#Civilian Recruitment 2023 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flightfoot · 10 months ago

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Best Lovesquare-centric Fics And Series That Completed In 2023

So the majority of fics I read include the Lovesquare in some capacity, but I figured people might appreciate a list of great fics that really center around them, particularly romantically.

As with the other lists like this, these fics all come from my previous reclists for ML fics I really liked that finished during 2023. So if you like these, you might want to look through the collection I set up for all these fics.

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home is where the fight is by @rosie-b

Nadja Chamack’s voice greeted Adrien as he sat up straight, wiping his clammy hands on his pants and ignoring the black kwami floating by his shoulder. “—shocked to see our heroine fall in battle today, taking a direct hit from the akuma just as she detransformed. Parisians are torn between blaming Hawk Moth and Cat Walker for their roles in this tragedy, which ultimately revealed the civilian identity of Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien turned off the TV and lowered his head as his vision blurred. Written for Ladrien June Day 7: Injured

I adore this fic! Which shouldn’t be a a surprise, it’s no secret that I love Sentiadrien Enemies AU. Adrien’s so worried about Marinette getting hurt, and wishes that he could help keep her safer, could tell her what’s really going on or get rid of the ring or something, but he can’t. Still, he IS able to find clever ways around some of his father’s more problematic orders. Loopholes for the win!

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Patrolling with a friend for Christmas by @seasofsilver

Adrien just wanted to gift his Lady some time off and hang out more with Marinette during the festive season - it didn’t exactly go to plan, but somehow ended up… better?

This was adorable! Chat Noir tries to give Ladybug a break by recruiting Multimouse to replace her on patrols for a bit, and Ladybug returns the favor by recruiting Aspik to replace Chat. Yep, it’s Snekmouse!

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Under the Umbrella by @fruitdragon1a

Almost everyone has a soulmate. What are Adrien and Marinette supposed to do when they meet theirs? ML Secret Santa gift for Mei! Merry Christmas! Thank you to Now Loading and Rewan Demontay for beta reading this fic!

So this is a version of soulmarks I haven’t seen before. Around age six, soulmates get a soulmark that shows what their soulmate is thinking when they first meet them. Though I guess it doesn’t register while transformed, since it only counts for this one when Adrien and Marinette meet as civilians, and not when they first meet as superheroes.

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you don’t even know me at all (but I was made for loving you) by @ladyofthenoodle

They didn’t remember each other. The hospital told them there’d been an accident—brain damage—but Alya had told them the truth, later. Who’d they’d been to each other. What they’d given up, and why. But even with their memories of each other gone, Adrien and Marinette are still inextricably tied together—by law, by their social circles, and by their hearts. And in the apartment they share, there’s only one bed.

Yep, it’s the “there was only one bed” trope XD! I especially love how it was used here, how Adrien and Marinette are strangers now but they had a whole life together, and they pine for each other even without remembering, and how Marinette just can’t believe how in love with her Adrien is even though he doesn’t remember her. I loved the emotional turmoil the two of them went through together in the fic, and the resolution, it’s great!

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Until I Found You by @linnieluna

Working their way up to a settled adulthood, Marinette and Adrien, now 23, gain a reason to believe that they are expecting—way earlier than they ever planned. Still unwed, it evokes a revelation on Adrien’s behalf. Was it time to take the next step forward?

I loved the emotions here, how Adrien and Marinette reacted to the results of the pregnancy test, how complicated their feelings about it were - and how it prompted Adrien to take action. It’s a really sweet fic!

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From school bells to wedding bells by @linnieluna

When the superhero duo takes on another exhausting fight against an akuma, Chat Noir does what he never hesitates to do and takes a hit for his partner. The problem being: neither of them knew what power the akuma possessed. That is… until he is transported into the future. More specifically, to his friend Marinette’s wedding.

Ah I love time travel fics! Older!Marinette’s surprised, Younger!Adrien’s bewildered, and Older!Adrien is off knowing exactly what happened and giving his younger self some subtle heads-up.

It gives Adrien something to look forward to, to cling onto, through bad days in the future at least!

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u + me = love by @xiueryn

Marinette has a massive crush on Adrien. He has a crush on the superhero, Ladybug. When he says the only person he’ll invite as his plus one to an event is Ladybug, Marinette takes her chance to romance him for the night. AU. (a fanboy and fangirl start to date.)

This is just a fun Ladrien story. Ladybug is happy to oblige in Adrien’s fantasies, and no one else believes that he’s actually dating Ladybug.

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Miracoffee by @pauliestorylover

Ever since the last Mr Pigeon attack over nine months ago, Hawkmoth has fallen off the face of the earth, seemingly for good. There’s never been a better chance for an identity reveal—but after keeping her identity a secret for so many years, Marinette feels incredibly nervous about one. When Chat Noir accidentally finds Ladybug working at a café, Alya comes up with a brilliant idea. If Ladybug and Chat Noir interact regularly in a civilian setting, surely they’ll move towards an identity reveal without outside interference?

Adrien Never Goes To Public School Coffee Shop AU here! It’s funny how he clocks Marinette as being Ladybug IMMEDIATELY. And then after discussing it for awhile, decide to make a bit of a game of the identity reveal, having Chat come in on pre-determined days and seeing whether Ladybug can figure out who she is, all while they get to know each other, even if in passing.

Love the other Miraculous heroes making cameos as well, Marinette seems annoyed that Nino cosplaying as Carapace actually doesn’t tip anyone off XD.

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For the Sake of a Ring by @rosie-b

An akuma that transfers people’s consciousnesses into other universes hits Ladybug, sending her into a world where everything is the same… but instead of earrings, she’s wearing a ring on one hand! She’s only just arrived in this universe, but already Plagg seems to have gone missing. It’s up to Marinette to figure out what happened before she’s sent back home! This fic takes place in the future, after Season 5, but it does not contain any leaks or major spoilers. Please keep the comment section spoiler-free, too!

This is really cute, Marinette gets transported into a world where she’s married to Adrien and is really confused as to why and how they got married at sixteen. Adrien’s just an adorable puppy who thinks his wife is the most amazing person in the world!

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His Princess and Her Knight by @seas-of-silver

Adrien, Marinette, Nino and Alya have a group assignment about how the past has shaped them into the people they are today, but they’ll make a discovery that’ll send them searching for answers.

This fic is adorable, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino uncover that they all went to the same preschool together, with Adrien and Marinette immediately latching onto each other, Adrien being the knight to Marinette’s princess, and also making friends with Nino. Sadly he was pulled after two weeks, but it made quite an impression on him.

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A Friendship Not Abandoned (Just Delayed) by @nomolosk

Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste first met as tiny little kids, but then Adrien had to move away. When they finally meet again, will they even remember each other, much less become friends again?

Poor Adrien keeps on saying or doing just the wrong thing to give Marinette the impression that he’s a bully like Chloe when he’s not, and he keeps desperately trying to fix it. So a bit of an enemies au in that way, since Marinette doesn’t like him much. He does gradually manage to convince her that he’s a good person though.

