in contemplation. You and John look at one another before looking back at Fish, her head snaps over to meet both your faces once more, a smile hiding itself from the twitching corners of her lips before she walks between the two of you and out the door. Yelling down the hallway, “see you there!” Rolling your eyes, you stumble slighting as the lack of food and water leaning in towards the Captain, he gives you a much needed hug- your brain drained. So much so that you think to imagine his lips finding their place against your temple, a lingering sensation before his arms fall off your form and he guides you outside the room. But as you rub your eyes away- John stands with a hand against your lower back, shoving you slightly out of the room before following you towards the living quarters.
When you enter the apartment, you see a Scottishman taking a casserole dish out of the oven in a pink apron as Gaz stares blatantly at his rear. Your cheeks go red at the scene before you hear Gabby groan out from behind you, muttering a “not like this, not again.” Before shoving her way into the apartment much to your confusion.
By the end of the night, the next day finds you repeating the same patterns as earlier. Working yourself from the break of dawn and into the depths of night before Ghost finds you hollowed up and hiding away somewhere on base as he carries you back to the apartment. Johnny brings you lunch almost everyday- you don’t even realise your stomach rumbling as you devour the sandwich and drink before casting him a thankful smile that soon becomes hidden behind a computer screen. John calls you for dinner, glaring at Laswell as he argues for working you way too hard before you defend her actions to only be met by a glare and a gentle push out the door. Kyle does his best to stay awake by your side between training the new recruits and meetings- your coffee… hangout was long forgotten in the sea of photos that consumed your every waking-moment.
--
By the second week, you barely spent anytime with your team as the days came and went. You held back tears of frustration- no evidence was connecting as you desperately combed through paper after paper. Your task force often found you asleep between shelves in the datacentre or in an overhyped, caffeinated state as you and Gabby presented a lack of findings towards General Shepherd. Laswell standing off to the side, her head in her hands as she gripped out her blonde hair, Graves swore at the ceiling, the stomping of his combat boots echoing throughout the room as he paced- mind firing for ways to gather more intelligence to present. He wanted to show himself in front of your team yet not even his… unconventional methods were proving fruitful.
General Shepherd slammed the door behind himself, not speaking a word yet the actions cut deep all the same. Your best was not enough, the mere thought haunted your being and casted away your sleep. You felt as if you were back in your apartment, stacks of work covering your desk in an empty and unforgivable mind. Your best was never enough, had you panicking in your lucid working state as you gripped the desk and it cracked underneath the pressure- knuckles turning white. The memories of your old task force, of Horangi, of Köing came flooding in- you were so close, ever so close to the homestretch.
Those faces haunted you- their screams and hands reaching for your nearly severed limb before you were dragged into the darkness. A horn sounded- a chant unleashed as fire flooded your veins in overwhelming pain. A bag had you suffocating- trapped in space. They screamed for you, they pleaded at you to save them, yet the grinding of metal gears unleashed a newfound agony within you. Pictures of the man from the first mission imploded on your head- letting out a silent scream, you were losing yourself to these thoughts.
Time was merely a human invention that you had long forgotten when trapped inside that room, the smell of the fallens blood mixed with each bite of spoiled food you consumed. They all demanded answers or they demanded your emotions- your reactions as they gleefully dug through your skin, your hair… your body shook as tears streamed down your eyes- locked into those feelings once more.
A hand soon found its way over your own, caressing your grip off the table and into their lap. You shook in their touch, eyes still closed from the world as you sobbed out. They squeezed your hands before you flinched- your chair rocking as they gripped it still. Under your breath a series of small no’s echoed relentlessly before a shout came over them all.
Snapping your eyes open, a skull masked face stared down at you as they slowly reached for your hand once more. Flinching as Ghost grabbed your hand, you apologised for your actions before placing your other hand in their outstretched one and offered a wide smile. “It seems you caught me at a bad moment,” you speak in a wavering tone, your tears still clogging your throat as you look past his form while speaking.
--
Ghost stares down at you, he had seen horrors in his lifetime yet nothing matched your state. It was as if you were a resurrected corpse, for lack of a better way to put it. Crouching down to show you he meant no harm, he sat on the floor beside your chair, holding your hand and rubbing small circles across its surface. Evening out his breathing in an effort for you to copy the motions, your eyes still rapidly danced around the room- looking… waiting for something to happen.
