#CAN YOU IGNORE THE INCORRECT TAG IF YOU SAW IT

[nephilimbrute]

Late night posting. Thingy i made when i was losing my mind i might render it

[gomzwrites]

Task force 141 found out about your soft spots

Summary: You’re one of the members in the taskforce, and you’re one of the more quiet, self-reserved and stoic soldiers among them. They didn’t mind since they respected your personal space, but at some point, they saw just a glimpse of your rather different, softer side. a/n: I’ve had this idea in mind for a long time and just wanted to get this out there, English is not my main language so I apologize for any mistakes along the way! This is also my first fic so feedbacks are appreciated :] Tags: incorrect military terms/training, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic, x gn!reader, reader's text is in purple Part 2 is out! PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION 

Captain John Price

You were on a mission with Price in another city, stalking and trailing the target, when suddenly the target decided to take a turn and entered a cafe. With the captain’s signal, both of you followed and took a spot in one of the corners in the warm, bustling cafe. It was a perfect atmosphere; the cafe was not necessarily noisy, but the number of people and music were busy enough for you and your captain to stay hidden and blend in well. You kept a keen eye on the target, noticing that he was in the queue and, so far, not presenting any signs of danger or threats. The captain gave your foot a nudge as he diverted your attention to the young waitress beside the table that you didn’t notice. "Hi! What would you like to order?" The waitress spoke in the local language that you didn't understand, but you knew she was most likely trying to take an order with the way she held a small notepad and a pen. You gave a small nod as you glanced at Captain for a moment, who was also reading the menu. You do the same, only frowning slightly as you couldn't read anything as well, and because you wanted to get this over with, you randomly pointed at one item to the waitress as she smiled and jotted down your order.

When the waitress walked away, you followed the captain’s gaze on the target; it seemed that he was still in line. You're slightly confused but relieved that the target remains in sight. Not long after, the drinks ordered previously arrived, but your eyes remained fixated on the sketchy figure. It wasn't until the Captain cleared his throat that you broke your gaze and stared down at the table. You froze slightly at the sight before you.

You watched a little wiggle action of the foam on top of what you assume is coffee before you. Except it's not the normal flat latte art kind of foam, but a huge bear foam with a cute face drawn with chocolate. You blink once, then twice before releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding.

This is so cute!! 

You thought to yourself internally as you felt yourself smiling, before realising the situation at hand as you snapped your head towards the captain, hoping he didn't see you, and to your relief, his eyes were still glued to the target. You take this opportunity to slowly take out your phone and take a quick picture of the drink before doing the same and observing the target again. As soon as you do, the target made its move and headed to the exit, which made the both of you follow promptly, seemed like he had a bag as well which was definitely not good news. You were a bit disappointed that you were not given the chance to try the cute drink, but you know you have a job to do, so you just hope that perhaps you can take a closer look again at the coffee later on your phone.

What you didn’t know was how the Captain noticed the change in your demeanour when you spotted the drink; he honestly wasn't expecting much from you, thinking you might just ignore it. But he saw from the corner of his eyes just how your eyes widen slightly, how they are shining when you realize what you ordered, and the way your cheeks had a shade of pink on it as you smile. He rarely gets to see you smile, and he found it endearing to think a cold soldier like you has a liking for cute things. He smiled internally as he noticed how you took the photo sneakily when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He made a mental note to bring you to a cafe he knows that have those famous latte art drinks after the mission, just to see you smile like that again.

John Soap MacTavish

The military base has decided to bring in military working dogs to aid in the next mission, which involves scouting and detection for drug detection at the port, where secret drug trafficking from a certain group of terrorists has been reported.  

"Soap, you’re assigned to Max and Judy; you’ll have to talk to Sergeant Sam about the training," the Captain says as he walks through the compound. You noticed how Soap seemed to tense slightly as he clenched his jaw; you also noticed how his breath hitched as he stared at the two German shepherds standing on the sides of the dog handler; you knew he had a bad history with canines in general when you stumbled upon his journal once; and seeing how uncomfortable he was, you decided to step up for the job.

"Captain, can I do it instead?" The captain glanced back, his beard shifting as he thinks for a moment before nodding and giving you permission. Soap stared at you upon hearing your voice and gave you an apologetic yet grateful look as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Aye thanks… Let me know if yae ever need something from meh in the future."

He watched as you gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder as you nodded. Unbeknownst to him, you actually own a German Shepherd yourself, and you’re very much a dog person, and you’re excited to start the training with the military dogs. He stood on the side as you approached the two dogs, nodding along to the instructions given by Sam. As you bent down and extended your hand out, the two dogs gave a few sniffs before finally warming up to you, with their tails wagging as they circle your body. He’s impressed with how friendly you seem with animals, and you were natural with the dogs.

After the training, he went around looking for you as he held a bottle of ice-cold mineral water, hoping that he could give it to you since you were training heavily under the hot, blazing sun. As he turned a corner, right behind the shed, he heard a few barks. He softened his steps as he leant in and took a peek behind the wall, and he was glad he did.

Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! Come here! Oooh, such a big boy are you? You did such a great job with me just now~ oh! No wait wait- aH-!

He watched with a grin as he took in the image before him. You, giggling and rolling on the floor as the dogs lick and nuzzle your face and neck, having fun and relaxing with the dogs. He would almost forget that they were military dogs, and yet, with you? They looked domestic. On top of that, he has never heard you laugh or speak like this before; sure, you were using a baby voice and all as you cooed the dog, but he didn’t care because you have the softest yet brightest giggle, a stark contrast to your usual stoic self. He left after watching you for a while, smiling as he walked away to let you have your moments with the doggies. Next time, he’ll definitely want to join you in the training if it means getting to see this side of you more often. 

Kyle Gaz Garrick 

You groan as you sit on the passenger side as Gaz drives the Jeep. It was almost 9.30 pm as you were both ordered to buy a few furniture pieces, tables, and chairs specifically as an emergency thanks to Soap breaking them when he was messing around earlier.

"Why can’t we buy it tomorrow?"

Gaz asks as he, too, frowns and crosses his arms as a yawn escapes his mouth.

"We have a meeting with the other members from London tomorrow, and we can’t make them sit on the floor now, can we?"

Captain replied with a sigh as he frowned; he too was tired and annoyed with the situation, but he has a point. Gaz has asked you for help since the furniture needs to be carried, and you followed along (not without silently complaining).

The day has been terrible for you, it seems like bad luck was looming around your shoulders in every moment. Just this morning, you stubbed your toe and you couldn’t find your left sock, then sprained your shoulder slightly during the sparring session with Ghost. Not only that, the sandwiches that you always order for dinner were out of stock, so overall, you’re not having the best day. But who can you blame? You just decided to suck it up as you nod and follow Gaz. 

After parking a spot in IKEA, both of you decided to split up to find the respective wood and parts of the tables and chairs that, thankfully, the details of them have been sent to you by the Captain, so that the process can be faster before the store closes for the night. You sigh as you place the last part of the table in the trolley, crossing off the last serial number and name. You walk towards the place that Gaz told you to meet up with before stopping when you walk past the kid's section.

There it is, in all its glory: Djungelskog and the other notable plushies in the corner. Truth be told, you actually own two Blåhaj (they're in your house) and a baby Blåhaj in the quarters. You’re a big fan of plushies, especially the ones from IKEA and Miniso. You just haven't saved up enough cash to bring the big brown bear home. You take a step, then another, inching closer to the tray, until you’re right in front of the bear. You glanced around to make sure no one is around before you gently pick up the bear, thankful that there weren't many people in the first place due to the late hour. Without a second thought, you gave in and squish your face into its tummy as you give a big sigh and hug it tightly, smiling to yourself as you feel the stress dissolving away. Something about burying yourself in the soft cushion of cotton is healing for you; it gives you a safe, warming feeling, and it reminds you of the comfort that you never got much of as a kid.

You gave it a few more squeezes before finally parting ways with the bear, softly nudging its nose a few times as you whispered softly:

I swear I’ll come and bring you home next time I come.

You smile and place the bear back in its original position, glancing at it one last time as you spot Gaz in the distance, then swiftly push the trolley towards him. Gaz pays for the parts, and both of you head to the car. You get ready in your seat and fasten the seatbelt before Gaz speaks up.

"Oh, I forgot something. Give me a sec"

You haven’t even had the chance to ask back as he bolted back into IKEA. What did he forget? All the parts have been bought, and the store is nearing its closing time as well, but whatever it is, you waited patiently.

Maybe it's because of the long day, but as you rested your head on the window, you dozed off while you were waiting and didn’t wake up until you heard the driver's side car door open.

"Sorry it took awhile, we’ll go back now"

You nod sleepily as you murmur. "What did you forget?"

"Oh, don't worry about it", Gaz replies as he presses the gas pedal and promptly drives back to the base. You didn’t question further; you figured he probably needed something himself.

You went straight to bed after dropping off the equipment for Soap and Ghost to handle, immediately passing out as you landed on the soft bed.

The next morning, you were getting ready for the day as you stretched, satisfied that at least the sleep last night was good enough. As you open the door, a soft material lands in your room with a soft “umph” sound, you immediately look down cautiously, and that's when you see it.

Djungelskog, with its head tilted to your side as its fluffy hand remains on its tummy, on your floor. You were confused, and frankly, you were not awake enough to fully comprehend what just happened. But once you connected the dots, you smiled to yourself as you lifted the bear up and hugged it.

You make sure to buy Gaz something next time as a thank you.

Simon Ghost Riley

The day was mundane; after a few gruelling missions, the task force had many reports to do. You’ve opted to do them in one of the empty meeting rooms; you liked doing work in these rooms more than facing the concrete wall of your own quarters. At least here, the table was wide and it was fairly quiet; sometimes Ghost will join you as he feels the same. You enjoy his presence because, unlike the rest of the group, he is one of the few people you like spending time with in silence. Today was no different.

The hours go by quickly with the room filled with nothing but paper shuffling and turning pages. You sigh as you place down your pen and give a big stretch, deciding to take a break as you stand and move towards the door. The big man himself also follows along; you don’t question it; you figured he might need a break too.

As you walked away from the room, you decided to go to the bathroom. You passed by the training hall as you overheard the Captain and Laswell talking over some topics for the upcoming mission, but something caught your attention.

"....My wife brought cheesecake; it's in the fridge…."

Your ears perked up to the sound of cake; you haven’t had any dessert recently, and you do like cheesecake. You make a mental note to take a trip to the mess hall after using the bathroom, hoping to have a slice yourself.

As you make your way to the fridge silently, you approach the kitchen and let out a soft sigh of relief when the place is empty. You slowly open the door of the fridge as you poke your head in and search for any sign of cake. You were about to give up when you couldn’t see any, but you jolted slightly when you felt a pat on your shoulder. You quickly turn around, only to be met by Ghost again, with a plate in his hand. As you look at the plate, which has a slice of cheesecake, your eyes blink with hope as you slowly glance back at him. He gives you a nod as he hands you the plate, and you nod back as well with a smile, happy and grateful that he saved you a slice. You take a seat at one of the stools and grab a fork as you eat the cheesecake happily. Ghost leaned against the counter opposite you as he makes himself a cup of coffee. He watched silently as your mood seems to improve. Earlier, he saw how you stopped in your tracks when you overheard the conversation, how your eyelashes fluttered, and how your steps grew lighter. He immediately went to the kitchen when you head to the bathroom and managed to pry one last slice of Soap before he finished them, hoping to save you a piece when you come by later. As you take the first few bites with your eyes closed, you give a hum of approval as your shoulders drop. It’s not like the cheesecake was extremely good, but you can tell from the texture that it was homemade. You miss baking yourself; the last time you did it was with a roommate before you joined the military. You missed those silly moments as you clumsily mixed the ingredients and argued with your friend to stop adding too much sugar into the batter, or the time your friend made fun of you for baking the hardest brownies that can break cement if thrown at them. You also tend to have favouritism towards home-cooked stuff, no matter who made it; you always liked how the food tends to taste just slightly better. Is it because of comfort? Or the memories that flood your mind when you take in the smell? You honestly don't know; maybe it's both. Or maybe you like the thoughts and love people put into the meals when they cook. You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise you were swinging your feet idly on the stool. The stool was slightly taller than the regular one, and your legs barely touched the floor.

Ghost finds the view a bit charming—to see you relax and content over a slice of cake. It's not that he is complaining; he just never really saw you this comfortable before. He observes you silently and takes note of how you like to munch on your right cheek more than the left, making it puffy. He chuckles to himself when you start swinging your legs too. He's glad that he managed to snatch the last piece of cake, and perhaps in the near future, he’ll bring you some cake to share with you.

•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················• a/n: that's all! Let me know what you think!! like a part two or something, have a nice day/night! :>

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Chp.11 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter. 10 Chapter 12.

Hardcase

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Canon character death, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, names of non-canon dead clones, Grief, bottling up emotions to appear strong, Mentions of breakdowns, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DNI

As it turned out, Dogma was correct. 

Hardcase, Fives and Jesse had stolen Umbaran fighters and managed to infiltrate the supply ship that was the source of such a powerful resistance. You had been outside, walking the airbase to check up on previously injured them when they returned. 

Your heart dropped when you realized there were only two ships. Seeing Jesse and Fives step off the ships, but no Hardcase…

No. 

No. No.

No!

Wordlessly, you turned and went back into the medical bay. 

Ignore it. Hardcase is fine. He's fine. 

You refused to accept his death. It didn’t happen. Hardcase was alright. He was just late.

As a doctor, you’ve seen all five stages of grief. You’ve experienced the five stages before. Felt them in your own way.

Denial.

Anger.

Bargaining.

Depression.

And acceptance. 

Logically, you knew this denial was part of the process. Emotionally however? You were going haywire. Hardcase was your friend. You’ve known him the same length of time as the rest of Torrent Company.

You couldn’t think about it. You had work to do. You had injured soldiers to wake and evaluate. You had others to hunt down and check their injuries. You couldn’t collapse into your grief, not yet. 

So you threw your feelings aside and focused.

“What happened?” Kix’s voice sounded concerned as soon as he saw you walk in, “Are you alright?” 

You shook your head. He had to know. Shifting your mindset, to that of a medical professional, you told him, “Kix, I’m sorry.” your hands were on his shoulders, “Hardcase is gone. He didn’t return with Fives and Jesse.” 

The medic’s eyes widened. They were from the same batch. Cadets together, “Hardcase..?”

“Kix, I want you to go. Go to the barracks and get some sleep. Go be with your brothers.” You commanded him gently. You could swallow your mourning long enough to fill in for him. Let him grieve and process. 

With a nod, he stepped back, away from you. His brown eyes roamed the floor, as if trying to find something. 

Shock, most likely. Hardcase was a powerhouse, almost nothing could take him down.

Except fucking Umbara.

“Kix,” You murmured, “Kix, look at me.” Your hands held his face, forcing his gaze into yours, “Leave the medical bay, go to the barracks, and take some time for yourself.” 

He croaked in response, barely holding it together, “The men..”

“I can handle it.” You responded calmly, “Go. Be with your brothers.”

With a nod, Kix left you. His shoulders were shaking with silent sobs just as he walked out the door. 

The clones were brothers. All of them were connected in a way you couldn’t fully understand. It was a deep familial bond that you were sure transcended the damn Force. Even the word for brother in Mando’a seemed so much…deeper than any other word. 