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The Mer-Human Race by @rosie-b

Bringing her hand closer to his lips, Adrien tried to plant a kiss on it, but Marinette pulled away before his lips could touch her. “Save it for your girlfriend,” she said teasingly. “Or do you still not have one yet?” Adrien smirked and crossed his arms. “It’s a girl,” he said. “And I know her in real life. That’s all you get. Now, let’s get back to planning, shall we? We have a mermaid to beat.”

Lovely world-building here! Merfolk and humans have had a treaty for a long time, so there’s a tradition where merfolk can challenge humans to a race, and whoever wins gets to ask for a reasonable sort of reward (in Marinette’s case, she wants to be allowed to captain a ship at a younger age than is usually allowed). Alya, Nino, and Adrien are naturally very encouraging towards Marinette, and luckily for her, a nice merman going by the name of Chat Noir shows up and challenges her to a race…

Yeah you can see where this is going XD. It’s fun, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

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A Mousey guest by charliepoet13

Adrien Agreste has finally managed to break away from his father and make his way out into the world. One faithful night, after settling down in his new home, he spots a strange guest.

Adrien X Multimouse fic here! So this is inspired by the Borrowers, with little people the size of mice living amongst ordinary-sized humans, and Marinette got a little careless here XD. But soon finds that Adrien’s friendly and not a threat. It’s adorable and reminds me of the The Littles book series that I read when I was a kid!

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Caught In A Multimouse Trap by @a-flaming-idiot

Adrien was having a rather slow morning. That was until he discovered a tiny superhero trapped in his home and decides to be a bit of a hero even out of his suit.

This was adorable! Adrien does his best to care for the little miniature superhero caught in a mousetrap, bandaging her up as best as he can (thankfully only her tail got caught so it’s more of a phantom pain than an actual injury) and just… it’s really cute.

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do you think I have forgotten about you? by @roseinaugust

Based on the song ‘About You’ by The 1975. Memory Loss. Told in alternating time lines, one leading up to and one dealing with the aftermath of Marinette relinquishing the Miracle Box and the guardianship. Marinette struggles with her life after losing her memory, though there is a persistent voice that calls to her that always seems just out of reach in her memory.

Beautiful memory loss fic here, with seeing Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s relationship before she gave up the Miracle box, juxtaposed with the present day, when Adrien is only a stranger to her. I could really feel how Marinette was struggling with navigating these new circumstances, with her friends seeming to expect her to remember, to be who she was to them, to Adrien especially, before, and her just… not knowing whether she can do that. It’s got a happy ending though, for those who are concerned about that.

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How Marinette Learned to Stop Worrying And Love The Ball by @rosie-b

Hidden from the crowds thronging around the busy fairy portal in Paris’s town square, a fae gate sits at the edge of the forest, locked, rusty, and full of ancient magic. Marinette thinks that this abandoned gate must not work anymore… but one day, a fairy disguised as a black cat steps through it.

Ah, Fantasy Soulmate AUs, my beloved XD. This ain’t the only one of this fic type I’m gonna be recommending. This is just a cute fluff fic without much strife. I love Marinette and Chat Noir being able to be childhood friends via his visits, even if he has to pretend to be her cat whenever he comes over, and I ESPECIALLY adore Alya being his chaperone and quickly becoming friends with Marinette in her own right. It ain’t a complicated plot, but it is a nice and warm fic.

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Stay Weird, Ladybug by @diadraws

Ladybug receives an invitation at the end of a patrol! Contains some of my own headcanons, most notably: MIRACULOUS HOLDERS ARE CREATURES!!! They get actual animal traits when transformed instead of just a costume. My tumblr is diadraws where I elaborate some more on my headcanons which may add some additional context to this fic if you are interested! CONTENT WARNINGS: *major* depictions of panic attacks, discussion of child neglect/abuse, and a minor emetophobia (vomiting) warning towards the end.

I’ve loved the comics and fanart I’ve seen dia create for this AU, with Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s more animalistic designs, so reading a fic set in that AU was a real treat! It’s mostly just a Ladrien sleepover at Adrien’s house, but it’s very nice and cozy, with some good character development of Adrien helping Ladybug with panic attacks she keeps having.

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Our Tales Are Endless (That’s Why I Tell Them) by @joonapeach

Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It’s a life she thinks she has always fit in. And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can’t help but wonder if there’s something else she’s missing.

This was a truly gorgeous story. It’s the classic “Marinette gives up the Miracle Box and loses her memories” storyline, exploring her life two years later. Even though she’s had time to heal and recover, she still feels like she’s missing something, something big. At least Adrien’s stopping by regularly to tell her stories about Ladybug and Chat Noir, even if she doesn’t understand why they resonate with her so well.

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a winter so warm by @rosekasa

winters were hard for even the best of vampires, but at least adrien had marinette to keep him warm with her cuddles. december was going to suck without her. so it was only to be expected to get extra cuddles in before she left, right? (well, not really, considering those heating supplements he was taking, but she didn’t need to know about that).

This one’s mostly just cute cuddly adorableness! It’s basically like all those “Marinette gets the Ladybug trait of needing to cuddle up to someone for warmth”, but with Adrien instead. And of course featuring Marinette being a very talented witch who just wants to help Adrien stay warm when she isn’t there XD.

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The Power of Love by @nedjsmlfavs

In which Ladybug announces that she’s pregnant via her long term boyfriend and Chat Noir is a supportive partner. After all, he can hardly be upset when he’s been dating his Princess for years!

A different take on the show’s tagline (“The Power of Love Always so Strong”) written for Valentine’s day 2023.

This is just a sweet, fluffy fic about Ladybug and Chat Noir finding out they’re having a baby, revealing to each other, getting married, and becoming parents. Gabriel actually tries to do better here, as he does actually care about getting to know his grandchild, and realizes that he can’t undo this timeline without undoing his granddaughter’s existence as well.

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Villainous Matchmaking by @nedjsmlfavs

When Chat Noir is tragically unable to attend an event with Ladybug, the mayor calls in a favor from a designer ‘friend’. Now she’s attending in style, on the arm of the hottest male model in Paris. Which would be fine if it weren’t for one, tiny issue: Paris’ favorite domestic terrorist now knows how Ladybug feels about his son. This leads him to his greatest plan yet, using Ladybug’s extremely obvious crush on Adrien Agreste to akumatize Chat Noir.

A Ladrien/“platonic” Ladynoir fic

This is adorable and hilarious. Gabriel keeps on “accidentally” releasing things which makes it looks like Adrien and Ladybug are a couple in an effort to make Chat Noir jealous, while Adrien and Ladybug ae just over-the-moon about getting to spend time together and finding out that the other person loves them XD.

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Fate, Destiny... A Hamster by @mostmagical

After finally moving into his very first apartment per Ladybug’s suggestion, Adrien discovers something no movie or TV show could have ever prepared him for: someone else's hamster.