Simon watches as you gradually slip back into your memories as panic starts to consume him, this one appears to be the worst so far. Reaching towards his phone, he speaks in hushed yet direct orders for Gabby to come into your workspace- alone before turning his phone on vibrate and pressing it back into his pocket.
He listens to you mumble, the words incoherent as you shutter from the air coming through the heater. Soon your arms move to grip the table once more that has Simon carrying you to the plush chair in the corner- afraid that you would injure yourself. Your nails grip into his arms as your feet kick at his knees before your eyes snap open and your movements halt.
Your breathing comes in short bursts as you shake and grab Simon's hands, bringing them up to your forehead as Ghost tries to coax you out once more. “Gaz or Price would be better with the words, hell even Johnny can come up with a coherent message every now and again. But you are stuck with me for now, Fis-Gabby is coming- she should know…”
Shaking your head against his hands, Ghost tilts his head in confusion. What were you disagreeing with? Or were these the memories still? “J-just stay here,” you softly speak out with closed eyes- doing your best to stay present.
“I will…” Ghost states, “...I will be here.”
You don’t manage to reply before small shakes fill your system once more, Simon squeezes your hands before speaking up once more and praying for Gabby to come with a faster working solution. His hard hammered in his chest, shattering repetitively while observing your falling state. “My name is Simon,” the ghost-faced man blurts out. The suddenness of these words have you shocking slightly out of state before your head begins to fall heavy and you fall sideways against the chair's plush arm.
“Simon?” you croak out lightly, eyes blinking through tears as you stare into the lampshade from across the room.
“Simon.”
“Simon’s a nice name…” you trail off, eyes now focusing on the rattling door handle as your breath hitches and you pull Simon into your arms, trying to protect the large man against the intruder as you begin to plead for mercy.
Gabby bursts into the room and closes the door quickly behind her, throwing her keys onto your desk as she dashed over to your side. A bottle of water in hand she eases your grip off Simon as you sob into her arms and explain. “I-It happened. They were back- I saw them- I-I…”
“You saved them, Dice. Don’t let them make you think otherwise, do you hear my breathing? Do you feel my heartbeat?” she presses your hand to her chest, looking deeply into your eyes as you rest your forehead against her own. “Your squad makes the same lifesigns, we can go see them- together later, okay?”
You shake your head to Gabbys words, “No. Laswell said they think poorly of me- they work for Graves now… want nothing to do with me…” you trail off, picking your head up and looking at Simon who shakes his head slightly at you before staring down at his boots. Returning your gaze back to Gabbys awaiting eyes she offers a counter-argument, “I think I remember Commander Graves offering a seat within his ranks- Laswell was so pissed at the thought of losing you, isn’t that right Ghost?” Gabby says while looking over her shoulder, a small smile playing across her features.
“Yes. She was very adamant about you staying here with us,” Simon replies while looking at you, eyes trailing down your tearstained thoughts as he moves to grab a few tissues. Dabbing your face, your breathing has returned to a somewhat normal state as you take your medication and say your thanks.
“I don’t think I would- could leave again… I think this team is for me…” you say in a confident tone as Gabby gives a small cheer before teasing out, “Don’t let management hear that! Price would have a right flip from hearing those words, let alone Laswell.” Giving into her enthusiasm, Simon does the same as he relaxes against your desk before moving sharply within the blink of an eye as someone enters the room. Shielding you from their view, Simon pulls the person into the hall and shuts the door softly behind him.
Furrowing your eyebrows and looking at Gabby, she simply shrugs her shoulders and offers you a hand to stand. Wavering while grasping the chair for support. You waddle back over to your desk and take another sip of water before reaching into your bag for a snack. Splitting your fruit with Fish, you both observe the new recruits running through the obstacle course as she chats idly about her day and points to one of the sargents ordering the training that asked her on a date the other day.
Pressing a tease to hide a slight drop of your heart, Gabby comments on how happy she is that you are back to your regular self as you shove her off your desk with a laugh escaping you both. Her cheeks noticeably pink as she answers the knock at your door and turns into the hallway to address whomever it was. Your curiosity peaks as Simon has yet to return, fixing your appearance in the glasses reflection. You pack your belongings and exit to the hall. Looking up and down you sigh out- it was empty.
Checking you have everything in your bag, you lock the door and make your way towards your car and back to your old apartment where some much needed Spoons cuddles awaited you in the crisp weekend air.