“Vod.” You whispered the word in Mando’a to no one but yourself, It means Brother.

You didn’t feel the tears as you whispered the language. 

It hit you that Hardcase didn’t speak much Mando’a. Did he know these words? Probably. Most clones knew the basics. You could ask him-.

No. You couldn’t.

“Vod’ika Hardcase…” You breathed, heart tightening. 

Dearest brother Hardcase. That's what the clones would call him as they mourned. Dearest brother. 

You sank to the floor, staring ahead as you silently cried. Your palm slapped over your mouth as your emotions hit you in waves. Just when you thought you could breathe, another sob would rock your body. 

Hardcase. Hardcase.

You let yourself cry. It was good for the brain, you knew that. Your medically trained mind kicked in. You were allowed this grief and this pain. Hardcase wasn’t your brother, but he was your friend. 

So you cried. You let your brain release its emotions. At some point you had moved, leaning against the wall between two troopers on medical cots, Rusty and Cobalt, both down with broken ribs and severe blaster burns. Mindlessly, you ran your fingers through their hair. 

You’ve found that even under the effects of sedatives, they could register touch. Sometimes they would also remember words spoken near them as well. 

“I got you guys,” you stared ahead in your grief as you mumbled, “I got all of you. Whether you hear me or not, I got you.”

You found some comfort in taking care of these soldiers. Maybe it was because you were a doctor and you wanted to help. Or maybe with Rex as your lover, they were your brothers in a way.

Either way, you cared so much about them. 

The doors opened some time, possibly an hour, after you calmed down. Tup walked in on you sitting between Nax and Ink. You were aimlessly massaging Nax’s hand when the young trooper saw you. He took one look into your eye and figured it out.

“You know about Hardcase?” He asked, walking over to you and sitting down on your left. 

“Yea.” you mumbled, “I sent Kix to the barracks. To get some rest, so it's just me here.”

He nodded, draping an arm around your shoulder, “Everyone stable?” Clones were affectionate by nature with each other, so you didn’t read into the closeness. You’ve been hugged and held by plenty of Rex’s brothers. He trusted you, and he trusted the troopers, so platonic affection was just that. Platonic, but still appreciated.

“For now,” your answer was quiet, “What’s going on with Fives and Jesse?”

“Court martial,” He responded, tilting his head to rest on yours, “It's not fair. They did the right thing. Krell is just…being cruel.” 

“I’m sure Anakin will do something about it when he returns.” You mumbled, “He’d probably compliment Jesse and Fives, then let them go.” 

Tup chuckled, but it sounded hollow and sad, “Wish Hardcase would have made it back.”

You nodded slowly, continuing to stare ahead at nothing. Carefully, you rested Nax’s hand back on the bed before resting your head on Tup’s shoulder and closing your eyes, “I’m not going to let this happen ever again.” You whispered, making a promise to the 501st, “I promise, Tup, I’m never going to stand back and let a bad General hurt any of you ever again.”

He hummed softly, “I would pay real credits to watch you rip into Krell.”

“You don’t need to pay me. I’ll do it for free.” you snarked, earning a snicker from the soldier. 

“I’m sure General Skywalker would too, once he knows about all of this.” He responded, moving his head to lean against the wall, “Who do you think would win in a duel? Krell or General-.”

The doors to the med bay opened again. You opened your eyes when you heard the steps come to a stop in front of you. Tup stiffened and sat up straighter. 

Rex was standing above the two of you, His eyes were a storm of grief, agony and frustration. You’ve never seen such a look on your lover.

You raised a hand to him, “Take a break and grieve with us.” You rasped.

He took your hand but remained standing, “Krell has ordered the execution of Jesse and Fives.”

“What!?” Tup scrambled to his feet, “Why!?”

Your eyes widened and you shot to your feet. It felt like someone dumped ice water over your head and your stomach dropped. Desperation hit you like a speeder. Jesse and Fives can’t be executed! They did nothing wrong!

“He has asked me to put a firing squad together.” Rex continued to speak, “Dogma is going to oversee the execution.”

“No, I refuse.” The younger trooper snapped, “I won’t kill my own brothers!” 

“None of us have a choice.” The clone captain sighed.

“Rex,” Your voice cracked, “Is there really no other way?”

“I’m not forcing anyone to execute,” He responded, “The men will have the freedom to choose. I was just commanded to put the squad together.”

Tup looked at his captain, eyes going wide before he shook his head, “I’ll be on the squad.” His voice trembled, “But I won’t shoot.” 

“I can’t force you too.” The clone captain responded. He looked over at you, “I want you to remain here.” 

“Respectfully decline that order, captain.” You answered him, “They’re my friends.”

Rex’s expression was unreadable. Was he proud you wouldn’t look away? Worried you might break down? Or was he angry you declined to follow his orders?

Could be all three.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, the 501st captain didn’t argue, “Go to the back of the tower. Speak with Dogma about placement.” He mumbled to Tup before turning to leave. 

“Yes, Captain.” the other trooper responded with a salute. The both of you shared a look before you followed him to the back of the tower. 

To your horror, Kix was among those selected for the execution.

Rex chose a medic for an execution!?

Was this a particular act of cruelty? Or did Krell specifically order him to pick the only other medical professional on the 501st?

With Krell not present and Rex going to get Fives and Jesse, your ire was directed at Dogma, “Is this some kind of joke!?” You snapped at him, “How are you not sick of the taste of Krell’s boots?!”

You must’ve startled him, but he whirled to look at you, almost seeming scared. To his credit, he did manage to recover quickly and retort, “General Krell has given an order to execute traitors. We are soldiers and we follow orders that will benefit the republic!

“Make your own fucking decisions before your lips need to be surgically removed from Krell’s ass!” 

Hardcase would be proud of you for that one. You thought to yourself.

Kix stepped out of the firing line and approached, getting between the two of you, “Doctor, stand down. Now!” 

Dogma kept a steady glare on you, “We are made to be soldiers. Good soldiers follow orders, something you will never understand.”

Good soldiers follow orders.

Why did that phrase send a shiver up your spine? You swallowed and took a step back, folding under Dogma’s critical gaze, “You all are more than just soldiers.” You responded, “But you're right. I will never understand. But I’m still staying.”

He seemed to accept his petty victory. Dogma was vindictive, something you learned a little too late, “Line up the prisoners!” he called out, and Kix returned to his place in line. 

You remained off to the side, eyes on Fives and Jesse. The ARC trooper had his head held high, as if proud to be in such a position. Even facing down death, he was courageous. 

Rex and Appo had the two prisoners stand in place before stepping away. The former found his place beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

Dogma stepped forward, “Do the prisoners request to be blindfolded?” His question was met with defiant silence, “I’ll take that as a no.” 

“I hope you can live with yourself, Dogma.” Fives spat. 

You knew in your heart that Hardcase would have said a lot more swears. Maybe even try and swing at Dogma for this display of coldness. 

The soldier overseeing the execution didn’t react to the ARC trooper's words, “Ready weapons!” he called. Just as he gave the command, the soldiers in line prepared their rifles. 

Jesse hung his head and mumbled, “I never thought we’d go out this way…”

“Aim!”

Before Dogma could give the command, Fives interrupted, “Wait! This is wrong and we all know it!” He looked over the line of his brothers, desperate to reach them, “The General is making a mistake and he needs to be called on it! No clone should have to go out this way!” 

You noticed Kix made eye contact with Tup. the both of them shifted slightly, body language reading as ‘unsure’. Others in the firing squad did so as well.

The ARC trooper continued, “We are loyal soldiers, we follow orders but we are not a bunch of unthinking droids! We are men! we must be trusted to make the right decisions especially when the orders we are given are wrong!”

You couldn’t help but smile softly with unshed tears in your eyes.

Hardcase would be so proud…

“Fire!”

The blaster shots rang out, startling you. But you refused to look away. Your eyes took in the reality of the situation. 

Jesse and Fives, still alive, stood still, looking at their brothers. Every single blaster shot missed, littering the tower with smoking holes. Yet, none of them went anywhere near the two troopers. The firing squad dropped their rifles, the weapons clattering to the ground in unison. 

Dogma gasped beside you, “Wait what!?” He hurried in front of the line.

“They’re doing the right thing, Dogma.” Rex stepped beside the confused and frazzled trooper, “Because if this,” The 501st captain motioned to the two prisoners as he spoke, “is how soldiers are rewarded for heroic actions then one day every man in this battalion may face a similar fate.” 

You wiped your tears with your sleeve, and Kix looked at you with a chuckle. 

Bastard, stop laughing at me. You couldn’t hold back your own relieved giggle. Apparently you were worried for nothing. 

“Take off their binders!” Rex commanded, and Appo followed his orders loyally. 

Dogma argued frantically, “No! We have orders! We have to go through with this!” 

“Good luck finding anyone to do it,” Your lover damn nearly growled as he approached Jesse and Fives.

You turned away, intending to go back to the medical bay. The arguing of Rex and Dogma was tuned out as Kix and Tup appeared at your sides.

“You ok?” the medic asked you, looking relieved himself. His hands were shaking ever so slightly.

“You stressed me out!” Your tone wasn’t harsh, but it was clear the entire situation got to you, “Next time, give a doctor a warning before you deliberately miss a shot!” In a friendly manner, you grabbed his ear and tugged slightly, “I am going to age as fast as all of you because of this battalion!”

Tup laughed beside you as you manhandled your medic comrade. Of course you didn’t mean anything by your words, and they knew that. Still, you let him go, “Hardcase would have done the same as you, I think.” 

Kix nodded, giving you a sad smile, “He’d probably have gone after Krell himself.”

“I’d have loved to see that,” Tup chimed in, clear in his own state of mourning still.

You looked at the two of them before sighing and grabbing the medic in a hug. At first he was startled, but you felt his arms wrap around your waist soon enough. Wordlessly, you reached and tugged Tup’s hand, pulling him in as well.

Clones are affectionate to their brothers. You always kept such a thing in mind, I’m no clone, but I hope they appreciate it. 

The two melted into the warmth, and it was the younger trooper who mumbled, “Thanks Doc.”

“I’m here for you. I’m here for everyone.” You reassured him kindly. Your grief could wait. It had to, just for them.

Sadly, the group hug was broken up by Kix’s comm buzzing. Once he answered, Rex’s words came through, “Umbarans have stolen clone gear. Krell has ordered we take them out.” 

“So the Umbarans think they can trick us, huh?” Tup put a hand on his hip, “I say we go after them. Care to join us, doc?”

Your nod was uncertain. Not because you didn’t want to join the men and help, but because you couldn’t take the unease you’ve felt over Rex’s words. 

You had the worst feeling about this.

[sirenalpha]

I'm not gonna get into it on the actual post because I don't want to start shit after how Aang posts have gone down and it's not like I saw it cuz it was tagged wrong or something

but it is wild to see someone say Azula's downfall was well written in atla and then also say what Zuko should have done and implying he was morally obligated to do so was not fight her and instead offer her love and support so he's in the wrong for accepting the agni kai challenge and fighting her

this blatantly ignores that Azula has manipulated and abused Zuko since childhood even though they also admit that Azula tried to kill him twice recently as a defense of Zuko's actions which is definitely some cognitive dissonance, but it's another instance I've seen of someone acting as if Zuko is incorrect or blinded by his father or otherwise mistaken when he says things like 'Azula always lies' despite the show demonstrating that actually Zuko is seeing her extremely clearly as she can even successfully manipulate him using the truth

Zuko does not owe Azula love and support just because they are blood relatives anymore than he owes Ozai especially not any time before the war has ended and she is still a threat to his personal safety and also to his goal of achieving peace seeing as she tried to kill Zuko twice leading up to the finale and she also came up with the plan to raze the Earth Kingdom

Giving her a hug isn't gonna fix that situation exactly the same as it wouldn't with Aang when it comes to Ozai

except this person thought Aang v Ozai was ultimately a triumph of pacifism over imperialism whereas the love and support vs fear and isolation of Zuko vs Azula is only pure tragedy not a victory of one ideology over another and I really have to wonder how this person came to that conclusion

Aang v Ozai is also a man to man battle same as Zuko v Azula and Katara v Azula which is not exactly pacifism

Aang doesn't kill Ozai in the end, and neither does Zuko or Katara kill Azula (instead she nearly kills Zuko) so again no different on the pacifism front

The major differences between these battles are that Zuko and Katara earned their abilities to defeat Azula whereas Aang relies on two deus ex machina and Zuko and Katara leave Azula upset but a pretty physically healthy state whereas Aang spiritually mutilates Ozai by removing his bending

in order for this interpretation to work that Aang v Ozai is a triumph of one ideology over another and Zuko v Azula is not, you have to ignore the massive narrative flaws in the Aang and Ozai fight that do not exist in the Zuko v Azula fight

There is a reason people still argue about whether or not Aang should have killed Ozai but even this person who argues Zuko did the wrong thing by Azula doesn't actually disagree with the text of the show, they still seem to want this agni kai to have happened exactly as it did where Zuko did show that love and support worked better than fear and isolation as he had Katara to tag in to finish the fight as well as other concepts like continuing to improve and learn after failure which eventually gave Zuko stability working better than genius perfectionism which caused Azula to spiral

another major facet this person relied on to argue for this position that Zuko was wrong to accept the agni kai was that Zuko could not see beyond the narrow worldview his father imposed on him through the golden child/scape goat dynamic he put upon Azula and Zuko

but the whole point of the show and having Zuko confront his father and leave to join the Avatar was to show exactly that, Zuko is the one character whose horizons broaden the most over the course of the show and only because Iroh's happens pre-series, it is insane to argue that Zuko cannot see past the abuse he suffered or outside the Fire Nation worldview after he has left the Fire Nation for the gaang

This person also claims that Zuko is so single minded about his goals that he even forgets empathy for others despite in season one somehow managing not to burn off Zhao's face in an agni kai and he even tries to rescue him from the ocean spirit despite fighting him literally the moment before so what character are you talking about because it's not Zuko

and then from this, they claim he cannot understand the tragedy of having to fight his own sister

this part is obviously up to more reader interpretation but you can take Zuko suggesting to Iroh in s2 that he forgive Azula is actually stemming from his genuine desire to not have to fight Azula given how quickly and vehemently Iroh shoots this down and that he does express genuine concern for Azula's fall in the southern raiders before she gets herself to the cliffside

I personally would say between the two of them, Zuko is more aware of the tragedy and genuinely sad about it, he is not portrayed as happy or gleeful when it's over whereas Azula has only been expecting this fight so she can secure her position on the thrown because she's second born and female and outright gloats after she's shot him with lightning

I see Zuko as resigned to this fight and trying to keep Katara safely out of it when he notices that Azula is slipping and takes the agni kai

what is not reader interpretation is to claim Zuko is being unfair and cruel to Azula to accept her agni kai challenge, Azula has always been the aggressor in their relationship and Zuko always the loser until the southern raiders where they have drawn even with each other, and as it has already been pointed out, Azula has recently tried to kill him twice!!

where is Azula's moral obligation to not try to mortally wound or manipulate her older brother? how is she not cruel and unfair for treating him this way and following in the footsteps of their father?