Marinette was so excited to have her first pet. If only it would stop escaping!

At least now there’s an excuse to talk to the new neighbor.

(Adrienette Never Met AU)

Funnily enough, this is based on a true story. Specifically, the author’s own experience of having her hamster run out and be found by a neighbor.

Anyway, this is adorable! Marinette and Adrien become smitten with each other extremely quickly, with Marinette’s hamster keeping giving them reasons to talk. Very effective wing-hamster, that one XD.

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Through the Looking Glass by @jheqiawrites

Adrien is a lonely child, cut off from the outside world by his parent's strict rules. But when he discovers a window in his closet and sees a young girl looking back at him like his reflection, maybe he has hope for friendship after all.

Poor Adrien here, he makes a long-time friend (who everyone thinks is an imaginary friend), and has several great years interacting with her as his parents grow more concerned with him not growing out of it... and then Emilie dies, Gabriel orders the window destroyed, Adrien’s put on medication to suppress his “hallucinations” (which also makes him forget Marinette) and he’s just kind of left like that for the next several years, until he’s an adult.

Luckily, while Adrien forgot Marinette, Marinette never forgot him, and he’s not too difficult to track down...

This is some really cute Adrienette, if you want a “forgotten childhood friends-to lovers” Adrienette story, you should check this out!

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Miraculous Conception series by @ladynoirfanao3

Summary of the first story, The Power Of Creation:

Everyone knows that Ladybug's cure fixes everything after the destruction wrought by Shadow Moth's akumatized villains. After an akuma with an unfortunate power leaves Ladybug and Adrien in an awkward position, Marinette has never been happier to simply forget. However, she soon discovers that her miraculous ladybugs have a limitation on their curing ability, a limitation that puts her in a situation she never expected to be in.

So basically, Ladybug and Adrien run into each other just as an akuma makes everyone in the vicinity extremely horny, and when they both start remembering things again, they’re in a pretty... compromising position. But it’s just an akuma so they put it out of their heads, until Marinette discovers she’s pregnant and has to decide what to do about it, whether to keep the pregnancy, tell Adrien she’s Ladybug and is having his baby, what to do with the earrings when she’s too pregnant to be Ladybug, etc.

I really enjoyed it! Just watching Ladybug and Adrien try and navigate the situation, especially with secret identities thrown into the mix.

The main fics in the series are basically the same story, it’s just that the first one is from Marinette’s perspective, while the second one is from Adrien’s. The Power of Creation is rated M while the Power of Destruction is rated E, but for both fics it’s just rated that for a single sex scene that occurs in the fic (with it being the same sex scene in both fics, just told from two different perspectives).

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you made me a hero - reverse crush short stories series by @non-fantasy

This series is just plain fun! Like the title says, it’s a reverse crush AU, so Adrien’s head-over-heels for Marinette, while Ladybug’s smitten with Chat Noir. Which means that Adrien’s constantly trying to woo Marinette while Ladybug’s attempting to have normal conversations with Chat Noir (and failing), and both of them are oblivious to each other’s feelings.

I love the way non-fantasy executes it, with Alya literally carrying around a spray bottle because of how eager Adrien is, and Ladybug being VERY SCARY if you ever lay a finger on Chat Noir (seriously akumas will literally beg for their akumatized object to be broken just to escape her wrath).

Oh, also, Ladybug regularly stops by Adrien’s room so they can both lament how difficult of a time they’re having wooing their crushes, and just have fun together.

There’s a lot of entries in this series - 29 of them in fact - but most of them are pretty short, making it great if you want to devour some quick, cute, hilarious romcom action!

Some stuff does actually change over the course of the series, it’s not just slice-of-life. Like identity reveals, dating, and even Hawkmoth’s defeat, so there’s clear progression and changes in circumstances as well.

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Dreams of You by @chocoluckchipz

Dreams had long been his only escape. Dreams of Ladybug, the girl who had always been there for him.

If only in his dreams. And only while she was also sleeping.

Because with the first rays of sunshine gliding over her skin, with the first fluttering of her eyelashes, from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning, memories of Adrien would vanish from her mind.

She would go on living her life.

He would always be the only one who remembered.

At least until they meet in the real world and fall in love all over again, something that would’ve been easier to do if Adrien wasn't a prisoner in his own home.

Chocoluckchipz has some of the most beautifully executed lovesquare fics I’ve read, and this is no exception. Most of the fic is dedicated to Adrien wooing Marinette, spending time with her, with her own dream self acting as his wingman, giving her tips on how to get her to fall for him, all the while frustrated that she can’t share memories with her waking self, and that she and Adrien can’t share as much information as they’d like while asleep, due to limitations of the “curse” that allows Adrien to share dreams with his soulmate.

It’s not all cute Adrienette fluff though. There’s a threat in the background waiting to erupt, as the weirdness of Gabriel’s ultimatum to Adrien about finding Ladybug or else being forced to marry Lila keeps on gnawing at him - and with good reason. This is a world with magic and kwamis still, and that fact makes itself very relevant in the last third of the story.

It’s a well-written tale and very much worth a read!

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic rec #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #marichat #ladynoir #ladrien

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sweeter-innocence-fics · 1 year ago

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Summer Fic Week 2023 - Day 1: Going Down Swinging

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Work Summary: It's the hottest day of the year, you're exhausted from a mission, and all you want is your bed. Unfortunately, the elevator in Avengers' tower throws a spanner in the works.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5373

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Summer Fics Masterlist.

Taglist: @kittimbo @mcximffs @noz4a2 @rottenstyx @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @lanemarvels @marrigold-2002 @kathrinchek @alternativeprincess @annocaprosmaloka @thrutheburnout @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye

Taglist info.

Notes:

Hello and welcome to my week of summer themed fics! I'll be posting a fic every day for a week.

warnings for unprotected sex, creampie, hate-fucking, pietro is a lech, ankle injury, trapped in an elevator, reader has an IUD, oral (both receiving), reader and pietro are both switches, teasing, sweating, heatwave, teensy bit of angst

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You were exhausted. It was a hundred degrees, and you’d spent the better part of the day fighting some freshly superpowered men on the streets of New York.

Your mission had had two parts: neutralise and bring in the powered people; and retrieve the stolen alien tech they’d used to give themselves the power to manipulate and control energy.

Your foes’ inexperience had been a gift and a curse. On one hand, you outstripped them in every sense: physically, mentally and tactically. On the other, they were unpredictable, with powers barely in their control. That made them very dangerous, especially on the crowded streets of New York City in summertime.

You and the rest of your team – Clint, Natasha, Steve, Wanda and Pietro – had all made it back in one piece. There had been a few civilian injuries but no casualties. Two of the men you’d been fighting, however, had died in the process. Their powers had overcome them and they’d exploded before you could subdue them.

That was the trouble with messing around with alien tech. You never knew what it would do to a human body.