--
For the weekend you had locked yourself away in your apartment, living out your old lifestyle in an effort to wipe the slate clean for the next week. Hoping that some newfound connections would come running into your mind from having this break. Spoons meow loudly, throwing you out of bed as they demanded to be served food.
Stumbling into your kitchen and flicking on the kettle, you and Spoons both took your medication together before eating breakfast at your desk as you scrolled through your blog page. Various comments littered your feed, wishing you well on your extended break from social media, as a few old clients sent kind words in your direct messages. Smiling while replying to a few, Gabby posted a comment in shock that you were back online as you sent her a picture of you showing her the bird.
Laughing to yourself before switching off your phone. You looked around your apartment and got to cleaning from your over two months departure. Music rang through your apartment as you danced with the broom and sung with the feather-duster. Spoons found their favorite place on the windowsill as they swatted away the electrical cord to the vacuum-cleaner. And soon enough dinner was being ordered and served in the living room.
Sleep found you between episodes of bringing a new series on some streaming platform as the radiator hummed to life by your bedside. In the morning you read the paper and greeted your elderly neighbor who provided an array of excellent baked goods that were devoured that very morning. You could picture a distraught Gabby at hearing you left none for her.
--
You felt weird returning to the grocery store for a meal that night- it had been a long while since your last visit the cashier said to you- you could only shrug in response before wishing them a goodnight and stepping back out onto the nightlife-filled streets. The rain returned as you dashed back to your apartment and came in for a warm shower. Giving Spoons a little splash as they ran out the bathroom door and into the safety of their cattree you laughed at their stereotypical behaviour before drying yourself off and turning on yet another episode while cooking.
You felt fulfilled when you were driving back to the base the next morning. A weekend spent solemnly to yourself, and well, Spoons of course. Yet a break was well served alongside a surprise that awaited you when the door twisted open and you were met with more bodies in the shared space than usual.
--
Hanging your jacket by the door and peering into the kitchen, you see Gabby standing with a cup of coffee in hand as she laughs at yet another one of Soap's dad jokes before they both give you a wave of hello between laughs and you carry onwards to stagger in your steps.
There on the couch sat Horangi and Köing, dressed in an all black uniform with their signature masks covering their faces. They have yet to notice you, stifling a laugh- as your body tries to process the overwhelming happiness and yet stress that envelopes your system. Ghost sits off to the side as they all stare at one another, none-opening conversation as they analyze each other's face covering choices.
Gabby turns around the corner and yells out a surprise that has you bunching up your shoulders to your head as everyone turns to face the noise. Eyes going wide Horangi quickly stands without a word and storms up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and giving your face a good look as he cups your cheek. A shuddering breath can be heard escaping his chest before he pulls you into a hug.
Your hands stay stagnant by your sides as your brain fires, trying to process all the elements currently at play. You hear as your Captain orders for him to let you go, a warm hand going against the flat of your back has you snapping back to the current just as Hong-jin begins to pull-away. Your hands make fast movements of pulling at his shirt as he stumbles back into your arms. You swear to feel him smile from behind the mask as he places his head against your hair and you sigh out before letting go and looking over his shoulder to find an awaiting Austrian.
Running over to the couch, you jump into his open arms with great laughter as Gabby squeals in the background, squeezing Kim’s side in an effort to contain herself as Hong-jin offers a breathy chuckle- shock still coursing through his system from seeing you alive and happy in front of his once again.
Köing stands, not knowing where to place his hands, looking towards Horangi for advice. Hong-jin provides a physical example by turning Gabby around in his arms for a hug. Köing follows these actions as you hug back with equal vigor. Gabby soon begins to voice her protests to the hug for Kim only to warn her to shut up. Placing a gloved hand over her mouth as he wags a finger from his other hand in her view in warning. Biting his hand playfully, Horangi waves it dramatically, almost hitting Soap in the crossfire who crosses his arms a blank expression covering his face in reaction to the scene.
Gaz views in the dining room, looking over the space from afar as he leans against the table. He is doing his best to wear a smile, happy to see your overjoyed state- especially after not seeing you for two weeks. Yet he hoped that your first moments back would be shared as a team (including Gabby). Not with… people from your past who seemed to produce the largest of smiles and the most beautiful of creases at the edges of your eyes. Kyle's chest tightened as did his fists before Simon joined him and grunted out a few choice words before stating how odd it was that you knew so many people who wore masks.