then there's an insane bit where they claim Zuko and Katara have a more simplistic view of morality than Aang who lost his shit on Katara in southern raiders who in the end didn't forgive Yon Rha and also didn't kill him and Zuko was there supporting her for the whole thing for her emotional benefit and closure regarding her mother like he had in his confrontation against Ozai whom he also didn't kill and Aang wasn't involved, Katara even tells him he was wrong

this part is just objectively untrue, Aang has the far more simplistic view on morality 

this person also goes on to a lot of reader interpretation for Azula's motives for bringing Zuko back to the Fire Nation, and I do agree I think that on some level Azula does care for Zuko, where I don't agree is that if the result is still harm for Zuko which is what returning to the Fire Nation was for him as it puts him back under the thumb of their abuser, it's still ultiamtely not good or kind to Zuko

Azula's actions are not made better by presuming she had good intentions born out of care for Zuko

The thing that really got me though was this quote:

"he allows himself to stoop to her level, and in fact only redeems himself through his sacrifice for katara"

again, Azula is the aggressor in their relationship and the one who issues the challenge in this instance

Zuko does not stoop to her level trying to stop her via agni kai because a hug is not gonna work, and it is arguably noble of him to try to protect Katara by accepting the challenge and trying to remove her as a target

But it doesn't work because Azula breaks the agni kai by attacking Katara who is a bystander and not a combatant which is never a level Zuko stoops to, it's a rat move Azula takes when she's put on her back foot and realizes she can't win a fair fight and can't goad Zuko into an emotional outburst

But the worst part is reframing Zuko's sacrifice as redemptive in terms of his relationship to Azula or as if he has done something wrong in accepting the agni kai or while fighting it

He hasn't, the poster argues that Zuko betrayed Azula in leaving the Fire Nation which I think you can argue for, but I do not believe that the show has Azula react as if she has been harmed by this action when she is shown as far more offended by Mai and Ty Lee's betrayal and again seems gleeful to be able to attack Zuko in the boiling rock, southern raiders, and finale and therefore could reasonably be interpreted to have expected this

His redemption isn't towards Azula or anything she represents like Fire Nation imperialism, Ozai's abuse, perfectionism 

It's a heroic sacrifice for Katara as a person he harmed personally in the s2 finale and as a victim of the Fire Nation's war by the Fire Nation's prince 

It's an utter and blatant misread of the show to demonize Zuko to uplift Azula and replace Katara as a victim of Fire Nation imperialism which Azula is straightforwardly not and removes those themes from the Zuko v Azula fight which this person praised in the more flawed Aang v Ozai fight

I am with and agree with anyone claiming Azula is a victim of abuse, she is, it is the direct cause of her breakdown

but it's straight up cognitive dissonance to act as if Zuko has done something grossly wrong in terms of ending the cycle of violence by participating in the agni kai with Azula but Aang v Ozai is a narrative master stroke for pacifism and ending violence when they both use the exact same amount of violence to achieve their ends: man to man combat, and Aang actually delivers the worse punishment to Ozai

and you strip away half of Azula's character if you ignore the real and blatant harm she caused Zuko and the rest of the gaang and try to pretend they are all equally victims of the same man because they are not

[tarithenurse]

A suitable arrangement

Fandom: MCU AU Pairing/starring: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader Word count: 1038 Content: Incorrect terminology of the 18th century. A/N: Uhm.....not sure what this is. I wanted to write smut but instead I’ve started a new series? Help? Let me know if it’s okay, please. Send ASK if you want a tag and please reblog.

1.

You just need a moment from the noise and the crowd so you’re wandering the halls of the estate of Lord Stark, admiring the art and decor while the droning of the party continues far enough away that you can ignore it. In fact, you’ve become so lost in your solitude, that you don’t even hear the approaching footsteps but rather stare at the stormy seas of a painting, mesmerized.

Suddenly, there’s a light touch on your shoulder and you startle, dropping your fan on the floor.

“My apologies,” the smooth timbre of Lord Laufeyson soothes your frazzled nerves, “didn’t intend to scare you.”

Bending, he picks up the fan and holds it for you to take only when you reach for it, he retracts it with a devious smile.

“Manners, my young lady. I just need to hear a simple phrase,” he demands.

You hate this. Not manners or politeness but speaking up. Only when you are alone can you muster enough sound to be heard...perhaps exactly because no one is there to hear you, tell you that a woman’s role is to tend for others and be quiet. Your father has always made sure to let you know your place and while he’s ailing and trying to find suitors, you cannot hold the interest of any potential candidates because you “clam up like an oyster” every time a gentleman is over for tea.

It’s no better at these balls you attend with your cousins. And here you also have to suffer being a wall flower too, soon too old to attend the affairs. Surely, you’ll end up a spinster!

Now you’re here though, with the venerable lord Loki Laufeyson tormenting you.

For half a heartbeat you consider letting him keep the fan but you know you’d be in trouble if you returned home without it so swallowing hard, you nod, courtesy and eek out a tiny “thank you, my lord”.

“So demure,” he smiles, lowering the hand with the fan somewhat, “not at all like the lark I heard when I passed by your window a fortnight ago.”

You blink at him sheepishly as the words settle in your mind. Then suddenly understanding dawns, sharp and blinding: two night ago, father had been away on business and you had sung your heart out as you’re want to do when home alone...but the weather had been agreeable and so the windows must have been open!

Feeling heat rise to your face, you turn on the heel and rush back to the party where you find your cousin Elena, begging her to let you retire for the evening. She’s loath to leave her friends and suitors, but you must have seemed quite out of it because she accepts.

---

You hear the knocking on the door before the servant, allowing you to step back from the repos overlooking the foyer. Still you can’t help but sneak a peek around the corner as the maid opens the door and courtesies. You glimpse a dark green coat and raven locks before you hastily withdraw, knowing all too well who has come: Lord Loki Laufeyson!

“My apologies for calling upon uninvited,” he smoothly explains, “I merely wish to return a lost item...I believe I saw miss [Y/N Y/L/N] with this at the debutante.”

“Oh goodness gracious, you’re quite right, sir!” the maid, Maude agrees.

From the awkward silence that follows, you deduce that she’s holding out her hand for it but he’s not giving it back. Just leave, your inner hermit groans.

“I would be quite honoured if I may return it personally,” Laufeyson more demands than asks.

“Right this way then,” Maude admits, presumably showing him in. “I shall alert the mister [Y/L/N] and the misses.”

Tiptoeing back to your room, you look to the windows for an escape but quite quickly dismiss the notion. Instead, you hurry to your desk where your art supplies are scattered and pretend to have been busy with that instead of eavesdropping.

A moment later, Maude knocks on the door, enters and announces that your presence is requested. Not a word on who’s calling on you.

Following her, you are lead to the sitting room where your father is already standing conversing with Laufeyson as if they’ve known each other for years.

“Ah,” father beams, ushering you closer, “here she is. My delight of a daughter.”

You know that tone of voice, it’s the one he uses when a rare suitor has come calling. But Lord Laufeyson is no suitor. Still, you courtesy wordlessly at a safe distance.

Getting up from his place on the settee, Laufeyson approaches, bows and grabs your hand to plant a feather-light kiss on your knuckle. “A pleasure to see you again,” he purrs.

Your father gawks at that. “You’re introduced?”

Straightening up, Laufeyson’s fingers only slowly let go of yours. “In a manner. I may have spooked the young lady...an error I plan to remedy by, among other, returning this to her.”

From his pocket, he pulls your fan and offers it to you. Hesitantly, you grasp it, half expecting him to whip it out of your hand but he doesn’t and you tug the accessory to your chest where your heart is beating wildly.

Much can be said of your father, but he is a businessman and he is attentive of details and the spoken word. Now he has latched on to a detail that you only realize too late: “Among other?”

Loki’s green eyes gleam in the afternoon light as he looks between you and father. “Perhaps I may have the honour of calling upon the young lady properly? Say...two days from now?”

Father could have fallen from the moon and it wouldn’t have been quite as unexpected as this. Lord Laufeyson is, quite frankly, the most esteemed bachelor and heir to a vast estate with interests. Your father, while successful in his own right, has but a townhouse and his business. Widowed at your birth, he has no apparent heir to the company which employs naught but a dozen men.

In other words: Having Loki Laufeyson show interest in you is, for your father, a match made in Heaven. For you? Well...that’s hardly of import.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: The aftermath of injury leads to a desire for comfort.

Warning: Mentions of injury, hospitals, probably incorrect info on concussions, mentions of alleged abuse (like for a second but not in great detail), fluff. P.S: Idc if reader is coming off a little childish in the beginning, i said it before and i’ll say it again reader is honestly almost completely based off of me and something about me is that i hate hospitals. I’m a chronically ill girlie and i still despise them, every time ive had to go ive complained—it’s who i am as a person.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn

Word count: about 2k

Rest

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

“So where to next?” I ask as I buckle my seat, allowing my head to rest finally. I am more than happy to leave behind this apple-loving, pagan-worshiping town.

“‘Bringin’ you to a hospital” Dean answers, starting the car. I jolted up, immediately regretting the action as the pain in my head spiked and my vision wobbled. “Nooo. No. No hospital” I plead, not caring if I sounded pathetic, “I hate hospitals!”

“I wasn’t asking if you wanted to go, sweetheart” he quips. “No, please! I’m totally fine, sure I'm a little beat up but nothing a bandaid and sleep can’t fix.”

“You’re not winnin’ this one” he replies with a little half shrug. I turned to Sam, who already had the map out, and pulled open. “Sam, help me.”

“Sorry Y/N, Deans right.”

Dean sighs dramatically, “I love bein’ right.”

“Shut up” Sam half laughs, “Seriously though Y/N, you probably have a concussion. You should get checked out for a definitive answer.”

“Okay, well, Dean he was hit over the head with a gun too.” I try and deflect. Sam turns his head to face me giving me a “really?” look, “He’s also walking and talking fine, and doesn't look like he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.” I thought I was talking and walking just fine despite feeling like everything was spinning and I was doing a wonderful job of ignoring the ringing in my ears.

I open my mouth to make another retort but I don’t get a single sound out before Dean cuts me off, “If you try any of your escapes I'm callin’ your brother.” That shuts me up, I love my brother but he's very protective and will yell at me if it means being safe. I lean back against the soft seats of the car, pouting, I hate hospitals. I catch Dean's eyes staring at my lips in the rearview mirror, “You can pout as much as you want to, ‘still going.”

I know I'm acting like a child but hospitals are the worst, sure the doctors can be nice but there's so much always going on that it's just too overwhelming and they poke and prod at you. And especially as a hunter, you must make such elaborate lies just to be seen.

The dark-haired doctor removes the small yet extremely bright light from my eyes, “You have a minor concussion” she concluded after the many tests she ran, “there's not much we can prescribe you. But you need a lot of rest and to relax, no drinking or crazy activities for at least a week. You can take Advil in 24 hours if the pain is too much.” If the boys were in this curtained-off room they would most certainly say ‘I told you so.’

She suddenly looks a little nervous, staring back at the curtain before looking at me again, speaking quietly, “This is a safe environment, if those boys are hurting you I can help you.” Her eyes slipped to my wrist, of course she saw the bruises and made the connection to restraints. And so much of my appearance from the now cleaned and bandaged wound on my head to my dirt-stained clothes would lead her to that thought.

I tug down my sleeves, trying to cover them, “No! No, they didn't do anything, they would never do that to me, seriously” I insist, eyes wide. She doesn't seem so convinced, “Look” I sigh, “The person who did this is being charged, alright the cops know about all this. The boys I came with did not do this.” It was mostly a lie, of course, but the point was to clear their names, that part was true. She nods, “I’ll be back with your discharge papers.”

She pulls back the curtains, and the second she's out of sight I sigh. I know it's her job but in this case it wasn't helpful, I didn't want any further fights or complications to go on today.

….

I hold a hand up, “I don't want to hear it. Yes, you were right.” Sam’s lips curve up into a smile, “Hey I said I don't wanna hear it” I cut them both off before they could say anything. Dean swings his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side, “Like I said, ‘love bein’ right.”

It was still early afternoon when we pulled up to the motel. It was just your regular-looking motel, with two floors of rooms to choose from with dingy lighting but I could not be more happy. We all exited the car rather quickly, it had been a long couple of days. I grab my bag meeting the boys by the trunk, Dean distributing our duffle bags. But when he gets to mine he doesn't hand it over, just closes the trunk, “I can carry my own bag, you know.”

He shrugs, “I know.” God, he was a sweetie pie. I study him as he walks just a few steps ahead of me, after everything that transpired I don't think I want to be alone. I wasn't scared per se, I just wanted comfort and I didn't have any stuffed animals packed. I didn't want to be a burden to him, he was probably tired and would want a bed to himself. But maybe I could just hang in their room for a long while.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, stopping to look back at me. Of course, he could practically sense it. He places our bags on the concrete, getting close enough that I could easily breathe him in. He lifts his hands to cup my face gently, he’s been doing that a lot lately. “‘Your head hurtin’?” He was looking down at me so carefully, his green eyes softening as he watched me. I have to remind myself to respond even as my thoughts extinguish each time his thumbs caress my cheeks, careful to pass over the bruises there, “Well yes but that's not…” I don't finish my sentence not having a single idea of what I should say to him. He looks down at me expectantly, just waiting. I wanted to hug him, keep my head buried in his chest even as my head pounded like a bass playing through an amp, but I can’t exactly say that.

I sigh, “Is it okay if…” I swallow, speaking quietly, “Can I stay with you?”

His eyes widened a fraction and if I wasn't looking right up at him I would have missed it entirely. It's not like this was anything new for us, we've cuddled before while watching a movie or something and even slept in the same bed if needed for a hunt. But to ask like this somehow felt so different, so much more personal. “Of course” he answers simply, eyebrows scrunched together as if he was insulted that I would be so hesitant to ask. He lets go of my face, and I immediately miss the steadiness of it all, he takes a single step back but not before grabbing hold of my hand and picking up our duffles to hold in his free hand.

We catch up to Sam in the small lobby, two keys in his hand instead of the usual three. Was it a coincidence that they just didn't have a room I could use or did he just know? I guess it was possible he saw us in the parking lot and figured out what I would want, am I that easy to read?

….

The room was quite nice, the walls were grey with some white detailing. And the beds were big, most likely a queen, with the crisp white blankets and a tall cushioned headboard. Sam walks in first, choosing the bed on the far side of the room, which was predictable at best seeing as Dean preferred being closer to the door out of a sense of protectiveness.

Dean places his duffle on the bed, handing me mine, “You can take a shower first” he says, telling me more than offering. I swing off my messenger bag, placing it on the bed before looking between both boys, “Are you sure?” I was already intruding in their room and his bed I didn't want to take over the bathroom too. They both nod their heads, I mumble thanks before heading there.

I didn’t care to study the bathroom, just wanting to be under the hot water and wash away the dirt and feelings of the day. I turn the shower on, lifting my shirt over my head before having to stop with it halfway off of me to stop the room from spinning. I close my eyes forcing myself to relax and not sway as I stripped down to nothing.

Being naked only made my bruises look worse. My wrists were rubbed raw, painful red marks adorning each one, and my cheeks had dark bruises on them from being punched twice over the span of a couple of days. Never mind the gash on the corner of my forehead, which I’d have to bandage again after the shower, and the subtle black and blues on my side likely from being thrown to the ground.