Of course, you had to feel sorry for them. There but for the grace of God…

You had received your powers from dangerous alien tech as well, though through no fault of your own. You had been a junior scientist working for a brilliant xenobiologist, but a lab accident had left him dead and you with the ability to move objects with your mind.

When SHIELD had found you, you’d been out of control and terrified out of your mind. They had brought you in, though, with zero casualties. That you were forever grateful for. You weren’t sure how you could live with yourself otherwise.

You had been an Avenger for several years before a couple more enhanced test subjects had joined the team: the Maximoff twins. Wanda was withdrawn and unsociable, but Pietro was unbearable. He was arrogant, he was cruel and he always found ways to push your buttons.

You were sick to death of Pietro Maximoff, and his pretty eyes, and his toned body, and the way he would leer at you when you stared for half a second too long, because he knew. He always knew.

When you had realised that you would be on a mission with him today, you had groaned, but you knew it made sense. You had experienced being on the other side of this situation. So had the twins. It was also a good opportunity to train up the Maximoffs, who were the newest recruits to the Avengers.

So you had bit your tongue and fought alongside them, and stayed the hell away from Pietro.

Now, as your half-unzipped costume hung from your shoulders, boots in your hands as your bare feet padded across the cool tiled floor, all you wanted was to shower and get into bed.

That wasn’t entirely true. You were hungry too, but too exhausted to even think about eating. You wondered who would be the most likely person to bring you food if you asked. You reckoned that Steve would do it, gentleman that he was.

You were almost home. You stepped into an elevator in Avengers’ tower and hit the button for your floor. The doors were sliding closed when a familiar silver-blue blur shot in between them. You groaned internally as another button lit up, and then Pietro Maximoff was standing next to you, grinning at you with that unbearably boyishly charming smile.

The door closed behind him before you could even think about escape.

“Boy, it’s hot in here,” he said in his smooth, Sokovian accent, and then, without another word, he pulled the shirt of his costume off over his head.

He did it slowly for him, at a normal pace for anyone else, which was how you knew it was for your benefit. If he really wanted to, he could be naked in milliseconds, but he did slowly to put on a show. Your cheeks heated up at the thought, and you looked away from him, but it was too late. You could see him smirking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Can’t you wait until you’re in your room before you start stripping?” you snapped.

He didn’t seem bothered at all by your anger. He never was. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. The elevator began to move, giving you an uncomfortable turn in your stomach that you were sure had nothing to do with the way Pietro was staring at you.

“Come on, prinţesă,” he practically cooed. It was a nickname that he knew you hated.

“I’m not your princessa-”

“Prinţesă,” he corrected. You had once asked him why he called you that, and he’d responded, “because you’re beautiful but you’re such a priss.” You had almost slapped him. Almost.

“I know you’re used to women falling at your feet, Pietro, but I don’t know why you bother with me. It’s never going to happen.”

“We’ll see,” he said in that unbelievably cocky tone. “In the meantime, you’re cute when you’re angry.” He reached out towards you, and you knew what he was going to do because he’d done it before. Before he could ping your bra strap, you slapped his hand away, glaring at him.

“You’re so-”

You were cut off by a horrible screech, and then a mechanical groaning sound. The lights flickered and the elevator came to a sudden, jarring halt, knocking you off balance. You fell back against the wall, and the red emergency lights came on.

“What the-” said Pietro, but you had already gone over to the wall panel hit the emergency call button.

“The elevator is broken, obviously.” The call button crackled. “Hello?” No response. “Hello?” There was a buzzing, and then it sputtered out and the entire panel went dark. “Shit.”

Instinctively, you patted where your pockets should be, but of course, your phone was in your room. Pietro’s suit didn’t have pockets either, and you’d both handed over your earpieces when you’d arrived back after the mission.

“Here, let me try.” He moved past you to get to the panel.

You glared at the side of his face. “All you do is press the button. It’s not like I did it wrong.” He ignored you, jabbing at the button several times in quick succession. “That’s not gonna-”

“Shut up,” he snapped, and you took a step back. Pietro might’ve been an asshole, but he wasn’t usually openly hostile to you. He preferred to annoy you in more subtle ways.

You stared at him. For the first time, you noticed that his hand was shaking. He was nervous.

“There’s a hatch,” you said, not quite apologising (why should you apologise?) but almost making amends. “If you give me a boost up there, I can see if I can climb up to the next floor and get the doors open.”

For once, he didn’t argue with you. He laced his fingers together and let you step into his hand, and, when you were ready, pushed you up towards the ceiling.

You had to put your hand on his head to keep your balance, uncomfortably aware of how close his face was to the vulnerable flesh of your stomach. Not that he would do anything. Still. You managed to pull the lever to open the hatch.

“Higher,” you said, and he grunted in response, lifting you up further. You were glad you couldn’t see him right now. You’d seen him working out in the gym, and exerting himself on the field. The way his muscles flexed always got you a little hot under the collar, and that was the last thing you needed right now.

You managed to grab onto the edge of the hatch and, with Pietro’s help, pushed yourself up onto the top of the elevator.

You stared up into the shaft above you, but it was very dark. You couldn’t see the doors for the floor above. With your hands on the wall, you looked for a ladder, but there was no sign of one.

“Any luck?” Pietro called out to you.

“Can’t see much.”

You did have an idea about how you could see a little more. You couldn’t fly, but with your telekinesis, you could hover a little. Projecting yourself into the air, you tried to get closer to where you thought the door might be. There was only more darkness.

Letting out a frustrated noise, you pushed yourself further up. Your body was trembling with the effort, sweat beading at your brow. High above you, you could make out lights. If that was the inside of the door, then you were a lot further away from it than you thought.

You tried to push yourself a little bit further, just to check if the door was truly what you were seeing, and faltered. As if your slick-sweat body had slid across a surface, your hold on yourself failed and you tumbled out of the air, landing hard on your ankle.

“Fuck.”

Pietro called out your name. He never called you by your name. You felt dazed.

“Are you okay?” he shouted.

“Yeah, I’m…” Your voice had come out high-pitched and wobbly as you choked on the pain in your ankle. You cleared your throat. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t sound okay. Come back down.”

You didn’t fancy trying to climb back down right now. All you wanted to do was stay in one place.

“I’m alright, I’m gonna stay up here for a bit.”

“You can’t stay on top of the elevator!”

You didn’t respond to that. After a few moments, you heard him call out your name again, and when you stayed silent, you heard a grunt, a clang, and then Pietro’s hands appeared at the edge of the hatch.

You were about to lean forward to help him up, but you didn’t have to. He pulled himself up onto the roof of the elevator beside you in an impressive display of upper body strength.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “It sounded like you fell.” It was much darker up here, so you couldn’t see his expression, which unnerved you, because for the first time since you’d known him, he actually sounded sincere.

“I did fall, but it’s okay.”

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“… I landed awkwardly on my ankle.”

He tutted, but for once, it didn’t sound patronising. It sounded worried. “Let me look at it.”