He knew of your history together as Gabby explained to him once you left your apartment. In all the reports he had to study throughout the years, the scene that Gabby illustrated of your mind was a newfound horror that held him feeling that these men were partially responsible for said memories. Not slipping a word of his thoughts to Gaz, he merely nodded in response from then-on as his squad member ranted. Yet soon all these small conversations amongst the apartment would come to a halt.
“Okay boys,” Graves makes his presence known as he kicks the door close behind him. “It is time to hold our reunions and get to work. We have more people to bury and a meeting to attend to before that. New leads came in early this morning from one of our boys doing an inside-job. It is go-time!” The commander cheers out before offering the Captain a pat on the shoulder on his way out.
Price rolls his shoulder from the touch as he makes sure the door is closed before addressing the room, his eyes falling onto you still in Köing’s arms as you don’t even pay attention to anything else happening in the room. Too enveloped into asking what the various unique badges from Shadow company met that were stitched neatly into his uniform and from what missions he ensued the new stipes in.
The gentle giant laughed anxiously underneath his hood in embarrassment from the attention. Even after all these years away and in your presence, these social spikes still affected him to varying degrees. Hiding his slightly shaking hand from Price's view by placing it on his own, he cheered internally at watching your face light up with a smile when he asked about your photography work online that held you in shock. Pulling away from his touch to search through his eyes.
“You followed my work?” A mixture of anxiousness from withheld excitement comes through your tone as the Köing nods and you hear Horangi shout from behind you. Turning your head to see him playfullying wrestling Gabby in his arms as she knees him in the gut and they fall to the floor- racing to pin one another between laughs. Shaking your head while giving Kim’s boot a light kick you turn back to Köing and whip out your phone. Showing you the new photos you took over the weekend with enthusiasm.
Köing points down to a pinned comment underneath an post you made over a year ago, tilting your head you question if this was his favorite one yet he only shakes his head in response before pointing one more and saying in a gentle even tone- hiding the emotion ridden cry, “that comment is from me… I have always loved your creative work- overjoyed in fact when you decided to pursue it despite the… circumstances…”
You hug the man once more, your hands now shaking as emotions stir from behind your eyes and fall down your cheeks- pools of happiness. Köing continues to speak, “I’m sorry, please don’t apologise for me… the situation all those years ago was the addition of bad decisions. I only wish it was me in your shoes, taking it… taking it all… and all that happened afterwards…”
You latch yourself onto his chest rig, the fabric rigid against your fingertips as you shake your head against his chest. Feeling as his large hands rub up and down your back as his chest rises and falls with his own soft cries. “I would bear that pain, that torture again- I still do at times…” you take a deep breath before continuing, “but knowing well that I get this moment now… seeing you breathing, feeling your heartbeat… I would not say it was worth it, many lives were lost, but…” your old squad lets out a dark chuckle, “...it helped us all to discover what is worth such a price.”
Köing places his head to your shoulder, his large frame casting a blanket over your own as he nods in response to your words. You feel the dampness of his mask against your shirt as Horangi stands a loser from his battle against Gabby, seeking the familiar comfort of you all together as he joins for a group hug. Gabby snaps a photo as you hear your phone ding. Putting up a thumbs up from under their large limbs- Price claps and clears his throat before he is interrupted.
Graves comes back into the apartment once realizing no one listened to his earlier orders, “Meeting- NOW!” he demands, leaving the door open this time as your current squad files out of the room first as you trail behind with Horangi and Köing- conversations still flowing.
--
Stepping into the meeting room, a few other Shadow members nodded towards their superior officers before turning back to face the slidedeck where Laswell stood organizing some last minute information. General Shepherd was seated just beside her, offering only a nod towards Graves who tipped him a light smile back before addressing his team as Horangi and Köing left your side. Turning to find a seat open beside Soap. You offer him a smile before placing yourself down in the office chair- spinning to face the front as you flip open your notebook.
The usual arm is not found around the top of your chair that has your earlier smile falling as the meeting drags on. You already knew much of the intelligence being shared from your over two week extravaganza with Gabby back at the offices yet what surprises you is how Graves managed to obtain more locations to hidden supply settlements and connected family homes. Giving the American a slight side-eye, he gives you nothing but that commercial smile as a slight bow to his head- as if awaiting your applause. Rolling your eyes and shoulders from the growing stress- you pick at the material of your pants, spinning a pen in your other hand as you listen to Laswell flick through a dozen more slides.