I swallow hard, I don’t want to think of any of this anymore. I step into the rather small shower, the hot water pouring over my head and down my body taking the tension with it as it went down the drain.

I step out of the steamy bathroom feeling infinitely times better despite the spinning room and hurting head. My hair was wet and clean and felt lighter now that it was no longer dusted with dirt, and I was in comfortable pajamas.

Yes, it wasn’t nighttime yet or time to sleep but that doesn't mean a girl can’t wear comfortable clothes. It was nice to be in pajamas, wearing some white plaid pants and a loose tee with a cute little embroidered bear in the corner and of course an oversized sweater because somehow I was always cold. It was a wonderful yet small feat.

Dean’s sitting up in bed, both boys watching some football game on the small TV. I slump into the bed carefully lying my head down as I get underneath the covers. Dean seemed to study me for a moment, smiling softly, he was probably trying to assess how I felt. Whatever he was looking for he seemed to find, nodding to himself before getting up and heading to the bathroom with a change of clothes. A moment later the shower turns on.

I sink into the bed further, turning away from the TV, I didn’t care enough for sports to want to watch it anyway. The weight of the past few days catch up to me quickly, my eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

….

The bed beside me suddenly sinks down, and my eyes flutter open being met with Dean’s familiar frame, “Sorry sweetheart didn’t mean to wake you.” I shake my head, I must have been out for just a couple of minutes, “It’s okay” I mumble still on the outskirts of sleep. He gets under the covers, his black shirt accentuating the muscles in his arms as he moves.

Once he situates himself he holds his arms open to me, silently asking if I wanted to get closer. He always seemed to know what I wanted or what I felt, sometimes I feared he knew me too well. I shift closer to him and he meets me halfway pushing me the rest of the way into him.

He practically places my head on his chest, close to his shoulder, his arm closes in on me holding me impossibly closer to him, his hand resting on my waist. His body warmth immediately reaches me, and in his embrace, any fears or anxieties I had the last few days seemed to dissipate. I place a hand on his chest feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The hand on my waist begins to move slightly, his thumb rubbing slow circles into my side, my heart seems to flutter and I fear I won't be able to move on from this. It is moments like these that I find it hard to keep my feelings to myself, my love seems to bustle in my veins threatening to spill out. And with everything I have in me, I must bottle them back in, even as he places a soft kiss on my forehead and I think my heart just took off flying.

I melt into him, neither of us saying anything–not that we needed to. I can feel his rings on my side and the comforting weight of his hand there, the warmth he let off and his scent of something like pine or maybe it was wood, and just for a moment under the fog of a mild concussion, I imagine a forever like this. Being able to fall asleep each night to his hold and wake with him still there right beside me.

[usopps-devotee]

Wips

Death by chocolate

Summary: testing sanjis patients leads to a very "sweet" punishment.

Tags: food play, mean dom sanji, no smut yet, unchecked for grammar and spelling, potentially incorrect French translation (I don't speak french)

You should have known better than to test the cook, thoughts of "How bad can it be?" or "What's the worst that could happen?" landed you a spot at the dining table in front of the world's favorite and most disgusting dessert, chocolate. He ignored every last sorry and plea of mercy, you've really pushed Sanji's buttons this time and he's making sure you're not going to do something like this again. It starts out with a simple layer of cake, decadent and fluffy maybe if you focused on the texture and not the flavor you could survive what you presume to be the first half of your torture.

Sanji cuts a small piece of the bottom layer holding it out for you to taste, hesitant doesn't begin to describe the churn in your stomach ot the red hot anxiety flashing though your veins. He's a patient man, you know the cook could sit at the table all day fork in hand if need be. You lean In close, eyes closed before your jaw is roughly grabbed and the cake is almost melting on your tongue.

"Chew and swallow it, I hope you're done playing dumb with me."

His tight grip on yout face loosened but he didn't let go, instead preparing another bite. This one was bigger than the first, gathering from the bottom 2 layers and the frosting between the two, you're thankful he isn't making you eat the top layer yet, the frosting was always your least favorite part.

Feeling you trying to shy away he tightens his grip, forcing your jaw open and placing the cake in your mouth before you have time to react or pull away. Cringing at the taste and texture of the desert he almost feels bad, almost, he has to remember your behavior today.

As much as your cook adored you and loved the fact that you clung to him like his shadow, distracting him from his responsibilities is one thing he doesn't tolerate. He feels the more you distracted him the longer it takes him to finish his given task, today was proof. Your pretty voice constantly whining his name, desperate for his attetion. Feeling over his body but just enough for your touch to still be deemed 'innocent'. Lewd comments both behind closed doors and in front of the crew, on top of having the audacity to continue when the cook asked you nicely to stop.

Your behavior immediately changed when you saw him gathering the ingredients to chocolate cake. Which is what landed you a spot here sitting at the kitchen table. Swallowing the thick peice of cake and frosting, you already see the next bite prepared. It's more frosting than cake it the top, and that's what he decided to tease tou with, holding it out just inches away from your lips. Sanji looks you in the eyes as you silently plead for him to at least slow down your rate of consumption. Sighing, he takes the bite himself, giving you less chocolate to worry about.

The melodic hum that left Sanji would be reserved in your memory for only your wettest of dreams, had it not been for your libido getting you in this spot in the first place, you would have pounced on his cock right then and there. Instead, you watch as he takes another bite for himself, then steps away from the table. You see him grab a bottle of port wine and one glass presumably for the both of you to share. Pouring the first glass for you, he watched as downed the sweet red without much thought or consideration other than hopes to remove the chocolate taste from your mouth.

"Mon doux ange, où sont tes manières ? Je te pardonne pour cette fois, mais apprends à savourer tes récompenses, ma chérie."

He chuckled as he poured another glass, this time taking a sip while it was still in his hands.

Jealousy

Summary: You don't take kindly to others trying to take what is rightfully yours, usopp gets a reminder of this in the bathroom of a bar.

Tags: Possessive reader, sub usopp, public sex, no smut yet, unchecked for grammar and spelling

Usopp doesn't know how he got in this situation, one thing he does know is he can't get out. He's been flustered by your touch for the better half of an hour while the crew and locals party at the bar you currently reside in. The feeling of your hands gliding over his lower body; his thighs, his ass but most importantly his cock, has him trying to focus on anything other than your caress.

It was rare that Usopp was flirted with by someone other than yourself, the both of you liked to keep it that way. So when persistence in human form wanted to cling to him you didn't take to it very lightly. Grabbing him by the fabric of his overalls you dragged him into your lap where he currently sat. He currently held no qualms against the current placement. If anything Usopp was quite excited by the possessive thrill and being sure that you would never leave, along with the reward of your touch.

"Bathroom" He couldn't tell if the word fell from your lips as more of a purr or a growl but what he did know is you plan to rip him apart from the seams and he's completely down for it. His legs are wobbly from your teases alone as he walked like a baby dear for the first time, with you right behind him hand around the small of his waist.

Let's go to bed

Summary: The best way to get what you want from law is always to put in a show.

Tags: fluff, mention/use of alcohol no smut yet, unchecked for grammar and spelling

If you were honest you really don't have a clue how you ended up in this bar drunk off your ass. Maybe the back and forth playful bickering between you and Penguin got to you, maybe you were too tired of hearing Bepo complain about any climate not cold enough to freeze your nipples off. But you kept ignoring the voice in your head telling you its because of the lack of attention from law. You and your captain had an interesting relationship, closer than anyone else on the ship but not close enough for either of your liking. That thought drive you insane, the space between the two was the same space that allowed you to take almost any drink offered to you.

That's what got you in this mess now, dancing on the table tops and counters, causing you to be the center of attention. You wouldn't have it any other way. As you think, to take another offered drink, you lock eyes with your captain, who looks more intrigued than pissed off. This being so out of the blue, a part of you figured he'd be fuming. The look on his face tells you that he knows this little display of yours, if all for him, all because of him. Maybe you could give him one last hint and one more show. Making a b-line over to the musicians with a song request, he could see the grin in your face and knew your plans now edged toward devious.

[ancientsweek]

Ancients Week 2024 (!!!)

Welcome to Ancients Week 2024! This is a KOTLC fan-week dedicated to Ancient elves — because the concept of elves old enough to remember the very distant past is deeply fascinating, and because I love the Ancients. This event will be running from July 7th to July 14th 2024 (so a week and an extra day, but we'll call it a week for simplicity's sake). This is the first time I'm running this event (and, for that matter, any fandom event), so please be kind if I mess up somewhere. I'll try not to :)

Rules

DO NOT USE AI. NONE WHATSOEVER. I'm being serious. (although I'm pretty sure anyone won't, it doesn't hurt to state it outright)

No negativity on others' posts! We're all here to have fun.

And on that note, have fun!!!

PROMPTS!!

Questions I Anticipate Getting

What can I make?

Anything! Fanfic, fanart, headcanons, meta, memes, incorrect quotes, dashboard simulators (those fake dashboard things), whatever — nothing is out of bounds!

Whom/what can I make something about?

Ancients! You can make any kind of fan piece about any and all Ancients, including implied/textual-ghost Ancients (like Bronte's mother, or Fintan's dead friends, who would have been Ancient had they survived into the modern day), characters you headcanon as Ancient, Ancient OCs, and even younger characters written as Ancients, so long as your piece involves an Ancient or is Ancients-centric somehow. So basically, go wild and have fun!

When will prompts be up?

If I stay on schedule, prompts should be up on (or in the week of, depending on what's going on) May 1st 2024. In the meantime, I'd love it if you could send prompt suggestions to this blog! I can only put seven prompts up but, I'd love to hear your ideas!

Do I have to complete every prompt or post every day?

No, you do not have to complete every prompt, or post every day! Feel free to post late, skip days, ignore the prompts, combine the prompts and so forth — do only as much as you want to. Remember, Ancients Week is a fun little thing and also a state of mind not bound by petty things like dates. (And I'd genuinely be delighted if I saw new ideas I hadn't considered and new posts in the tag even months later.)

How do I tag my works?

I will be tracking the #ancients week 2024 tag, so please tag your fanworks with that! You can also tag @ancientsweek in your post. All the posts I find will be reblogged to this blog.

Can I post my works elsewhere?

(Not sure if people think about it but I always wonder about it if I'm participating in an event so, here you go.)

Yes! If you would like to cross-post your fanworks onto another site (like AO3, for example), go for it — after all, it's your work, and I can't (and don't want to) dictate where and how you publish it.

Where can I find announcements/reminders/important stuff?

Announcements, reminders, prompt lists, and all other things in the vein of housekeeping will be tagged #proclamations and asides (like this post). You can search for this tag on this blog.

Tag list under cut (I'm extremely sorry if I've forgotten someone)

@drama-llamaaa @fintan-pyren @swans-chirping-in-the-distance @chronically-ill-psionipath @kale-of-the-forbidden-cities @oroshka @ch3shireacat @crescentpaws @autistic-daydreamer @periwinkle-the-11th @lezabeththetheodoraimposter @i-died-dead @heliophilia63194 @mango-cheese67 @chaotic-starlight24 @jkriordanverse @mmeemy @myfairkatiecat @strange-cat (can't seem to be able to properly tag you sorry)

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Maniac | König x M!Reader | Part II

Note: Just to clarify, my boii isn’t wearing his helmet in this story, just his good ol’ rag of a shirt on his mighty head. One of my most popular incorrect call of duty quotes makes an appearance here lmao.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Swearing, Fighting, Knives, Mentions of Homophobia, Unrealistic depiction of KorTac, the Military in general and uhh hand to hand combat?, Injuries, Angst, Slight NSFW, Slight OOC, Reader got a blood kink oopsie, König as well?? Unrealistic portrayal of lots of things

Summary: König’s relationship with KorTac’s local psychopath is something he himself doesn’t really understand. But when an incident happens and a picture of the two is circling around the army base they’re currently staying at, they finally address what is going on between them...

Word Count: 5,18k

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Part I

He doesn’t see Atom for a few days. 

Which is strange, considering that he saw him from afar almost every day in the past but now he’s nowhere to be seen. He can’t feel his presence at all and the attacks aren’t coming. It’s a different kind of unsettling.

Instead, he can sense that something is off with the base in general. After walking out of PT with Horangi and Klaus, they pass a few marines who look at him and then start to whisper.

The other two operators don’t notice it but König does immediately, the anxiety of years of harassment in his youth stirring awake.

At first, it’s subtle. But then after two days, it becomes obvious that the marines are really talking about him, and even his friends realize.

“What the hell’s going on?” Zeus asks eventually when they’re all sitting in the mess hall, eating some sad excuse of what they call fried chicken. He points at König with his fork while chewing.

“They’re talking about you, right? Why?”

The Austrian shrugs his shoulders. “No clue.”

He really doesn’t know. He hasn’t done anything embarrassing and the others haven’t pranked him in a while so there shouldn’t be anything to talk about. Unless...

The image of Y/N licking his own blood with a smirk on his lips comes to mind and he closes his eyes to get that memory out of his head.

Not that he succeeds this time either. In the last few days his brain has run itself stupid with replaying it.

It’s absurd and he kind of questions his sanity but there’s this part in his head that finds the blood-licking extremely hot.

Maybe he got hit a bit too much or Y/N threw him on the ground too often. Or his madness rubbed off. He laughs to himself, forgetting that the lower half of his face is currently uncovered so that he can eat.

“What?” Stiletto asks.

“What what?” He tilts his head in confusion.

“Why’re you laughing?”

He shrugs his shoulder.

“You hang out too often with Atom”, Calisto says, leaning back as she stirs her tea. “He’s rubbing off on you.”

He halts and stares at her. Can she hear his thoughts??

He’s about to open his mouth when Horangi interrupts: “I haven’t seen him around for a while. You two finally buried the hatchet?”

König shakes his head, shoving a bite into his mouth to avoid talking about it. But the others all look at him with expectation, there’s something in their expressions that makes him feel slightly anxious.

“Yeah, what’s your boyfriend up to?” Conor asks, slightly smiling, clearly trying to vex him.

“Oh fuck off”, he mutters with a full mouth, ignoring the eruption of snickers from his friends. His glad that most of his face is still covered, he can feel how his cheeks begin to heat up and he’s sure that his complexion would show it off.

He wonders though. Where’s Y/N?

The question gets answered when they’re on the way to their barracks.

Horangi suddenly pulls König aside after staring at his phone for a bit.

“Dude”, he begins, sounding unsure of how to breach the topic of whatever he wants to talk about, “I think I get why they’re talking about you.”

The tone of the Korean opens a pit in König’s stomach and instead of explaining more, Horangi just gives him his phone, standing awkwardly to the side, while he looks at the screen.

It’s a picture.

The angle tells him it was taken from outside the barracks, the photographer must’ve stood really close to the doorway. Y/N blocks off König’s head but even then it’s obvious that they’re kissing, based on the posture of their bodies.

He stares at the picture, trying to coordinate his racing thoughts.

Who took it? He asks himself barely putting the first few moments after parting lips with Atom together. But then he remembers, there was a marine.

He looks at Horangi, who watches him closely, his sunglasses on his head for once.

König doesn’t know what he should say, if he should explain, how his friend was even thinking about gay people- or in his case bisexual people- but he doesn’t even get the opportunity to open his mouth, because a sudden shout can be heard coming from the left corridor that leads to the gym.

“What the hell, Jackson- grab him!”