“It’s dark.”

“Well, let me help you back into the elevator, and then look at it.”

“I’m not going back in. We need to get up to the doors.” You pointed vaguely upwards.

You saw Pietro’s silhouette shift as he looked where you were pointing. “There’s no way we’re making it up there. We need to go back in and wait for rescue. Someone will notice the elevator is out eventually.”

You groaned loudly. “I can’t imagine anything worse than being stuck in an elevator with you.”

“Well, you’re not exactly a barrel of laughs either, prinţesă.”

“Stop calling me that!”

He ignored you. “I’m going to climb back in, and then you’re going to lower yourself back down.”

“I’ll fall.”

“I will catch you. Come on.” His tone left no space to argue. He climbed back down into the hatch and landed back inside with a light thump. He was agile, like a cat. You were envious of that right now.

You swung your legs over so you were sitting on the edge of the hatch, your legs dangling into the elevator. You could see Pietro properly now, bathed in the red emergency lighting.

“Come on,” he repeated, holding up his arms. “I’ll catch you.”

“Are you sure?” An edge of nervousness was creeping into your tone.

He chuckled. “I have superspeed, prinţesă. I promise I won’t let you fall. Now drop down. I will catch you.”

He was watching you. That only made you more nervous. You had to close your eyes and shuffle forward. A hand, strong and strangely comforting, grabbed your calf.

“Just a little further, prinţesă.”

Squeezing your lips together, you edged closer. Pietro had a firmer grip on both of your legs now. Putting your life into your hands – or, to be honest, Pietro’s – you shoved yourself off the ledge.

Pietro’s hands let go of your calves and caught you around the waist. You clung to his shoulders as he held you there, feet dangling a foot off the ground.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m going to lay you down, alright? Let’s have a look at your ankle.” Swallowing, you nodded.

Carefully, he lowered you to the ground. You held on tight to him until you were firmly sitting down, at which point you released each other. He hooked his hand under your calf again, gently lifting it up so he could get a closer look.

“It looks a little swollen,” he said. “Maybe you sprained it.”

“Maybe.”

“You should get some ice on it when we get out of here. And maybe see a medic, just in case.”

“… Thanks.”

“Here.” He picked up his shirt, which he had discarded at the corner of the elevator. He bunched it up and then placed it under your ankle. It didn’t do much to elevate it, but at least it cushioned it from the ground.

You leant back against the wall, stomach swirling. Pietro stood up and crossed the room, mirroring your position against the wall opposite. You closed your eyes, trying to think of some way to pass the time when you heard the sound of unzipping.

Your eyes flew open to find Pietro with his trousers halfway down his thighs. He was wearing black boxers underneath, which were sleek and strangely pretty.

“What are you doing?”

“Relax, prinţesă. I’m not going to take my underwear off.”

“Put your pants back on,” you hissed, and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s hot. My costume is too tight. I have no idea how long we’re going to be stuck here. I’ll boil alive if I keep it on.”

You huffed and looked away from him. You had to admit he had a point. It was very hot. You wriggled fully out of the top half of your costume, which had already been hanging off you. You were wearing a vest underneath, so at least you were more modest than Pietro, who was now sitting in his boxers with his costume in his lap. There was no way you were taking off the bottom half, no matter how hot it got in here.

A bead of sweat rolled down your neck, and you felt it heading for your cleavage. You grimaced. You’d kill for a bottle of water right now. And ice. For your ankle and for everywhere else.

You glanced back at Pietro and found him staring at your chest.

“You’re shameless, you know that?” you said, no heat behind your voice. You were too sweaty and exhausted to fight anymore.

“I can’t help myself, prinţesă. You have a great rack. It draws the eye.”

It was one of the cruder Americanisms that he’d picked up since he moved to New York.

“Fuck off, Pietro. I’m not begging to be ogled, unlike you. I mean, you were practically doing a striptease earlier.”

A grin spread across his face. “Did you like it?”

You rolled your eyes. “I was just trying to get back to my room to sleep. I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with…” You gestured at him. “All of this.”

He cocked his head to the side, resting his chin on his palm. “What are you dealing with, prinţesă?”

“You!” you snapped. You shoved yourself onto your knees, your costume flapping around your waist. “I’m so sick of you!” You wobbled to your feet, but thankfully your ankle seemed to be able to support your weight.

As you stalked towards him, you were pretty sure you were actually gonna hit him this time, and from the look on his face, you could tell he thought so too.

“Careful,” he warned, on his feet in a split second. “Your ankle-”

You barrelled into him, grasping his chin with one hand and dragging him down to your level. His eyes went very wide, but you were already kissing him.

Wait.

Kissing him?

You were supposed to be hitting him!

His hands dropped to your waist, smoothing over the fabric of your vest, and you leant into him, letting him take the weight off your ankle.

“You’re so,” kiss, “fucking,” kiss, “annoying,” you muttered, and you felt him smile against your lips. “I hate you,” you snarled, pulling away from him, but he held you in position.

“No, you don’t,” he said fondly.

“You’re, ugh-” Your words stuttered to a halt as he pressed a kiss to the spot below your ear, and then one further down at the column of your throat.

“You seem tense,” he said, sounding smug. “Let me help with that.”

Despite yourself, you pressed against him, and then leant back to look at him suddenly. “Are you hard?”

“Honestly? I’ve had a semi since you took your top off.”

You let out a growl of frustration, pushing him back. That shouldn’t have turned you on nearly as much as it did. You cupped him through his boxers and watched the smug smile disappear. His lips parted and he exhaled hard. That was much better.

“Take these off,” you said.

“Feisty,” he said, but dutifully removed his boxers. He was moderately well-endowed, and the thatch of hair around the base of his cock was brown, not platinum blonde. It was something you had wondered about, on hot lonely nights when he’d pushed your buttons just a little too hard during the day.

You wrapped your hand around his cock and squeezed, watching the expression on his face change. He swore quietly, his hands going to your waist, gripping your vest. You swatted his hands away.

“Lie down.”

He arched an eyebrow at you, but did as he was told. He sat down on the ground in one fluid motion, and then lay back, hands behind his head. He was stupidly, unfairly, annoyingly attractive. You knelt down in front of him.

“Shut up,” you said.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, continue not saying anything.”

He ignored you. “You know I’m completely naked and you’re still wearing most of your clothes. How is that fair?”

You huffed out a mirthless laugh. “Only because you decided toget practically naked before we even got started. How is that my fault?”

He shrugged, which was a slightly awkward motion in the position he was in. “That doesn’t matter. I want to see you.”

Lips pressed tightly together, you pulled off your vest and then your bra in quick succession. His eyes went wide and he reached for you, but again, you pushed him away.

“Hands to yourself.” And then you bent forward and wrapped your lips around his cock. He swore loudly. You supposed that was a good sign.

He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. Pietro was a naturally fidgety person, so they twitched by his sides, trying to find something to hold onto.