Soon a map is being dispaped and the General is on his feet- Graves hot on his tail as they rush to place icons across its surface. Showcasing how squads would infiltrate the site and eventually blow it down to the ground. Head snapping up at this newfound information, you look towards your Captain who mouths a later alongside a shake of his head that leaves you reeling back in equal confusion and concern.
Looking to the other end of the table, Horangi merely shrugs towards you before addressing a question from his commander while Köing refuses to make eye contact with another in the room- gaze focused only on the map and icons spread against the table. Price now stands, his chair screeching against the tiles that have you snapping your head over to observe his movements. Walking around the table to stand beside you he points to various squad members, offering repositioning and pointing towards Graves for some eyes in the sky who claps once before voicing his agreement- knowing the dollar signs are only adding up with a plastered against his thin lips.
You watch as Gabby groans and rolls her eyes, she already hears an earful from the financial team for her own spending budget- she did not ever want to know how much they were commissioning for help from the Shadow Company. Leaning over to see what she wrote down in her journal- your memories reminisce to school days with sharing homework answers as she tilts the pages upwards to greet your face. A few dot-points are scattered among the blue lines alongside a few drawings and… caricatures of people from within the room that have you hiding your giggles in between coughs and a request for water.
--
As the hours tick by and a few staff bring in lunch for a brief break to the meeting, you dash towards the washrooms and return to see Köing standing in the corner, looking out for you with two plates in hand. You voice your thanks before digging in as he turns to face the wall, lifting up his mask to eat as well. Horangi soon joins you in the corner, pulling over a chair and taking a seat, he pats his thigh asking if you want to sit with him.
The tone he asks in is honest, hiding no underlying motives- yet the question leaves you a silent bit modified nonetheless as you shake your head in reply and see as Simon turns his back to continue listening to whatever Price was describing to him in a serious expression.
Soap and Gaz chatted with Gabby at the other half of the room- stealing food off each other's plates and tasing one another's drinks- siblings they all were truly, you thought to yourself before you began catching up with Horangi once more.
He told you about the various clients he worked for in the West- ranging from raging politicians to a ‘hopeless romantic’ ex-girlfriend. You choked on your food, trying to contain your mortified mixed laughter as he spoke of the work like an average blue-collared Tuesday. Köing only nodded in agreement to the outrageous stories, commenting on how a woman tried to handle him while disarming a bomb and providing exfil communications through comms.
Soon they were begging to hear what missions you had gotten up to, and how your new team was treating you. There was a glint in Horangi’s eyes underneath the glasses that he wore in a lit room as he turned his head to take a look at your Captain and Ghost before extending his leg out, placing a boot in between your shoes as Köing shifted beside you. Blocking your earlier view of Gaz and Soap.
“They treat me more than fair-”
“Mhm…” Horangi cuts you off.
You reply with a degree of hostility, “I'm still alive if that counts for something in your books?”
Horagni sits more upright, a slight tilt to his head has you peering into his actual eyes- his glasses slipping down his masked nose. “I know you can keep yourself safe, their records show it too. I just need to know if there are any… other effects that may concern me?”
“Effects? Are you seriously asking me about my meds? Seriously Kim?”
“No,” He pinches his nose before grabbing your hand and applying a light pressure as he pulls you closer. “Look, I just had a bit of a… rough welcoming from the dudes on your team. I just want to know if they did the same to you- just so I know how hard to punch back while in the parking lot later today.”
Taking a moment to process his words, your eyes go wide before you start to pull of his mask- concerned for the damage done. He grabs your wrist gently, shaking his head before looking around the room as you do the same. People are beginning to back up their belongings for the meeting to resume. Sighing out before answering with a pointed look i your eye, “you better tell me about where you got hurt and from who- I’ll be having a word. But I never received such treatment- I apologize on their behalf for now that they did that to you, I wouldn’t begin to know why they would do so…”
Horangi nods once before standing and pushing his chair back to the table. Köing as quiet as ever refuses to reply when you ask if he received the same treatment- only placing a hand on your shoulder to give you a light shove back to your seat before he returns to his side of Graves.
--
After the lunch period had ended, a new slidedeck was shown across the screen, this time Graves was highlighting all the various technology and weaponry he would be providing as part of the “complete shadow package.” Cringing up your spine and placing your head into your hand. You continued to write notes as your handwriting progressively worsened by the hour.