The group of KorTac operators all turn their heads, the shout clearly setting off some alarm bells. With various levels of interest, they make their way toward the gym, trying to find out what is going on.

König follows in a slight daze, still holding onto Horangi’s phone.

When they arrive, they can’t see shit at first because the room entrance is blocked by several marines standing in the doorway. Shouts and grunts can be heard from inside.

Someone yelps: "Fuck man, it was just a joke- stop it-!"

König’s eyes go wide when he hears Atom's voice- his tone is furious: "Let me show you what I understand as a joke, you motherfucker!"

There’s shuffling and several people shout: "Get him off!" "Fuck, how strong is this bastard!" “Calm down, sergeant!"

Due to König’s size he can look over most of the marines who are blocking the doorway and he spots the cause of the spectators; Y/N is on top of a marine, holding him in some type of gi choke, while four others try to pull him off the guy.

König recognizes the marine’s face immediately, even when he’s all bloody. It’s the man from the hallway and he understands what’s going on.

He tries to push through the crowd, calling out the sergeant’s name.

“Atom, calm down!”

He manages to make it through and rushes to them.

“Atom, let him go. You’re going to kill him”, he says and to everyone’s surprise, Y/N stops struggling as soon as he hears the Austrian’s voice. They pull him off of the guy.

“König”, he mutters and it sounds almost... relieved?

E/c meets blue. His eyes wander to the white band-aid on Atom’s neck. He gulps.

“Whatever he said, it’s not worth it. Just calm down, he’s an idiot.”

The marine with the bloody nose and face grunts, obviously not liking the insult but he knows better than retorting especially because Atom’s still in close proximity, turning to look down at him with a death stare.

The sergeant seems to contemplate König’s words for a bit. The tension and fury in his body haven’t left yet, he can tell based on the way he clenches his fists.

“That bastard-” Atom begins in a low voice, when suddenly their team leader’s voice comes from the hallway: “What the fuck is going on here?!”

König looks back, his eyes meet Stiletto’s who gives him a thumbs up and he nods.

The murmurs of the people around them stop immediately.

Majka parts the spectating crowd like Moses and he looks at the men in front of him, scrutinizing Atom and then the marine on the ground who’s holding his bleeding nose. He glances at König.

“Atom.” His voice is stern. “Go to my office and wait for me there, right now.”

The sergeant looks at him, his expression grim. “Sir-”

“RIGHT NOW!” Majka isn’t taking any of his bullshit today, he’s dead serious.

Atom looks at König for a moment and then turns and walks out of the room, his head high as he passes the onlookers.

The RS team leader turns around to face the gawking marines.

“Do you have nothing to do?” he growls. They mutter something and he just looks at the door. “Fuck off!”

The KorTac operators watch as they begin to filter out of the gym, the four marines who tried to pull Atom off of their guy also begin to move, one of them helps the bloodied man up but Majka points at him.

“Major Briggs wants to see your ass.”

The marine’s eyes go wide. He stammers a “Yes, sir!” and then hurries out of the room.

When the only people in the room are from KorTac, Majka sighs deeply and wipes his forehead. He looks at König.

“I don’t give a shit about your or anyone else’s sexual preferences. You like what you like, I don’t care but I’m telling you if anyone gives you shit-” the team leader looks at all of them, “tell me or Ridgeback. We’ll handle it. And if any of you have some dumbass opinions about someone’s sexuality, I’ll make sure to beat your ass straight, understood?”

König feels relief wash over him even after being put in the spotlight.

“Yessir!” they all shout and Hutch whistles loudly. “Awe, you care about us!”

Majka clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Yes, I do.”

They laugh and Conor shouts from the back: “Even about the lunatic?”

Their team leader rolls his eyes. “Even him. And now buzz off.”

He makes a shoo-shoo gesture and they file out into the hallway, König following behind the Serbian and Stiletto.

Zeus and Aksel joke around with Majka but he just flips them off and then leaves in the direction of his office. The others slowly make their way to the barracks, talking about what had just occurred.

The Austrian lingers behind the group, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the whole development of the last 15 minutes. Horangi seems to have realized that as he slows down to walk beside him.

“You okay?” he asks him. König shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “The marine- he took the photo.”

His friend nods. “Yeah, I guessed that...” He remains quiet for a while.

“So... Are you guys together then? Did you tame Atom without telling us?” The Korean shows a teasing smile towards the end.

König sighs deeply, the anxious knot in his stomach grows. “No. He just kissed me out of nowhere. He completely surprised me.”

Horangi tilts his head, eyeing him closely, trying to figure out how far he can prod. “So you’re not...?” he trails off.

Ah, fuck it.

“No, I am bi”, he states roughly, louder than he intended. The two KorTac operators in front of them turn around. “What does that mean?” Zero asks.

“He goes for both ladies and gents”, Klaus explains.

Zero nods thoughtfully. “I see. No mercy for anyone, makes sense.”

König looks at Horangi and they exchange eye contact.

His friend bursts out laughing, making more heads turn in their group.

“What?” Zero asks and Klaus just shakes his head, patting his shoulder. König can’t stop himself from smiling either, Zero’s answer was just perfect.

The anxiety in his chest slowly starts to disappear. Yeah, fuck it.

It isn’t his first coming out and he has good friends in KorTac. Worst case scenario, he’ll use the knife skills he has perfected over the last few months with Atom’s training to silence someone. His smile drops.

Atom.

Will he get a disciplinary meeting for beating up the marine?

König knows the sergeant has been warned several times about his behaviour. But Majka’s words from before... He knows that Y/N didn’t just beat the guy for no reason. Will they take that into account?

He doesn’t know and now the anxiety is back.

They reach the barracks and the women split with a “See you later, losers!” from them. König contemplates whether he should follow the others or go to Majka’s office to intercept Atom.

To be honest, he doesn’t really want to do the latter. He hasn’t talked to the sergeant in days and although he had a lot of time, he still hasn’t found the words he could say to him.

He knows they should address whatever that kiss meant but...

He just doesn’t know. Whether Y/N is serious or just toying with him. If he is, König doesn’t know if he would be able to deal with that truth. He feels someone’s eyes on him and he turns to his side, where Horangi is watching him.

“Are you going to talk with Atom about what just happened?” he asks, keeping his voice low this time. But he doesn’t have to worry because the others are walking off, disappearing around the corner.

König bites his lips. “I don’t know... Should I?”

Horangi looks at him baffled. “Why not?” he asks almost incredulously.

“We don’t usually talk”, he mutters fidgeting with the seam of his mask. His friend’s eyebrows almost disappear in his hairline. “So you do what...? Just fight all the time without a peep?”

He clicks his tongue. “No, I mean we just don’t... talk about anything serious. We don’t even do small talk. I have no clue what he’s doing in his off time, where he goes, what he likes to do. He just doesn’t seem like the guy for it.”

Horangi hums, understanding what he’s getting at. “You think it’ll be awkward?”

He nods. Yeah, that’s exactly it. He just can’t picture the conversation in his head.

‘Hey, so why did you kiss me out of the blue? Were you attracted to me all this time or was that just a stupid joke to throw me off my game? Because if so I’m probably going to go dig a hole outside at the obstacle course and kill myself in it. And why did you beat that guy up? Is it because he caught your joke and you’re a raging homophobe or because you wanted to protect your or my reputation?’ Ja, eher nicht.

He doesn’t know how Atom would react. Yes, he did get to know the sergeant better in the last few months, he got to know some of his personality and his quirks. But they’re mostly related to fighting.

König can discern when Y/N is in a good or a bad mood in their training fights.

If he’s in high spirits, the significant grin on his face is almost up to his ears and there’s a glint in his e/c eyes, his eyebrows raised. He trash talks more than usual and almost playfully strikes at him, a skip in his movements and sometimes it’s almost like he’s dancing.

The killing intent in his attacks is there but it’s more like he’s a cat playing with a mouse before biting it dead.

Unlike when he’s in a bad mood. Then there’s no amusement in his eyes, even though he keeps grinning. But the smirk combined with the furrowed line of his eyebrows is unsettling.

Y/N’s posture is usually an indication that he’s pissed. If he is, there’s a certain way he holds himself, the center of his balance low, shoulders tight.

His attacks are ruthless and precise and it always leaves König wondering if this is the time when he finally gets stabbed or cut. Those fights prove to him that there’s some truth behind Atom’s nut job reputation.

More than a few times he has witnessed the other’s temper when Y/N abruptly decides to end their fighting with a quick feint.

“It’s getting fucking boring.” And the next thing he knows a fist is smashing into the mat or wall right next to his head.

But usually, Atom feels better after sparring for a while, as seen by his walking away while whistling, even if he was pissed at the beginning of the fight. As he said, the sergeant seems to release his pent-up stress when they exchange blows.

So yeah... König can read Atom’s mood to a certain extent but there’s not much he knows about his personality besides that. In general, he doesn’t really know the man.

He’s aware of Atom’s exceptional combat skills, whether with a knife or a rifle and on ops he can count on him to carry on even through hell but more than that...

Not in a billion years did he think that he could potentially be attracted to him or other men in general. Okay, he was even questioning women, based on the lack of a reaction when they visited a strip club once on Hutch’s birthday.

But that’s beside the point. He just... König got to know Y/N’s fists throughout the last few months but other than that the man, his thoughts and feelings, they’re all an enigma.

Horangi stares at the pondering Austrian who looks hesitant and he could practically feel the anxiety radiate off of him.

But the Korean knows. He knows something König hasn’t realized yet and basically every one of the others knows as well, after all, they met Atom way earlier than he did.

“I think you should go have a heart-to-heart talk with Atom.”

The tall giant stares down at him.

“Yeah?”

He rolls his eyes and slaps his shoulders.

“I’m telling you there’s this raging sexual tension since you two met and I and the others are so fucking tired of dealing with it so yeah, please go talk about it, for fuck’s sake.”

König pulls a face not believing a word he just said but Horangi can’t see it.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go. Wish me luck.”

He begins to walk and he looks back at his friend. The other operator just shows him the middle finger. “Go get your boy!”

“Fick dich!” he replies over his shoulder waving him off.

“Mi-chin saeggi!”

The curses of his friend in his ears, König breathes in deeply and makes his way slowly to Majka’s office. He waits in front of the door for a while unsure whether Atom is still in there with his team leader.

Two minutes pass. Then five. Then ten.

He’s about to finally get a grip and knock when the door swings open and he stands tall, hoping to see Ato- and it’s Ridgeback.

“Jesus! König what the hell are you doing standing so close in front of the door?!” she yells surprised and he apologizes immediately, backing up from the doorframe. “Sorry! I wanted to uh- is Atom still in there?”

She looks him up and down, and an understanding expression grows on her face.

“No, Majka dismissed him already. He should be in the infirmary, he’s supposed to apologize to Mr. fuckface.”

König tilts his head, not quite sure if she’s meaning what he thinks she means. “The marine he beat up”, she clarifies.

“Ah, yeah. That makes sense...” he says a bit flustered. She’s about to leave when she halts and looks up at him, her eyes soft now.

“König, what that guy did? Taking pictures and spreading them around, making hateful comments? I’m not saying that Atom’s reaction was right but I can understand him. If someone did this to my wife... Majka and I are in agreement. And the higher-ups are too. We have a zero-tolerance policy for shit like that and if it happens again, come to us. We’ll handle it. Gladly.”

She smiles dangerously at the end and he nods slowly, a bit taken aback that she just casually dropped her marriage status.

“I’ll see you later, König.”

“Thank you, Ridgeback”, he says after her and she waves as she walks off.

5 minutes later he finally comes across Atom. Not in the infirmary though.

He wanted to take a quick trip to the toilet before the slightly nerve-wracking conversation when he walks into the bathroom and spots the sergeant with his back to him.

He freezes when he sees him and for a few seconds they’re quiet, the only sound is the closing door behind him.

He takes a deep breath and finally speaks:

“Atom...? Can we talk? About the uh- the photo and... that fight just now?”

Y/N is standing at the sink, cleaning up the blood on his knuckles with a towel. He turns to glance at the Austrian. "König", he acknowledges his presence before continuing to swipe at the back of his hands.

His demeanor is unlike his usual self. His posture is slightly hunched over, not standing tall as usual. The usual confidence - Conor calls it arrogance - was nowhere to be seen.

König looks at him, suddenly unsure if it really was a good idea to follow Horangi’s words.

At this moment, he’s not sure whether Atom’s agitated because he can’t see his face. But the tension in his body is telling him yes.

“That fight wasn’t just about the photo, right?”, he asks slowly, watching the sergeant with eagle eyes.

Y/N halts, stopping his mindless wiping of the blood. "Oh? Do I sense some brain cells from you König?", he jokes half-heartedly still standing with his back towards him.

König bites his lip, not liking the tone of the other’s words.

He’s already anxious as is and he feels like the Atom he’s facing right now is unknown territory. He almost feels like they’re back to zero like after their first fight when König believed he was a fucking psychopath. The operator standing at the sink feels like a stranger.

He hides his hands in his pockets, clenching and unclenching them into fists in an attempt to relax.

He waits for the h/c haired man to talk but Y/N doesn’t.

He takes a deep breath and asks quietly: “Why did you kiss me?”

The Austrian looks at the other man, he sees his back muscles tense and Atom puts down both hands on the edge of the sink, looking down. König waits with bated breath for an answer. Instead, he gets a question back.

“Did it disgust you?”

Y/N almost spats the words, they’re dripping with hostility and subconsciously, König clutches the hilt of his switch knife.

“No”, he says carefully but it seems like the sergeant misunderstands his tone and he growls: “Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying!” he responds earnestly. Atom looks him in the eyes, then he stares at his hips, realizing something.

“You brought your knife?”, he asks in a low tone, his voice on edge.

König can feel the atmosphere in the room shift immediately and based on the furrow of Y/N’s eyebrows it’s not good.

“I always have it with me”, he explains, “just in case.” You taught me that he thinks. “Just in case, huh... Take it out.”

He looks at him baffled.

“No, why-” Y/N takes a step in his direction, his hand on the sheathe of his Atom Splitter at his leg. “Take it out, König.”

Fuck, he thinks. This isn’t how he expected the conversation to go. Fuck Horangi, man, fuck him.

He does as he’s told, activating the blade and Atom unsheathes his knife, twirling it in that familiar fashion while his significant grin forms on his lips. A shiver runs down König’s spine.

“Can we not do this right now?”, he pleads, holding the knife at his side, clearly not wanting to fight the sergeant. But Atom doesn’t care. He never seemed to care before either. He just attacks. Relentlessly.

By the first blow, König realizes that the other man is deadly serious about it this time. His mask gets cut, and the blade barely misses his cheek. The knot in his stomach coils.

If he’s not careful, he’s going to die. He can see the bloodlust in the e/c eyes.

König pushes Y/N’s blade away with his own. He put a lot of force behind it but the sergeant is unfazed, he attacks from a new angle, stabbing at König’s torso.

He blocks the knife but Atom gets a hit in, punching his jaw.

The bathroom is filled with pained grunts and the sound of punches but all König can hear is his messy heartbeat as adrenaline is pumped through his veins.

What ticked him off? I didn’t want this. That thought spirals in his head. I don’t want this.

Atom kicks his knee, making him falter.