You pulled back, letting your cock fall out of his mouth. “What are you doing?”

“You said to keep my hands to myself!”

“Well, this,” you gestured to the motions his hands were making, “is offputting.”

“What do I-” You grabbed both his hands in yours and guided them up to your hair.

“Better?”

He gulped and nodded. You leant forward again and licked a stripe up his cock. His grip tightened, pulling hard enough to hurt, but the pain sent a sizzling sensation through your body.

Still, you wouldn’t let him set the pace, as much as he was trying to. You bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tongue around him. He groaned deeply.

“Prinţesă, maybe you should stop. I’m not gonna last very long if you keep- Fuck.”

You ignored him, continuing to push. Your hand came up to fondle his balls, thumbing over the crease between them. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pulling you off him, but warning.

“I’m gonna- Fuck.”

The hot, salty taste of his cum hit the back of your tongue. You swallowed it, taking pride in the way he whimpered as you sucked him clean.

“Prinţesă, baby, I…” He sounded wrecked. You relinquished your hold on him pulling back and letting him breathe. His eyes were glassy as he stared back at you. “That was… Fuck.”

“You said that already.”

He sat up suddenly, crowding into your space. You were ready to tell him to fuck off again, but then he kissed you, his tongue pressing insistently into your mouth. It was like he was trying to taste himself on you. Maybe he was. He was a narcissist, after all.

When you’d both run out of breath, he pulled back. His cheeks were pink, his eyes bright and shiny with excitement.

“Can I touch you?” He said the words in a low voice that sent tingles down your spine. Here was the flirty, seductive Pietro you knew. You wondered how many women he’d used this voice on. You wondered if it worked every time. It was working on you. You nodded.

His hands were uncharacteristically clumsy as he tugged at your costume, trying to get the bottom half off. You loosened the straps and lifted your hips up so that he could pull them off you.

Now, in just your panties, you were feeling pretty exposed. Sensing your nervousness, he kissed you again. Gentle, insistent hands pushed you until you were lying flat on your back. He moved with you, covering you with his body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured into the skin of your neck. Every breath across your skin left goosebumps in its wake. You trembled, and you were sure he felt it, but for once, he didn’t seem all that smug about it.

You were worried he might try to give you a hickey, but his lips continued to press soft kisses against your skin, persistently kissing and licking, not sucking. You carded your hands through his hair, breathing in time with him.

He moved lower until his mouth found a nipple. You twitched, almost pushing away out of instinct – you were very sensitive – but he held you still with one hand on your shoulder, the other on your hip. His eyes flickered up to yours as he sucked, and his lip quirked up into that annoying (sexy) smirk.

“I was right,” he mused as he nosed his way along the valley between your breasts, lazily looking for your other nipple.

“About what?” Your question came out breathless. He’d just found it and bitten gently down.

“You do have a great rack.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” This time, he said it in a sing-song voice as he travelled further down, laying kisses along your stomach that made your muscles jump. “In fact,” he said, lips grazing over the waistband of your panties. “I think you like me.”

“I do not.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, his lips hovering over your clothed pussy. He was right there, where you wanted him most, but he wasn’t moving anymore. Instead, he was very gently nuzzling at you through the fabric.

You let out a huff of frustration. “Stop teasing me.”

“I’ll stop teasing when you admit you like me.”

You snapped your mouth shut, glaring down at him. He stared back up at you with amusement in his eyes, kissing along your inner thigh. It was torture.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You like it.”

“Fine!” you snapped. “I fucking like it! I like you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

You barely heard his response because your heart was beating so loudly. The blood was rushing in your ears. What were you doing?

“That’s good,” he said, tugging down your panties. “Because I like you too.”

That was all the warning you got before he dove into your pussy. His hands came up, parting your lips so that he could explore your folds with his tongue. The noises that were falling from your lips were frankly embarrassing. You tried to cover your mouth, but Pietro slowed down.

“If you don’t let me hear those god damn moans, I swear I won’t let you cum,” he said. You glared at him, but removed your hands.

He held you down, one hand resting flat against your belly button. His tongue danced over your clit, moving in patterns so fast you couldn’t follow them. It was like his tongue was a vibrator, and you felt a telltale warmth building inside you.

“Pietro!” you moaned, unable to hold back any longer. You grabbed a handful of his hair, holding him as tight to you as you could. You ground down against him, riding your orgasm out on his face.

In the immediate aftermath, you felt too good to be embarrassed. He slid his fingers inside you, filling you with a fresh sensation of pleasure.

“I, uh… Don’t have any condoms,” he said.

You let out a grunt of frustration. “I don’t care.” And then, as an afterthought, “I have an IUD.”

“I get tested regularly.” That made sense. From what you knew, he was a bit of a player.

“I haven’t had sex since my last test.”

“So I can…?”

“Just fuck me, Pietro.”

He hooked a hand under your hip and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. You let out an undignified squeak, which quickly turned into a moan when he pressed against you from behind.

At first, he put just the tip inside you, until you whined and pushed back against him. He slid in further, and you exhaled. It was a strange relief, having him fill you up like that. It was as though, from the moment you’d met, the two of you had been heading for this moment. Now he was inside of you and you were sprawled out underneath him, you felt fuzzy and warm.

As he slid all the way inside you, you leant your forearms on the ground and rested your forehead on your hands. The metal floor was cool against your skin, which was nice because you felt like you were burning up everywhere that Pietro was touching you.

After a moment, you said, “you can move.” He let out a groan of relief.

His movements started slow. He was exceptionally consistent, thrusting in a perfectly even rhythm, hitting just the right spot inside you every time. You wondered if it was practise, or if his powers helped. He certainly had stamina.

“You feel so good, pretty girl,” he murmured, stroking your hip. “So tight around my cock.”

You felt your walls clench involuntarily, which drew a choked out groan from Pietro, making his rhythm falter for the first time. He regained his composure quickly, sliding a hand into your hair as he began to speed up.

Your g-spot was being pummelled, and every thrust pushed the air out of your lungs, forcing you into a gasping rhythm of ‘ah, ah, ah’s.

As his movements grew more desperate, Pietro’s hands were everywhere, lightly scratching down your back, squeezing your breasts, anchoring himself on your hips. When his hand finally found his way down between your legs, you knew it was over for you.

With his fingers on your clit, breast squeezed tight in his other hand, hot breath in your ear, you came with a gasp.

“Shit,” he hissed, and you could tell he was close. You continued to clench around him, even after the aftershocks of your orgasm, trying to push him over the edge. Still, he kept going.

You looked back at him over your shoulder and his eyes met yours, pupils blown with lust. You smiled at him, and he swore under his breath. He clung to you, spilling his cum inside you.

You felt cold as soon as he pulled out of you. There was a gnawing feeling in your gut. Regret. You shouldn’t have done this. He was your coworker. You hated each other.

(No you didn’t)

You rolled over into a sitting position, wincing as you felt his cum dripping out of you. You grabbed your discarded costume and shuffled over to the wall.