An applause completes Grave’s portion of the meeting before General Shepard stands and addresses your current squad. Taking the time to meet each of your eyes for the first time in the meeting- his eyes lingering at Prices near the end of the table as he speaks. “To ensure the success of our collaborative objective- a series of smaller deployments will lead to our cumulative attack.”
Slamming his hands against the table, Shepard continues, “ We still need to nail down who is moving the money from the capital to their pockets alongside what front that ‘charity gala’ was hiding in their skirts and flutes. And I want them all fucking nailed to my door in three weeks time- are we understood?”
A series of “yes, sir’s” are stirred around the room before Gabby opens her mouth, about to ask a question before getting cut off by Laswell speaking up.
“The departure is in three weeks time, we have yet to fly in the rest of our teams from around the world. As Graves in his men will have to go back across the pond to secure the gear and ship it all over. In that meanwhile, all present in the room today are expected to continue training procedures as usual alongside pickup extra physical assessment tests to ensure the security of this mission and its participants. Thank you- you all are excused,” Laswell addresses the meeting as many hurriedly walk out to grab dinner before the caf.closes or to make the evening rush home.
“And what will we be calling this attack?” Gabby questions out into the emptying room, she wanted a name good enough to place within the records as you take your time to pack your belongings, curious to the decided name.
“Mission: Spill,” is all Laswell offers before walking out the room with Commander Graves chatting her ear off in tow.
╰┈➤ A/N: Really loved writing this chapter, so much is planned to happen in the next few chapters- prepare for the ANGST to come. Mwahahaha!
Lasting Pictures Series
(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6) (pt.7) (on-going)
you are here
a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The last four letters will be the same, so heads up!
warnings: mentions of panic attacks, fighting, guns, slightly detailed murder, mention of a lot of blood, police officers, ambulances, implied post-traumatic stress disorder, trauma, and foster homes
The Fourteenth Letter
As soon as the plane landed, Timothée quickly made his way off of the plane—he was practically pushing through passengers just so he could make his way out—he had no time left to lose; he needed to find Y/n as soon as possible. Timothée was, without a doubt, scared. He wasn’t sure what would be waiting for him at the address he had in his hands.
What if he had the wrong address? What if the place was long gone? What if….Timothée couldn’t even bear to think about the worst-case scenario—even if it was possible. What if’s and maybe’s were scattered throughout his mind. Timothée wanted to think positively—that she was alright, safe, and sound at least—but those negative thoughts were inevitable, given the contents of Y/n’s letters.
Timothée sighed, running a shaky hand through his curls as he strolled to the airport’s exit. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he scanned the area for the car his manager had arranged for him, his mind racing with all the possibilities of what could be.
When he finally spotted his ride, Timothée stepped in and gave the driver the address, urging the driver to drive as fast as he legally could. The driver looked at him skeptically, eyebrows knitted in confusion, but nonetheless did as Timothée asked. As the car weaved through the crowded city streets, Timothée’s phone rang all of a sudden. The young actor sighed, picking up the call.
“Timmy, darling?” His mother’s voice spoke from the other line. “Where are you?”
“I’m on my way to a friend's,” Timothée lied, staring out of the car window.
“Oh, alright,” Nicole hummed, though Timothée felt like his mother knew that he was lying. “Anyway, there was a young woman looking for you just fifteen minutes ago.”
Timothée’s brows knitted in confusion. “Looking for me? Who was it?”
“I didn’t catch her name, but she left a letter.”
Timothée’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of a letter. “A letter?”
“Yes, a letter,” Nicole confirmed. “Like the last time.”
“The last time?”
“A basket of letters. Did you receive them?” Nicole asked. “I asked Pauline to drop it off at the hotel you were staying at in Paris, since she was going the same way.”
“Oh,” Timothée said, gaping at the realization. The letters were delivered to his childhood home, and his mother asked his sister to drop them off. But who delivered the letters? Was it Y/n? “Who delivered the basket, Mom?”
“The basket was left on our doorstep, sweetheart,” Nicole replied, sending shivers down Timothée's spine.
It was possible that it was Y/n who delivered the letters, but she sent them. She had mentioned in a letter before that she had used all of her extra money for stamps and such, meaning she had sent them in the mail. How the hell did the letters get compiled? Who the hell sent them to him, if not Y/n? Why the fuck were the letters delivered too damn late?