Next thing he knows, he’s kneeling and Y/N’s knife is pressed against his throat. Even through the fabric of his mask, he can feel the coldness on his skin. They both pant. König looks up at the sergeant, his face is blank, the smirk gone.

Atom grabs his hair through the fabric at the back of his head, pulling it back harshly. He gasps alarmed, dropping his knife, and he searches the e/c eyes. They stare down at him, pupils blown wide.

“Y/N”, he whispers. The man begins to smile ominously. “You make my blood boil, König.”

His face changes when he hears those words.

The nervousness of having that knife to his throat when Atom’s eyes look dead like this is still fluttering in his chest. But there’s also something else. A knot forms in his lower stomach and his eyes land on the white band-aid on the sergeant’s throat.

Y/N continues: “Only you get me this excited... Makes me wanna fight all day long. What am I supposed to do?” He tilts his head.

König gulps and watches with eagle eyes how the h/c haired man uses his blade to lift the seam of his mask and flip it over his head, exposing his scarred face. A burst of anxiety and self-consciousness rushes through his veins as those e/c eyes study his appearance. A glint appears in them.

“Do you like our fights?” Atom asks, his voice slightly hoarse as he presses the blade to König’s cheek, tracing one of the pale scars with it.

The tone of his voice is light but he can feel the significance of that question, he sees the expectant look in Y/N’s eyes.

He nods. “Yeah”, he mutters slowly, staring up at him, “I do.”

Atom’s brows lift and his smile widens, showing the white of his teeth and his gums. “Really?”, he prods. He nods again.

He can see Y/N debate something, emotions flit across his face that he hasn’t ever seen before on him and the knot of anxiety in his chest unfurls, making space for something else. Hope, anticipation.

“Atom...” he begins and Y/N takes this as his cue to kiss König without hesitation. It takes him by surprise again but this time he’s prepared to breathe through his nose and he actually responds to the kiss.

Atom’s grip on his hair is tight and he holds his head in place as he practically devours König. The intensity makes him gasp and Y/N uses it to push his tongue into his mouth, exploring every inch mercilessly without allowing any pushback.

The sergeant kisses like he fights. Aggressively and intensely. He loves it. If he were touched carefully at this very moment, he would probably dislike it. After all, the ferocity is what he always enjoys about their fights.

König allows his eyes to close, leaning into the sensation, slowly getting lost, when he feels a sharp pain and tastes iron in his mouth. Atom fucking bit his tongue!

He grunts in protest but the other man doesn’t care at all. They part, their breaths mingling and Y/N groans: “You taste so fucking good, König.”

He looks up at him, seeing the intense desire burning in the e/c eyes and certainty washes over him.

He pushes himself off the ground, forcing the sergeant to let go of his hair. He towers over him and for a second they just stare at each other before König moves, his hands pushing Y/N back until he collides with the bathroom wall.

He dips his head and their lips connect again, the taste of iron intermingling. He can hear the clatter of Atom’s knife on the ground before two hands touch him, igniting a fire wherever they roam his skin.

Y/N tugs and prods at his clothes, pulling his shirt out of his pants to stick his hands underneath, and in the next second König can feel fingernails dig into his back. He growls and the sergeant smiles into their kiss. “’re always so aggressive-” König complains breathlessly.

Atom snorts. “Don’t act like you don’t like it.” His lips trail down his neck, biting and sucking and König presses his thigh between Y/N’s legs in response, getting a low groan out of the other man.

It sends a spark through his body and his mouth twitches as Atom grinds against his thigh. “Y/N-” he warns but he gets interrupted when the flush of a toilet can be heard.

Atom stops moving, his hand halting mid-air, only inches away from König’s belt buckle. “It’s the women’s bathroom”, he says, trying to calm the Austrian down before touching his belt. But it sobers König up a bit and he leans back, stopping his hands.

“We should probably stop here. It would be a bit awkward if someone walks in.”

Y/N clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Let them watch.”

He smirks and they look at each other. König’s hair is absolutely dishevelled, his face red from their make-out session. Atom doesn’t look any better, his eyes still hold the glimmering desire.

He breathes out slowly and begins to smile.

“We should continue elsewhere.” He licks his lips, the bloody taste still in his mouth but unlike before this day he likes it.

Atom follows his tongue’s movement with eagle eyes. “Yeah, we definitely should.” He pauses for a second, disappointment evident on his face.

“I can’t right now though.” He sounds grumpy.

König tilts his head, confused, staring down at him. “Why?”

“I have to clean the bathrooms as punishment.”

He blinks and follows Y/N’s eyes toward the mop in the corner.

“Will you help me?” The sergeant bats his eyelashes like the women who try to flirt with König at the local bars. He laughs, walking backward, putting his hands up.

“I just remembered I have something to do.”

E/c eyes darken. “Come on! Be good and help your boyfriend!”

His heart leaps. “Oh, so we’re boyfriends now? I don’t remember saying yes to this agreement.”

Y/N glowers at him, picking up his knife from the ground.

“It was a joke!” he protests but the man strides up to him, pointing the blade at his throat. At this point, it’s getting old.

“Say it.”

He snorts. Atom stares up at him, his dead expression suddenly looking less intimidating and more so somewhat adorable. He tilts his head, provocatively.

“What?”

“You know what.”

König grins and grabs Y/N’s hand holding the knife.

“I’ll let you be my boyfriend.”

Atom only raises an eyebrow and he guides the sergeant’s hand and knife away from his throat before dipping down again and stealing a kiss from his lips. A soft one this time. One that makes König’s heart swell and flutter from happiness.

Y/N closes his eyes, enjoying the moment and they stay closed even after they part. König coughs, smirking.

“Anyways, I can’t help you with the cleaning sorry.”

Atom opens his eyes wide and a breathy indignant laugh escapes him as he watches the Austrian turn around and leave the bathroom whistling, mirroring the many times Y/N did it to him. Payback’s a bitch, he thinks.

“You forgot your knife! König! Come back!” Atom shouts his tone almost pleading but König is already out the door and he laughs and yells over his shoulder:

“You can bring it to me tonight, mein Schatz!”

___

Translations (freely mostly)

Ja, eher nicht - German: “Yes, better not”

Fick dich - German: “Fuck you”

mi-chin saeggi  미친새끼 - Korean: “Crazy son of a bitch”

mein Schatz - German: “my dear, my love” lit. “my treasure”

[borninwinter81]

William Blake and Good Omens - an intertextual analysis

Please note: I did another version of this and posted it, but it was quite hurried, way too short, and was incorrect in a number of ways so I deleted it. However it had already been reblogged by the time i did so. If you happen to see another version of this meta that's not the right one, this is the version I'm happy with!

After my previous post re William Blake and Good Omens did so well, and so many people showed an interest I've decided to do a more in depth piece. This is focused upon the TV version of Good Omens, not the book.

Please don't tag Neil in this - although it's mostly textual analysis I do a very small amount of S3 theorising, and I know he doesn't want to see that.

I am in no way suggesting that Neil and Terry specifically wrote Good Omens with Blake in mind, I honestly just wanted an excuse to write more about Blake because I love his work so much, and I thought it would be interesting to try and apply some intertexuality since the works will contain similar themes, both being about God, religion, humanity, and angels and demons.

I also should stress that I am not an expert on Blake, there are people far more qualified to comment on him than I. I'm just a former literature student who loves his work.

There have been many different interpretations of Blake's work over the years, so it's completely fine to disagree with someone else's ideas about it, as with any work of art or literature. And although this piece is likely to be long, I'll barely be able to scratch the surface of all the possible meanings that could be ascribed to it.

Much like the old adage that if someone claims to understand quantum physics they're lying, I'm not sure anyone can truly fathom the full meaning of Blake's philosophy (especially in his later prophetic works, fuuuuuuck those beasts....), so if you're confused by him don't be discouraged, that's perfectly normal!

That being said, I wish to discuss the parallels between Good Omens and The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, my personal favourite and probably the most accessible of his longer works.

"Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence. From these contraries spring what the religious call Good & Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy. Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell."

This excerpt is from near the opening and sets out the central idea of the work - that there is an essential duality to humanity, and each person is a combination of extremes. These extremes are not at war with each other, but rather are equally necessary, hence the "marriage" of the title. "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" is a metaphor for the human experience.

Consistently throughout The Marriage... Blake refers to the two extremes as Reason and Energy. These terms could be construed in a number of different ways: thought versus emotion, mental versus physical, restraint versus desire, temperance versus excess, caution versus impulsiveness, and following the rules versus free will.

Blake's use of the word "Reason" in this context may be somewhat confusing, however he likely chose it because of his negative feelings towards science and the Age of Enlightenment. Blake saw literal visions of angels and prophets and the divinity of all creation, and hated that science reduced everything to formulas, calculations, and materialism, leaving the world bereft of wonder. "Art is the Tree of Life. Science is the Tree of Death" as he put it.

His ideas about "reason" are best expressed by his painting "Newton". Though inspired by the scientist, it is not a portrait - instead it depicts a figure deeply engrossed in scientific drawings and calculations, totally ignoring the beauty all around him - see below.

In the context of The Marriage... Reason is "passive" because it involves thought, caution, self-restraint, and doing what you are told, all states which block action. Energy is "active" because it is physical, emotional, impulsive and allows you to act based on your own choices and desires. It's quite clear that Blake feels "energy" is the preferable state - he tells us as much in the next section:

"The Voice of the Devil

All Bibles or sacred codes, have been the causes of the following Errors. 1. That Man has two real existing principles Viz: a Body & a Soul. 2. That Energy, call'd Evil, is alone from the Body, & that Reason, call'd Good, is alone from the Soul. 3. That God will torment Man in Eternity for following his Energies. But the following Contraries to these are True. 1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; for that call'd Body is a portion of Soul discern'd by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age. 2. Energy is the only life and is from the Body and Reason is the bound or outward circumference of Energy. 3. Energy is Eternal Delight."

So the body is an aspect of the soul, not separate from it, Energy comes from the body, it is Reason which places limits upon Energy, but Energy is eternal delight. Physicality, desire, impulsiveness, emotion, sensual pleasure and free will are not wrong or evil, they are aspects of the human soul and it is from them that we derive our enjoyment of life.

This does not necessarily mean that Reason is always bad. After all, Blake tells us that both are necessary for human existence. Sometimes temperance, caution and thought before action are required. But Reason becomes negative when it "usurps its place and governs the unwilling", i.e. when it completely supplants Energy and becomes the sole guiding factor, forcing passivity.

The Angels of The Marriage... are governed by "systematic reasoning", therefore they are wholly creatures of Reason. They are also "all religious" meaning they believe the "errors" stated above. His Devils by contrast "hate religion" meaning they believe the "contraries", which are the true statements according to Blake. It does not necessarily follow that they are wholly governed by Energy, merely that they believe Energy is "eternal delight".

It is worth noting at this point that Blake saw God and religion as totally separate. For Blake, "God" is that connection with divine wonder which was integral to his life; he tells us plainly that "all deities reside in the human breast" and that "the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God". In other words all humans have a direct and intuitive link with God and don't require the church, Priests, or a religious framework and adherence to a set of rules in order to reach moral decisions. These rules exist only to "enslave the vulgar".

The importance of this ability to make one's own choices about a moral course of action is shown by one of the "Memorable Fancy" sections of The Marriage...

Blake relates how a Devil is able to use an Angel's "systematic reasoning" against them:

"if Jesus Christ is the greatest man, you ought to love him in the greatest degree; now hear how he has given his sanction to the law of ten commandments: did he not mock at the sabbath, and so mock the sabbaths God? Murder those who were murder'd because of him? Turn away the law from the woman taken in adultery? Steal the labor of others to support him? Bear false witness when he omitted making a defence before Pilate? Covet when he pray'd for his disciples, and when he bid them shake off the dust of their feet against such as refused to lodge them? I tell you, no virtue can exist without breaking these ten commandments; Jesus was all virtue, and acted from impulse, not from rules."

The Angel has no way to refute the "reasoning" that Jesus was governed by Energy and "impulse", i.e. his own morality, the "voice of righteous indignation", not reasoning and the rules laid down by Heaven. And because Jesus is the Messiah he must be virtuous, therefore Energy is virtuous. The Angel immediately allows himself to be consumed by fire and is resurrected as a Devil.

How can these concepts apply to the world of Good Omens?  This was where my first draft was totally incorrect, as I tried to transfer Blake's ideas about Angels and Demons and Heaven and Hell wholesale, applying "reason" to Aziraphale and Heaven and "energy" to Crowley and Hell.  In fact the divide is slightly different in the GO-verse: Crowley and Aziraphale *both* represent Energy, and it is Heaven and Hell that act according to Reason.

At first glance Aziraphale may appear to toe the line - he needs creative application of the rules to make him comfortable with trying to avert the apocalypse, and when he doesn't like the way matters are being handled by the Archangels he seeks a higher authority and goes straight to God. He'd clearly prefer someone to be confirming the rightness of his actions for him. However this doesn't mean that he won't act on his own.

Immediately upon his introduction to the story he has given away his flaming sword, an action that he took impulsively because he felt it was right, not because someone told him to. It bothers him, but he does it anyway.

In the Job storyline, though he initially looks for some loophole within the rules that will allow him to save Job's children, in the end he directly goes against Heaven to do it, even though he believes he is going to Fall and become a Demon for having done so.

Though he resists it and exhausts all other possible avenues first, he eventually does take an active role in averting the apocalypse in S1.

He hides Jim at great personal risk to himself and against the will of both Heaven and Hell, again because he feels it is the right thing to do.

He is therefore perfectly capable of independent action from a position of "righteous indignation".

On a more basic level, he enjoys worldly pleasures, which all come from "energy" according to Blake's philosophy. Food and drink most obviously, but also books, music, dancing, theatre, art and so on.

Crowley is more easy to place as acting from Energy - in spite of the obvious aesthetic differences between them, he also loves worldly pleasures. Alcohol and coffee, snazzy clothing, driving his car with Queen blaring on the stereo, going to lunch with Aziraphale, Shakespearean comedies. All things he isn't supposed to want or need, and which baffle other Demons, in the same way that Aziraphale's desire for food baffles the Angels.

And he's absolutely willing to act according to his own moral impulses when they conflict with Hell's orders (or Heaven's), be it saving Job's children, ensuring that Elspeth doesn't die by suicide, or averting the apocalypse. Yes, he'll try to hide his "good" actions in order to avoid punishment by Hell, but he's firmly "on his own side".

Conversely, Heaven and Hell are both part of the structure of religion in this story, are strictly adherent to a set of rules, and their inhabitants appear to have no real desires of their own, other than possible advancement within the systems they uphold. They are "passive" in that their functions allow the status quo to continue and the "great plan" to unfold as they believe it is meant to, even though each side expects a different outcome.

Again, applying Blake's philosophy, I would say the reason for this is that "energy is from the body". Crowley and Aziraphale have both been given bodies in order that they can exist on earth, and *have* existed on earth for 6000 years, therefore "energy" - physical pleasures and free thinking - have become a part of who they are.

On a more fundamental level, possession of a body can be equated to humanity, and humanity has been shown as the most powerful force of all in this story, its influence having led to Adam becoming "human incarnate", and thus acting according to what he feels is right, instead of fulfilling the function he was destined for.