Pietro was sitting back on his heels, watching you. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

You shook your head, but you felt tears prickling at your eyes. He leant forwards, putting what was supposed to be a comforting hand on your knee. You flinched. He pulled back like he’d been burnt.

“Was I too rough?” There was an earnest expression in his eyes. “Did I hurt you? Is it your ankle?”

“No,” you said, your voice thick. “It was good.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“We’re still stuck here. What do we do now?”

Pietro was about to answer, but he was interrupted by your stomach rumbling loudly. He regarded you for a moment, and then scooted over to where the trousers of his costume were discarded. He dug around in them for a moment, and then produced a granola bar, which he slid across the floor towards you.

“Here,” he said. “Eat this.

“Where were you hiding that?” you asked, picking it up and unwrapping it.

He grinned at you, boyish charm back in full force. “Secret pocket.”

“You have a secret snack pocket in your suit?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

You knew he wasn’t joking. He had to eat a lot. Something about his metabolism. You had seen him at mealtimes, loading up his plate. It made sense that he kept emergency snacks on him.

Right now, you were very grateful for them. You felt your anxiety draining away as you ate.

“Next time, I’ll buy you a real dinner.”

You paused. “Next time?”

“Yeah. If you want to.”

You opened your mouth, but at that moment, the main lights flickered back on. There was a moment of silence, and then the elevator juddered to life. It was moving upwards again.

You had the sudden, horrifying realisation that you were naked, with Pietro’s cum dripping out of you.

“Shit. Shit shit shit.” You fumbled with your panties, but changed your mind at the last second. Trousers were more important. As you struggled to pull them up, Pietro put his boxers and trousers back on in half a second flat.

Your vision went white. You blinked, and you realised you were wearing your vest. Pietro must’ve put it on you.

Meeting your eyes, he slipped your panties into his pocket. “I’ll be holding onto these.” He winked at you. Your cheeks burned.

DING.

The doors of the elevator opened and you scrambled to your feet. Steve and Sam were standing on the other side of the doors, staring at you both. Steve looked horrified, but Sam looked more amused.

You quickly tucked your bra under the shirt of your costume, which was hanging over your arm.

“Hey guys,” you said, trying to sound casual. “The elevator got stuck.”

“There was a power cut,” said Sam. “But I don’t wanna know what you two got up to in here. I’m taking the other elevator until this one has been thoroughly sterilised.” He turned and walked away. Steve stole one last shocked glance at you, before following him.

You looked at Pietro, and found him looking back at you. Sudden, uncontrollable, laughter bubbled up from your chest. Pietro began to laugh too, which only made you laugh harder. You grabbed onto his arm to keep your balance.

“Did you see Steve’s face?” asked Pietro between gasps, and you doubled over, hands over your stomach.

You laughed until there was no more breath in your lungs.

When you had both finally got over your fit of hysterics, you realised that you were leaning on each other. Instead of stepping away, Pietro leant down, pressing your foreheads together. It was a brief touch. He pulled away and you found yourself wishing he hadn’t.

“Next time?” he asked, a tinge of hope in his voice.

You swallowed. “Next time.”

---

Notes:

Preview of tomorrow's fic: sharing a tent with Steve Harrington.

#pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff smut #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff x y/n #summer fic week 2023

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reds-skull · 8 months ago

Text

Post script on BLOOD||HUNGER

OOOkay, like I said in the ask I got earlier, this post is gonna be LONG. I’ll be covering the poems at the start (and sometimes end) of each chapter, the source of inspiration for them, the timeline of the fic compared to canon, deleted scenes and maybe most importantly the true identity of the Hunter.

I’d like to say before I start rambling that I appreciate each and every one of you that commented, liked and gave kudos! It really means a lot to me, that you’re here reading my silly little stories haha.

I’m gonna start with the beginning - how I started thinking about the main plot of BLOOD||HUNGER.

So, I kept thinking about the Alone mission in mw2 (as we all do), but thinking about “what if Soap was a civilian in Las Almas when it happened?”

(This is slightly inspired by this fic by TRaena, which I read months earlier and kept thinking about its setup because it was so damn good. I highly suggest reading it!)

So originally, I imagined a whole plot where Soap is a football player, having a vacation in Las Almas when Graves suddenly attacks. Ghost is in the 141 like in canon, but he’s the one that gets shot in the shoulder. The two of them meet, and because Ghost is injured, and Soap is stranded alone in a foreign country, they decide to fight together to get out.

In that original plot, Soap continues sticking by Ghost throughout the campaign, creating distractions for Rudy and Ghost while they rescue the vaqueros, and getting kidnapped by Hassan where he gets dangled over a window in Chicago and Ghost saves him. As you can tell I thought about that version quite a bit, but I made one change that moved it in the direction of the actual story I ended up writing.

What if Soap was dishonorably discharged instead?

That trait changed his entire character, from a guy that got dropped into a war where he has no experience fighting, to someone that is bitterly familiar with it, yet he was exiled from participating. And yet it followed him.

Ghost’s character is actually inspired by who I originally thought he was, when I first saw the mw2 campaign.

See, I first watched my friend play it, and he’s been playing cod since the original mw. He built Ghost up for my like he’s this op guy (which he is), and when he said that he’s been doing guerilla warfare for years in Alone, I thought to myself ‘was this guy just running around fighting with scarp, when the British Military just… decide to pick him up and make him a soldier since he was so good at it??’

I didn’t know about any previous campaigns, and obviously not about ‘09 Ghost’s backstory. Straight up thought he was just some weirdo the SAS recruited because they went ‘why the hell not’.

Now, let’s get to the timeline differences between B||H and canon.

So, like mentioned in chapter 5, the reason Soap got dishonorably discharged was because he killed Makarov on the helo when they were exfiling with him, as seen in a mission on mw3. Soap shot him, by the way, because Price and Ghost weren’t on that mission. He didn’t respect his COs enough to not succumb to his gut reactions, so he ignored them. Because mw3 takes place in 2023 (if I remember correctly, since mw2 took place in 2022), that happened in 2019, and I specifically put it before the formation of the 141. When Soap and Gaz meet for the first time, as Ghost reveals his true identity, Soap mentions he didn’t know Gaz was in the 141, and that was the reason.

Price did want Soap on the 141, even with his track of insubordination. It was another reason he felt bad about his discharge.

I put Ghost’s capture by Roba and torture in 2009. He managed to run away and kill Roba in 2010. B||H takes place one year after Soap killed Makarov, meaning it’s 2020, so Ghost has been a mercenary for about a decade (as is mentioned in one line).

Ghost tried initially, like I wrote, to avoid fighting. He didn’t want to return to the military. After discovering his family was killed, however, he realized he has nothing. And so, he became a merc.

Which brings us to the last difference between canon and the fic (and the biggest one) - the Hunter. And to explain the Hunter, I have to first talk about the poems.