Finally, the car pulled up to the address he had scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper, snapping Timothée out of his daze. He quickly thanked the driver and stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk, his eyes scanning the old run-down building with a large signage with Oregon Sweet Angels Children’s Home written in peeling red paint on a fading yellow background.
Timothée took a step closer, peeking through the boarded windows for a sign of Y/n—or maybe a glimpse of what was inside, of old photos hanging on the walls, or if there was anything else left that could lead him to her, as it was obvious that the children’s home was long forgotten.
The actor sighed as he sat on the steps of the old building, disappointed at the fact that he had traveled forty hours for nothing. Maybe it was stupid of him to assume that he could find her; he had received the letters too late.
Taking a deep breath, Timothée fished the fourteenth letter from his pocket. “Fourteenth, four more left.”
August 15, 2023
Dear Timothée,
I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had a panic attack this bad since……
I heard a loud, echoing gunshot from outside of my apartment, and I just froze in place. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and couldn’t think. Because a gunshot tossed me back into the system for the remaining years of my childhood—if I could even call that a childhood.
It was the summer before I started high school.
My aunt still treated me like shit, the bare minimum, and all that. CPS still came by every week, making sure I was happy—I wasn’t—and healthy. It was annoying to act like I was okay, that everything was alright, and that there wasn't anything wrong when clearly there was. But who was I to complain? I was the orphan forced to be raised against the only family I had left's will. In everyone else's eyes, I was happy and loved. But not one of them bothered to look behind the damn curtains.
I constantly stayed in my room, making sure the door was locked and my headphones were right beside my bed.
Why, you ask?
It's because my aunt brought home a man, her fiancé; let's call him Leo.
It's not that I didn't like Leo—he was kind, he always gave me books, and we'd bond over our shared love for literature—but they always fought. It wasn't like normal fights; they would yell, they would scream, and it involved a lot of hitting and breaking things—courtesy of my aunt, I suppose, because she was the only unhinged person I've ever known. Their fights would always revolve around cheating; my aunt constantly accused Leo of cheating when he didn't. He was loyal, even though my aunt wasn't the best pea in the pod. Leo loved her, but my aunt kept on looking past that, always believing things he wasn't even capable of doing.
I was honestly scared that Leo would one day realize that my aunt was not the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Leo was like a second father to me; he said he sees me as his own and that he'd love to adopt me once he and my aunt got married.
But all that never happened.
I was sitting in my room, reading peacefully, when I heard them fighting again. At first, I didn’t pay much attention to it because their fighting was practically normal at that point, and I was used to it by then. I shook it off to the side and put my headphones on, but before I even got to play the song from my playlist, I heard a loud, deafening echo of a gunshot from the living room downstairs. I quickly got up; my ears were ringing and my vision blurred as I held the doorknob, opening it with shaking hands. I stepped out of my room, slowly creeping down the stairs, peeking over the railings.
The first thing I saw was Leo.
Lying in a pool of his own blood, slowly dying.
I stood there, frozen. The sight of the wound on the left side of his chest, where the bullet pierced through, sucked the air right out of my lungs. The white Persian rug underneath Leo’s pale and lifeless body absorbed the blood, staining it completely and making my mind blank out. All I could hear was the loud firing of the gun, taking Leo’s life in an instant, that easily.
My aunt stood there, the gun still in her shaking hands, as she stared down at her fiancé’s body, realizing what she had just done was not reversible. She didn’t notice me approaching Leo’s body. I wanted to scream at her; I wanted to charge at her and hit her again and again for killing the only person I had left who cared and loved me after I lost everything that I’ve ever known. But I just stood there as tears flowed down my cheeks, feeling hollow and broken inside—the first time I ever felt that way. After what felt like an eternity, my aunt finally looked up at me—the gun against her forehead—and before I could utter a word, she fired the gun, taking her own life just as easily as she took Leo’s.
I fell onto my knees as the ringing of the gunshot replayed again and again in my ears like a fucking merry-go-round, choking out sobs as I stared at the lifeless bodies in front of me. I didn’t know what to do. Again, I wanted to scream and shout, but nothing came out of my throat other than raspy breaths. I knelt there like an idiot for what felt like forever, wondering what I did to fucking deserve this. How the fuck could anyone hurt a little kid?