Heaven and Hell contain no material objects, and the Angels and Demons are spiritual beings, having no bodies, so they are not open to energy, and therefore are wholly governed by Reason, and the preservation of the religious structures within which they exist. Structures which, as for Blake, may not actually have anything to do with God herself. In S1 she is a distant observer, clearly aware through her narration of all that is going on, but not interceding in any way. In S2 she is barely present save for her voice being heard briefly in Job, and overlaid with Gabriel's on two occasions.

Bearing all this in mind, what predictions can we make regarding S3 by applying Blake's philosophy?

"The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years is true, as I have heard from Hell.

For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at [the] tree of life, and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed and appear infinite and holy, whereas it now appears finite and corrupt.

This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment."

The parallels of the cherub with his flaming sword, and the passage of 6000 years should be obvious to anyone reading this - they have of course been lifted directly from the Bible as they are in GO.

I have read some metas which speculated that Aziraphale's bookshop, or perhaps Earth itself, is a metaphorical stand-in for Eden or The Tree of Life. Aziraphale has been commanded to leave his "Eden" and will now be instrumental in causing the whole of creation to become infinite and holy, but Blake tells us this will be done by an improvement of sensual enjoyment, which arises from Energy not Reason.

Sensual enjoyment is something which is intrinsic to Aziraphale's character, and this could make his placement in Heaven very important.

Putting aside all the "final fifteen" theories and taking matters at face value, Aziraphale tells us that if he's in charge he can make a difference - he needs to subvert the system from the inside out. The most subversive thing of all could be that a sensualist who acts according to "the voice of moral indignation" and "Energy" has become the supreme Archangel. We have seen in Blake how a realisation that Energy could be virtuous was enough to convert an Angel into a Devil (incidentally, does the image of an Angel being consumed by fire and emerging as a Devil seem familiar at all...)

We may have seen the beginnings of this already. Gabriel and Beelzebub became open to Energy from such little things as visiting earth, spending time in one another's company, and their mutual enjoyment of a song, which has given them wants and desires beyond those dictated by Heaven and Hell. This is enough to make them wish to leave their roles behind.

It's possible that the same may happen with Muriel. They haven't yet imbibed food or drink, but they have shown an enjoyment of books, which are an earthly pleasure, and open the reader up to new ideas and ways of thinking.

Of course, this would lead to questions regarding the Metatron's statement that he has "ingested things", and whether this means he is acting from reason or energy. Of course the simplest explanation is that it is a manipulation tactic, and he is lying about having done so, but if true that statement has some interesting implications. However, this is now super-long and I'm out of juice, so will leave others to speculate. I may return to this in the future!

There we go, hope you enjoyed. I doubt this will reach nearly as many people as my first Blake post, but if a few find it of interest then my work is done!

[acewritesfics]

His Father’s Son | EDDIE MUNSON

⚠️⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST. ⚠️⚠️

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: From Anon.

Warnings: angst, death, fluff, unexpected pregnancy, grief, parenthood. It’s an emotional rollercoaster. Italics are flashbacks

Word Count: 4,020 - this is the longest imagine I've ever written and I wish they could all be this long.

Tag List: Open - acewritesfics taglist sign up

Stranger Things Masterlist

“What shall we do today?” Y/N asks her 2-year-old son, James, as she finishes dressing him for the day. “Should we paint some new pictures for Uncle Dustin?”  

When the thought of painting and his honorary uncle makes the small boy’s huge doe-brown eyes light up, she smiles. Painting is currently the toddler’s favorite activity. He painted on any paper she could provide him with, frequently himself and even the walls of the trailer they resided in. After the second time he painted on the walls, she made sure it would be an outdoor activity. 

“You stay right here,” she tells him, putting him in his play pen. “Mommy is going to go set up your paint, okay?”  

“Paits!” Although using the incorrect word, the toddler clapped.  

She smiles, tenderly correcting him, “Paints."  

"Pants.”  He cheers again, this time with a completely different word. 

“Close enough,” she shrugs and takes out the container filled with all the painting supplies James would ever need.   

When Y/N revealed that James’ new favorite activity is painting, Dustin, Steve, Robin, and Will, had gathered all the materials they could locate. When Steve and Dustin dropped it all to Y/N, James was beyond excited while she was in tears thanking them all. After most of the town turned their backs on her, the support she received from the Upside-Down crew occasionally became overwhelming for her. 

Because her son, James Edward Munson, was the child of supposed cult leader and serial murderer, Eddie Munson, the residents of Hawkins immediately despised the small child and believed he was the devil’s spawn. As soon as it was revealed that she was pregnant, the rumors surrounding Eddie got much worse. He was accused of sacrificing Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick in order for Y/N to become pregnant with Satan’s offspring, ignoring the fact that she became pregnant three months before the murders took place, with Y/N and Eddie finding out just one month earlier. 

Y/N made numerous attempts to escape Hawkins, but she was unable to do so. The only parent Eddie had who cared about him, his uncle, is still in Hawkins along with her parents. Despite Wayne and her parents’ best efforts to persuade her to leave and their offers of help, she was unable to go. The people she cared about most remained in this town. She wanted her and Eddie’s son to be raised surrounded by their families and friends, not people who didn’t know them. 

Over the past year, the animosity had gradually subsided, but every now and again, someone would say something snarky to remind her of their true feelings about her son. They treated her like a victim for some reason while treating her son the same way they had treated his father. The only difference was that James didn’t have an angry mob of hicks hunting him down and falsely accusing him of murder. 

She was setting up the paint table outside when she saw Wayne’s car parked outside his trailer, letting her know he was at home. She decides to take him some dinner before he returns to work later, knowing he will have just gotten home from his night shift at the plant.  

After returning inside, she lifts James out from the playpen and takes him outside. “Poppa is at home. Should we visit him later?” She asks the young child as she sets him down in front of the table. 

“Poppa home,” he says, his hands automatically going into the paint and making a mess. Fortunately for her, she had dressed him in an old outfit that he was outgrowing.  

“We can cook him dinner and bring it to him. I’m sure Poppa would appreciate it.” She smiles as she sits across from him on a flimsy metal and fabric outdoor chair.  

Wayne is now known as Grandpa, or Poppa, as James refers to him, rather than Uncle Wayne. 

After Eddie died, Wayne continued to let her live with him as they moved into a trailer near their old one.  While still grieving for his nephew, he made sure she had all she needed and along with her parents, he helped her in any way that he could. For her, Wayne had become a second father. She also knew it was what Eddie would have wanted. He had repeatedly stated to her that Wayne had been more of a father figure to him than his own father. Wayne was the one who most deserved to be called grandpa. 

As Y/N watches her son, she is struck by how much he resembles his dad, right down to his captivating big brown eyes, dark curly hair, and adorable button nose. He even had some of the same mannerisms. His small tongue poked out as he concentrated intently on his painting, just like Eddie’s did when he was contemplating or concentrating on whatever he was doing. The way he stood, and even the way he threw tantrums, reminded her of Eddie. Though it didn’t bother her, she had started to question if James had inherited anything from her or if it was just a joke God was pulling. James was his father’s twin in every way, which she loved because, in a way, it reminded her that Eddie was still with her. 

She remembers the moment she learned she was pregnant with James as she dipped her finger in paint to paint a picture of her own.  

A month prior to Eddie’s death, Y/N received a call from her doctor confirming that all the symptoms she had been experiencing were caused by her pregnancy.  

Eddie found her outside the trailer rather than inside, crying and looking terrified when he arrived home after school.  

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he takes a seat next to her, throwing his arm around her shoulder and drawing her closer. “What’s going on?”  

She sniffles, placing her hand on his knee and her head on his shoulder, “I got some news from the doctor today. They found out why I’ve been sick the last couple week.”  

She notices Eddie tensing up a little. She was aware that he would be considering the worst-case scenario. He frequently tended to do that. 

After a brief pause, she announces, “I’m pregnant."  

He starts to relax a little and gives her a head kiss. The news didn’t really surprise them. She had visited the doctor because of their suspicions about an unexpected pregnancy. However, neither of them stopped considering the possibility that it might be a false alarm and something entirely different. And even so, the young couple was still absolutely frightened. 

Eddie was still in school, selling drugs on the side, and Y/N was working at Family Video alongside Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, having put her college plans on hold because she didn’t know what she wanted to do just yet. In order to save money for their own trailer after Eddie finally graduates in two months, they lived in his uncle’s trailer, occupying the one available bedroom. And now they need to prepare and start providing for a baby. 

"We’ll figure it out,” Eddie promises. Since they found out he wouldn’t be graduating with her in his first senior year, it had become his go-to line.  

She responds as she always does, “I know we will, we always do."  

She had no reason to doubt it because it was true. No matter how great or little the challenge, she and Eddie always managed to overcome it. That is how Y/N knew that he was the  man she would eventually marry and have a family with. It turned out that they would be beginning a family sooner than either of them had anticipated. 

She leaned in closer to him as he lifted her hand from his knee into the one that wasn’t over her shoulder and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm before kissing her head again. ” You are aware that I’ll be teaching our kid how to play D&D, right?“  

She can’t help but grin at what he says. "And guitar, and metal bands, and-”  

He lifts her head and gives her a soft kiss, cutting her off. His huge brown eyes pierce her own Y/E/C eyes as he ends the kiss. “I love you.”  

She kisses him again and whispers, “I love you, too.” 

“Mommy, look!” James exclaims as he holds up his latest masterpiece. The yellow, blue, and red colors blended to create a purplish brown hue in a painting of his handprints.  

“That’s incredible, my beautiful boy!” She praised the toddler. “Uncle Dusty will love it, I think. Should we go give it to him when he gets out of school tomorrow?” She continues, thinking about the kid she watched grow into a fine young man. 

Along with Mike, Lucas, Max, El, and Will, who returned to Hawkin’s after beating Vecna, Dustin was a senior in high school. She had remained close to them, but Dustin, like he had with Eddie, had a special place in her heart.  She had chosen the teenage boy as James’ godfather despite his age. As she observed Dustin with her son, she was confident that she had made the right choice. Just like he had with Eddie, Dustin also shared a deep bond James.  

She wasn’t surprised when she walked into the living room one day to find Dustin teaching James about all the Dungeons and Dragons characters, telling him about all the campaigns Eddie had thought up, and explaining to him that he was a Hellfire Club legacy and would one day lead the club and serve as a dungeon master like his father had. Despite the fact that James was oblivious to anything Dustin was saying, she could tell that she was raising a future dungeon master because he was listening intently and was fascinated in the figurines. 

James nods his little head, his eyes sparkling with delight at the possibility of seeing his favorite person. She smiles and puts another sheet of paper in front of him before going to hang the painting he had finished on the clothes line to dry since she doesn’t want grass or dirt to get on it.  

“How about painting something for Poppa?” She makes the suggestion after returning to him and seeing him gazing at the white sheet of paper as if he were deciding what to paint next. 

“Maxie?” he asks, referring to the redhead girl who lives two trailers down from them and Dustin’s friend. She believes her two-year-old son has a little crush on her. Most nights when she had work, Max or her mother Susan would watch him until she arrived home.  

“Would you like to paint a picture for Max as well?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer. He nods his head once more. “You could do one for Poppa and another one for Maxie,” she suggests. James appears to agree as he begins to paint with his hands again, creating an even bigger mess.  

She sits back down in the chair across from him and resumes her painting, losing herself once more in her memories. 

“We’re not naming our child Ozzy,” she protests as she sits on their bed, back against the headboard, a large jar of peanut butter and a spoon on her lap, staring at him as if he’s gone insane. She had no idea why they were having this conversation right away. They would not be able to learn the gender of their baby for a few more months. She was just two days short of being 12 weeks pregnant. 

“You like Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath!” he exclaims, his voice rising to a high, raspy tone it gets when he’s frustrated.  

“Not enough to name the baby Ozzy,” she responds, before shovelling another enormous scoop of peanut butter into her mouth. Her ability to consume peanut butter in that manner makes him feel a little repulsed as he watches her. 

“So, what do you suggest we should name him?” He asks with a little more composure and a dash of sarcasm. Eddie was adamant that the baby is a boy. “Dio?”  

She glares at him and slams his words back in his face, “You love Dio!”  

“I do,” he scoffs also using her words agains her, “but not enough to name the baby Dio.”  

“Dio is unique!”  

“And so is Ozzy!”  

“Jesus fucking Christ! Could you two please shut up?” Wayne can be heard yelling at them both from his spot in the living room. 

For a moment, it is silence between the couple until Y/N speaks up again as she moves the jar of peanut butter to the bedside table. “How about James?” 

“From Metallica?” he asks as he takes a seat next to her on their bed.  

She sits on his lap facing him and nods. As he placed his hands on her hips, sliding them up beneath his Hellfire Club shirt that she was wearing, she attempted to ignore the sudden heat that was building up in her lower regions. His rough hands brushed against her delicate skin as he traced his fingertips along her lower back until he reached the tiny, hardly noticeable baby bump. Her voice became huskier as she talks. 

“I know you love their new song. You’ve been learning to pla-”  She pauses to bite her lip to hold back a gasp when he lowers his hand a little. “Play it non-stop sinc-” she moaned softly as his hand slid into the waistband of her underwear. “Jesus Christ,” she exhales, losing all her thought process as Eddie continues to pleasure her with his wonderful, hard-working hands.  

“Nope, only Eddie,” he smirks, pleased that he is the only one capable of making her feel this way. He certainly knew how to take advantage of her pregnancy hormones.  

“Asshole,” she mumbles before crushing her lips against his in a heated kiss to muffle her moans of pleasure. 

Her memory rapidly shifts to a less pleasant one as she recalls what had transpired within the next week and how they confirmed that their son’s name would be James. 

It all began when Chrissy Cunningham, the good girl cheerleader and queen of Hawkins High, went to Eddie to buy drugs from him. Apparently, the weed wasn’t strong enough for her, and she required something stronger than what Eddie would carry his black lunchbox to school. After the basketball game and the conclusion of his latest Dungeons and Dragons campaign, Chrissy had returned to the trailer with him, surprising Y/N who was skimming through a baby book her mother had given her. He asked his girlfriend to help him in finding the Special K that he had somehow misplaced. She scolded him for even thinking to sell the ketamine to the teenage girl who had clearly never done any kind of drug in her life. He made an effort to reassure her that everything would be alright and that he would make sure Chrissy understood how to take it without accidentally overdosing herself.  

When they had emerged from their bedroom after finding the ketamine,  Chrissy had been in a trance-like state, her body was trembling, and her eyes were rolling back as if she were having a seizure. The young couple was horrified by what happened next. Chrissy’s body began to levitate off the ground, her legs and arms snapped in all directions, her jaw was completely dislocated from her skull, and her eyes had been pulled back inside her head as the all the lights around them flickered intensely. Neither of them could fathom what was happening. 

Eddie eventually regained some composure as he grasped Y/N’s hand and rushed outside, ushering her into his van, and sped off into the night, heading to the only location he believed they would be safe. 

After learning that Eddie was wanted for suspicion of murder and kidnapping—his kidnapping victim being his own girlfriend—they managed to stay hidden over the next few days with the aid of Dustin and Lucas, two of the younger members of the Hellfire Club, as well as their friends Max, Steve, Robin, and Nancy. The situation deteriorated even further when they had learned Max had been marked with Vecna’s curse, and survived an attempt to take her life on top of  two other teens being murdered in the same way Chrissy was. They had witnessed the third one while trying to escape Jason and his goon squad.  Ultimately, Eddie had a larger bullseye on his back. He was being pursued by more than just the police. 