Eventually, I grabbed the phone—Leo’s phone—from the coffee table and dialed 911 with my hands shaking. A little while later, the police and ambulances arrived, and immediately one of the RMTs rushed towards me. I was still kneeling in front of Leo’s body, so the RMT wrapped me in her arms and slowly escorted me out to one of the ambulances. I was shaking and sweating while one of the police officers who responded asked me questions about what happened.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
The scene kept replaying itself again and again. I just kept on crying silently, until the RMT who took me out of the house said it was better to take me to the hospital first to recover from the trauma, and a psychiatrist would be better given what I had to witness. I just sat there until I saw bodies getting loaded into the other two ambulances—Leo and my sorry excuse for an aunt’s bodies—in black body bags. I never, ever expected that I’d see someone I loved die in front of my eyes again. First my parents, then Leo.
I was then whisked away to the nearest hospital. The hospital where I woke up three years prior. I was back to square one, now a literal orphan. No more family.
I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. I spent a week in the hospital, crying and crying again and again until I ran out of tears. Psychiatrists, therapists, nurses, and doctors all tried to help me open up, but none of them were ever successful.
After my stay at the hospital, I was thrown into foster care—Oregon Sweet Angels Children’s Home—for good this time. I spent my first few days stuck in bed; I didn’t have the energy to mingle with the other kids my age—I was thirteen, turning fourteen in a few months at that time—no one wants a broken girl for a friend, and it’s sure as hell that no one wants to adopt a teen who has nightmares each and every goddamn night.
Now, the trauma’s haunting me. Every fucking time, and this one isn’t all of it.
I’m all alone now.
My parents died, Leo got murdered, Ava moved out, and Julie’s moved to another state. Who do I have left now, Timmy? Do I have you? I'm scared that everyone I’ll love will leave me. You weren’t even mine to begin with, but I’m still scared to lose you.
I've been praying again and again for somebody to save me—a knight in shining armor, for all I care—but no one’s been heroic enough. All that I did to try to undo it, all of my pain, and all their excuses. I was a kid, but I wasn't fucking clueless. At eleven, I understood that someone who loves you wouldn't do any of this. All of my past, I tried to erase it. But now I see, would I even change it?
What was I fucking made for?
All my love,
Y/n
Timothée felt his heart clench, tears pricking his eyes, threatening to fall as he finished reading the fourteenth letter. Y/n had been through so much, so fucking much. She was just a little girl—a little girl who had already gone through hell and back again and again. Timothée felt his stomach twist with guilt, even though it wasn’t his fault.
Or was it?
Had he received all of her letters earlier, Timothée would've reached out to her sooner. She had been so alone and traumatized for years, living through a nightmare that a child should never have to experience. Timothée pressed the letter to his chest, wiping away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks with one hand. He stood up, tucking the letter back in its envelope and putting it back in his pocket.
Timothée took a deep breath, turning around to take one last look at the children’s home—the place where Y/n spent four years of her life alone—before making his way back to the car that was waiting for him.
He wasn’t going to give up. He was going to find Y/n, he was going to be the hero she desperately needed, and he wasn’t going to stop until he did.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
One day Timothée receives a package from someone unknown: a basket of eighteen letters. Letters from a girl named y/n. A mysterious fan who poured her heart out in her letters and is trying to fix herself. As Timothée begins to read, and the letters begin to run out, he finds himself falling for this girl. Until one day he stopped reading.
alright, this is a little self indulgent, BUT—here’s a list of my top 10 favorite fics i’ve ever written. i’ve written a lot of shitty work, and some semi shitty work, but i occasionally write something i’m proud of, and these are it!
thank you so much to anyone who has supported my work, especially these fics :)
—
and now, in no particular order:
1. Enchanted - Nikolai Lantsov
2. Feeling - Sirius Black
3. Good Fortune - Carmen Berzatto
4. Holding Onto a Mirrorball - Nikolai Lantsov
5. Sweet Creature - Rhaenyra Targaryen
6. You and Me - Jon Snow
7. Paper Rings - Sirius Black
8. Doomsday - Aemond Targaryen
9. Home - Sirius Black
10. Muña - Alicent Hightower
—
idk if this what y’all consider my best work, but hopefully you enjoyed these fics. i think they’re all decent lol, some more than others. “feeling” is probably my favorite!
ALSO! my requests are still open! here’s the list of characters i’m currently writing for, please send any ideas you have in :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