Soon, a strategy was developed and put into action. Even if her sole responsibility was to hold a flash light, she was not going to let them or Eddie handle this without her. Eddie had tried to persuade her to sit it out but he eventually caved after Robin and Nancy pleaded for her help. However, he made it clear he wasn’t pleased about it and vowed to ruin everyone’s lives if anything happened to her and their unborn baby. 

She’d been assigned to team up with Eddie and Dustin to distract the demobats. Eddie insisted that she remain inside the upside-down version of the trailer, keeping her near to the sheet-made rope that hung between the two dimensions in case she needed a quick escape if everything went south. 

Up until the demobats began to attack the trailer, everything was going according to plan. Before she realized what was going on, Eddie had left them to go play the hero, and by the time she and Dustin had found him, it was too late. Demobats were surrounding Eddie on the road as he lay bleeding and struggling to stay alive. Dustin attempted to help her in lifting him up, but it was harder to due to his own injuries from coming back through the gate. She couldn’t make out what Eddie and Dustin as she focused on trying to move him. 

It wasn’t until she felt Eddie’s palm cup her face that she became more focused on him than on getting him to stand up. She looks directly into Eddie’s eyes as tears fall down her face.  

“I agree with you,” he tells her.  

“About what?” she wonders.  

“James. It’s a great name” He informs her, wincing slightly from the pain he’s in. “James the Remarkable. He’ll be as courageous and resilient as his mother and as metal as his father.”  

Her chest aches as she lets out a loud sob. “Then he’ll be known as James the Remarkable.” 

“You’re not going to argue with me on this?”  

“Not this time.”  

“I fucking love you so much, sweetheart,” he says, barely above a whisper as he becomes weaker. “And the kid too.” His hand moves to her belly as he looks Dustin. “Look after them for me, yeah?”  

Dustin nods, his own tears streaming down his face as he cries for his friend. 

“Stay with me, alright? We love you too,” she tells him. “You’re leaving this place with us, okay? We’re going to get you out of here and get you help and-”  

“Kiss me,” he says softly cutting her off. She gives him a gentle kiss as he takes his last breath. 

That had been, by far, her worst day ever. The pain she experienced when Eddie passed away in her arms was worse than the actual physical pain she had gone through with childbirth. Due to the overwhelming grief, guilt, and anger she was feeling, everyone had helped in ensuring that she was caring for both herself and the unborn baby. She frequently struggled to get herself to leave her bed. She would lay there crying while wearing Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt and clutching his pillow, they were the two things that smelt most like him. She had to deal with the death of the person she loved more than anyone else, and the accusations against him only made everything worse. 

She had been interrogated by the police numerous times and attempted to convince them that Eddie was innocent of the killings and that he didn’t abduct and abuse her in order to get her pregnant. She made an effort to convey Eddie’s love for her and their child, and of the fact that they found out she was pregnant a month prior to the murders, and that he would never harm or kill anyone. But no one paid her any attention. A few hours after the questioning, s he found spotting on her underwear and had gotten Wayne to take her to the hospital to get checked over. Everything seemed okay aside from the baby becoming stressed because she was stressed, she was put on immediate bedrest until she got better. Wayne, her parents and her friends wouldn’t allow her to spend a day alone, someone was with her at all times of the day.  James was born a month earlier than his due date, but he was in good health and had very few complications. Two weeks after his birth, she was able to bring him home to the new trailer she shared with Eddie’s uncle. She was grateful to the others who stuck around to help her with him. Without them, she didn’t know if she would have made it through those first few months after having him. 

She took James inside after another hour of painting, washed him up, and then put him back with his toys. In order to keep him entertained as she organized the painting supplies, she switched on the TV and played one of his favorite Sesame Street videos. When she was finished, she put them away and went to get James a snack, only to see him sleeping on the couch. She gives her son a tender smile before heading inside their bedroom to get his favorite blankie, that he always uses when it’s nap time. She kisses his head as she leans in and brushes some of his locks away from his eyes. “I love you, kiddo.” 

She gathers his toys and puts them in his toy basket before going into their bedroom to clean that space as well. Her gaze is drawn to a polariod picture of her and Eddie that was placed on her dresser next to a photo of her holding James in the hospital shortly after his birth. She smiles to herself as she picks up the polaroid. It was captured at The Hideout following a performance by Corroded Coffin. Eddie was holding her close to him with his arm around her shoulders. Eddie had a huge grin on his face as Y/N’s was leaned back, laughing at whatever they were looking at off to the side of Gareth who had taken it and given it to them the following day. 

She is still holding the picture as she sits on her bed. She hated that Eddie wasn’t able to be at the birth of their son. She hated that he wasn’t there for Jame’s important first milestones. She hated that he wasn’t around to watch James grow up and teach him how to play the guitar and to play Dungeons & Dragons. She hated that he wasn’t there to help her raise their son. She hated they weren’t able to leave town, get married, and have more kids. She hated that he had died well before his time. She had no clue how she had made it this far without him.  

But James, who reminded her so much of Eddie, was her entire universe and the reason she kept going. From the moment she felt James kick inside her belly, he had become her guiding light in the darkness, reminding her that he was now her main purpose in life and her reason to keep living. In that moment, she made a promise to Eddie that she would love James deeply enough for the both of them, and that he would know just how metal his dad truly was, as well as the sacrifice he made for a town that hated him. 

[nrilliree]

I saw before you said you would happily ask blogs not to bait-tag and could you please please ask @ironthroneconquerors ?? I am so sick of seeing Aemond in the Rhaenyra / Daemon / Daemyra tag. But now I have to look at that completely pointless Rhalicxent photo shoot? Like please ask them to actually tag properly. What is their issue?? I know Daemyra is the most popular thing, no contest. But ur just pissing us all off. Keep your greens off our tag!!!! Im blocking them. So over it.

At the beginning: I apologize to everyone whose question I haven't answered, but I'm having a very, very difficult time right now. I'll try to do it this weekend. I didn't ignore you and I'm sorry for the delay.

I sent this post to this person:

"Can you start tagging your posts properly please? Tags have specific functions. You post tags without any sense and either you do it out of laziness, tagging the first things that come to your mind and don't check them, or you do it on purpose to piss off people who have certain tags blocked, and you show them your posts because of the incorrect tags. What does Deamon and Daemyra have to do with stupid posts about Ameond or Rhaenicent? have blocked these tags and you are the reason these posts appear in our searches. Start tagging posts correctly."

Although I doubt it will help. Some people are resistant.

[the-path-to-redemption]

*starting to watch RWBY* OMG so cool!!! i love RWBY!!! ♪♪＼(^ω^＼)( /^ω^)/♪♪ *screenshot screenshot screenshot* i wonder what the fandom is like... Σ(°ロ°) h-HUH?!!! THE Y2K EMO BOYFRIEND (Adam) IS DEAD???!!!! ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

i love RWBY but i've been checking the fandom tags on here and.... the fans are too scary....(╥﹏╥) makes me scared for the rest of the anime/series too (i'm only halfway season 2!!!). i already saw that Adam is dead and that he's a groomer??? ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) i thought he was an adolescent....

i think i'll just watch as much as i can and not interact with the fandom!!! but i send you anon message because i saw you like Adam and Sun, me too (っ´ω`c)♡ and Adam and the blue hair guy (forgot his name >< sorry), and Adam and Ren, and Adam and the big chainsaw man... i like other ships of course, i only got very very very very worried about Adam because i thought he would be my best boy.... (╥﹏╥)

BTW, your art is really cool, i love your lineart and the way you do eyes (っ´ω`c)♡ your Yang design looks super duper cute and her hair looks so nice and silky ♡ so envious ♡ what shampoo does she use?

let's ship Adam couples together (っ´ω`c)♡ i hope to have time to make materials in the future....

This is such a nice ask! Thank you, anon! I'm very happy that you like my art, that's so sweet <3. And yay! More shippers for the Crimsun enthusiasts, welcomeeee <3!!! I really like the other ships too, though Neptune is one I haven't considered yet :0. Maybe I'll draw my ships on this blog,,,

I'm very sorry that the FNDM is not a good place for you, but I'm glad that you're going to enjoy what you like nonetheless. Please stay safe, anon!

But on more serious matters; unfortunately, yes Adam's character was quite the controversial one after Volume 3, mostly because the writers decided to forgo a lot of his activism in favor of...being an abuser. It's a very gross direction they've taken him, and sadly that turned a lot of people against him. Which is fine! No one has to like him, but there is a lot of racism against him that his haters would engage in that I do not condone, and that racism traces back to how RWBY as a show doesn't care about the racial activism story that they decided to include to write it properly, especially about how Adam's past and character was treated.

And on the matters of him being a groomer, don't worry! Nowhere in any materials involving RWBY states that he's a groomer or any kind of sexual offender. It's just a very nasty thing that Adam haters create to hate him more, and it's very gross and ignorant. His abuse on Blake was an emotional, then physical one, but never has it been sexual. Nor is he a groomer in any other way, since Blake willingly joined up with the WF. We don't even know how old he is! So you thinking he's an adolescent is not incorrect at all. It's a terrible headcanon made by haters who doesn't care about the terrible implications of grooming to approach it respectfully.

You're more than valid for not wanting to interact with the FNDM, anon! And I'm very happy that you still find some enjoyment out of the show, and I hope that you continue to do so safely. Thank you again for such a nice ask!

P.S. Yang uses a lot of hair product gifted to her by family ;3, which is nice because she goes through them very quickly haha. I'll drop more redesigns in the future, so please give me feedback if you'd like! <3

[zestymimblo]

Incorrect Quotes - Tag Game

THANK YOU so so much @surroundedbypearls (you can find her post here!). This looks so fun omg

Rules: use this link to generate character quotes

I'll be using the characters from 'The Strings of Willis Manor' for this game. Please enjoy because this is so funny to me.

===

Clementine: I fell— Andromeda: From heaven? Clementine: No, I literally fell— Andromeda: In love with me the moment you saw me? Clementine: MY ARM IS BROKEN! Andromeda: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

===

Clementine: Thistle got into a fight. Andromeda: That’s bad. Andromeda: Andromeda: Did they win?

===

Thistle: *walks into the kitchen, ignoring everyone* Andromeda: Hey, Thistle, how was your day? Thistle: *picks up an onion and bites into it, staring at Andromeda* Hell. Clementine, watching this unfold: *whispers* Who hurt you?

===

Thistle: So, I've been thinking Andromeda- Andromeda: That's dangerous.

=== these are so fun and quite accurate, so here's two bonus 'Beneath Tattered Flesh' ===

Newt: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Caesar: I will politely decline.

===

Newt: *Locks Caesar in the car.* Act like a child, get treated like a child. Caesar: What? Isn't it illegal to leave a child locked in a car?

===

I had to physically restrain myself from doing more.

Tagging: @imslowlydisintegrating, @olive-riggzey, @trancetales, @the-down-upside-finch and anyone else who wants to play ((please tag me when you do it because these are so funny-))

[ukulelekatie]

Hey I saw on one of your tags that you can read japanese! What did you do to learn it? I've been studying japanese for about 3 weeks now and I'd love to hear about what worked for you :)

Or if your family taught you or its your first language then ignore me lmao

Hi! Just to preface this, I’m not a language teacher and I’m also mostly self-taught, so take all of my advice with a grain of salt.

I’ve been learning on and off for about 10 years using various resources. But I first taught myself to read katakana and hiragana when I was about 13 I think? I don’t remember exactly which website it was, but it had kana charts and played sounds when you clicked each symbol, similar to this one:

I taught myself a few kana at a time by looking at them and listening to the sounds, and most importantly, writing! Writing things down is excellent for committing to memory. I started by writing each one a few times, then I practiced writing things like my name and the very small vocab I had acquired at that time.

Nowadays when I need a refresher on kana, Duolingo’s “Learn the characters” section is actually quite helpful, especially in enforcing the correct stroke order (which I didn’t pay attention to the first time around but I now know is a super important habit to form, especially once you start learning kanji!)

Now for kanji. I’m still learning and know about 150 kanji so far. Duolingo is alright at introducing kanji, but I’ve found that they consistently have issues with playing incorrect audio, so be careful! So far I’ve found that the online resource that works the best for me has been Busuu. Unlike Duolingo’s “immersion” model (don’t get me started), they have individual lessons dedicated to teaching kanji related to the grammar and vocab lessons, which I think is much easier than just memorizing a bunch of kanji and their readings out of context or absorbing by immersion. But again, don’t just use the apps—write everything down when you learn them! The kanji I know best are the ones I’ve actually practiced writing.

I hope these tips help! がんばって！

[queerrocket]

Hi :) sorry to barge in. I promise, I mean this in the gentlest way possible and I am only writing because I initially agreed with you and then changed my mind. - This is about saying in the tags that 'it's-fine-to-skip-nine's url is incorrect.

Because, like obviously, when I first read the url, I disagreed strongly, just like you did. Nine is amazing and their season should be watched and OBVIOUSLY you shouldn't ignore it by starting with series 2 and never going back to it.

But that's not what the url is about. The concerned blog has a pinned post which explains it better than I could, so check that out for context if you like. But the take away is: by now nuwho has become large and long. And people start watching at all different stages. Telling newcomers they have to start with series 1 or that they are fake fans if they haven't watched it, does more harm than good. It might discourage people from getting into the fandom and antagonise them.

And according to the blog and in my opinion, it is completely fair to start with series 5 or series 11 or even series 8 or anything in between. (I actually started simultaneously with series 10 and 3 but that's another story and maybe not the best idea.) As long as you go back eventually and appreciate series 1 and the ninth Doctor.

The url is about allowing people into the fandom at any stage, and not actually saying that the ninth Doctor is worth less or series 1 worse than any other season.

Hence, I just felt like I should defend it's-fine-to-skip-nine because they're lovely. I think there is a lot of truth to the url, if you understand it like it is meant, but I completely get how you would mistake it for something else. I mean, it did happen to me too.

I hope you're not mad at me for this? Because I really love seeing you in my notifications and I enjoy your takes. And also your reaction made me mostly happy. I just think the blog gets a lot of similar messages and I hate to imagine how that feels. I mean, I would not keep a url like that that can easily be misunderstood but I totally get their point and I understand why they want to share the thought.

So I felt like something needed to be said and maybe it's not always them who have to defend it?

(also your icon is gorgeous 😍

Thank you so much for explaining, I’m not at all mad, I love seeing you round too <3.

Honestly I just saw the url and kept scrolling so I appreciate you pointing this out and I completely agree. My own first episode of who was season 8(? I think) and I recently recommended my friend start at season 5 (I just think the eleventh hour is a brilliant ep and a great introduction to the show), because op is definitely right, who has stuck around for so long in large part because it’s constantly renewing itself, you can jump on the train wherever and whenever you like. Which is something that’s pretty bloody important when the shows been around for 60 odd years (and ideally going to be running for another 60 years).

Their intended message is lovely and I’ll dig a little deeper next time before poking fun. Fuck gate keeping and fuck calling people “fake fans”.

It’s entirely lovely of you to defend them and thanks again for the message. (I’m in love with this pfp if I ever change it know that I’ve lost all sense)