I’ll say it straight up, I have no clue what made me come up with the idea of the poems. One day, right before I was going to sleep, I shot up in bed and wrote down one poem. I put my phone down and instantly fell asleep. No idea what was rattling in my brain that night, but in the days afterwards I wrote down a few more poems, establishing the story of the Blind Man and the Beast.

Those poems I wrote in my notes app weren’t written in the same format as the ones in the fic, instead they are more… modern. I didn’t like that, I wanted them to emulate the format of a classic fairy tale or folk tale, but I didn’t really know how to write that. So I started doing research, and I decided to focus specifically on Medieval English poetry.

That is where I found the Exeter Book. And that find shaped the entirety of the fic.

Small history lesson on the Exeter, it is a codex of Middle English poems and riddles from the 10th century. Most of the poems are older than that, but the first (sometimes only) appearance of them written in text was in the 10th century.

The first poem I found a translation for and read was “The Wanderer”. The name just jumped out for me, so I chose it first.

The Wanderer is a poem that is basically a monologue of an exiled knight. His lord and companions have died in a past battle, and he now roams the land, with no goal, pondering the nature of men and war. He starts the poem as a melancholic, frankly depressed man, with pessimistic views on the world, and by the end he is referred to as the wise man, learning the values a man must keep close to his heart in order to be a good man.

Soap, as he is a sort of exiled fighter, fitted right in with that poem. Honestly, I was shocked at how much it fit. And so, he is based on that poem, the first word in the fic “often”, is the first word of “The Wanderer”.

Often, in The Wanderer, means “always”, according to the translation I was going off of. The first line of The Wanderer is “Often the solitary one”. In truth, The Wanderer is always the solitary one. The first line of the first chapter (not in the poem), is “Often was Soap told, “stop trying to be the hero, MacTavish.””. Often here, also meant to be “always”. The first line of the first poem, “Often were the stars, the only witness to me”, is in the same vein.

After reading a few poems, I moved on to the riddles. A lot of them are quite odd, some having innuendos on purpose, and some having such a weird answer I honestly have no idea how anyone found the actual solution. One riddle jumped out for me, though. It’s one I refer to as “the sword riddle”, as the answer is sword. Or at least, so it seems so, at first.

See, this riddle has possibly a different solution, but it is unfinished in the Exeter, as some pages seemed to be missing. The sword riddle starts out as follows: “I’m a wonderful thing shaped for fighting/beautifully dressed, dear to my master.” (sidenote: many riddles were in first person). The first half of the riddle continues similarly, as is a sword was explaining its victories in battle, and how it protracted its master. Except, the poem suddenly shifts, when the sword says:“I have often hurt another/at the hands of his friend. I am far and wide hated, /accursed among weapons.” as the riddle progresses, it becomes clear that this is not a sword talking, but a knight.

This riddle was the basis for Ghost, his struggles with his failure as a Lieutenant, and the resulting dehumanization he did to himself to distance himself from those emotions, as Ghost. The first lines of his introduction chapter, chapter 2, are inspired directly from the sword riddle: “It was an extraordinary thing - shaped for fighting, a strong, solid body, adorned with black…”

You can actually at some chapters find my direct inspiration for that chapter’s poem/s, if you look at the names. Every chapter name in B||H is taken from a poem or riddle in the Exeter, and I’ll list them here:

1 - Wræclast (Path of Exile): The Wanderer, line 6a.

2 - The Death-way: The Seafarer, one specific possible interpretation of a word in line 63, onwælweg.

3 - The Ruin: The Ruin, the poem is in reference to the church Soap and Ghost fight their way out of.

4 - Vainglory: Vainglory.

5 - Hell Rising: a line from “The Descent into Hell”, from a translation I don’t really like, but it’s the only complete one I found.

6 - Droops and Decays: The Wanderer, line 63a.

7 - Wont of Devils: The Whale, towards the end.

8 - Accursed Among Weapons: the sword riddle, line 16.

9 - The Downfall of Kinsmen: The Wanderer, line 7a.

10 - A Secret Disease: The Rhyming Poem, from a specific translation I chose.

11 - The Battle-Sick: Wulf and Eadwacer, again specific translation, this website has a weird format that might be broken, but it kinda makes the poem feel different, and I liked it. [Here's the Wiki for it]

12 - The Bearer of Gold: this one is from a fragmented riddle, one where the answer can’t be determined.

13 - The Song of Us: Wulf and Eadwacer, same translation.

14 - Famous Fate: The Wanderer, 100a. The translation notes this means “turn of events”.

15 - Where All Permanence Rests: The Wanderer, 119a, the last line in the poem.

To properly see all the little tidbits I took from each poem, I’ll have to explain each one, and probably also paste it here so you can read. I would if that hadn't taken five years to do, and I want to talk about other stuff haha. But I just wanted to list the ones I did reference.

So, now that I’ve explained how the poems are referenced in the main fic… what about the poems I wrote?

Obviously, the first poem references The Wanderer, just as the first lines in the fic do. But what is the story of the poems?

Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde, a fictional codex I made for the fic, is a book similar to the Exeter, collecting stories from the 10th century. Except, unlike the Exeter, all the poems in the book tell the story of the same characters: the Blind Man, the Beast, and the hunter (not to be confused with the Hunter, capital H, which refers to the character in the main plot). Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde, by the way, meaning “Blood Starvation” in Middle English. Or, Blood Hunger.

Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde does exist in the world of B||H, Soap, Ghost and the others are simply not familiar with it. I had a plot for the story in the poems I wrote, which is in direct parallel to the main story in the fic. In fact, some poems spoil some plot points, if you go back to read them after you finish the chapter they were in.

Like I mentioned in the ask I got today, I’m not sure how much, if anyone, really understood what’s going on with the poems. I honestly don’t know if it was clear, I never have anyone beta my writing, unfortunately. So, I’m going to explain the story told in the poems, and how it connects to the main plot.

I’ll be explaining the poems in the order they appear (not always the order of the book itself, as noted by the page numbers on each poem).

The Blind Man is a fallen knight (sidenote: the Beast never refers to the Blind Man with that name, and he usually calls him Fallen Knight), who lost his mates and Lord in battle, the same battle that took his eyesight. He roams the earth with no destination, simply mourning what he used to have.

The Beast starts out as a terror on a road leading to a village. The trader that first meets him decides to go to a different road, and the young girl is so afraid of him, she turns back. All the village people fear the Beast, for they know how it terrorized others in the past. The Beast at present, however, is mostly docile.

The Blind Man bumps into the Beast, while he walks on his road. The Blind Man apologizes, explains how he lost his sight in battle, and asks the Beast kindly to move. The Beast does, but he also asks the Blind Man (the Fallen Knight), if he could let him follow, as the Beast too doesn’t have a goal or destination. The Blind Man agrees.

The Trader sees the Blind Man walk with the Beast, and he worries about him, as he thinks the Blind Man didn’t realize he’s walking alongside a Beast. The Blind Man asks the Beast if he plans on hurting him - to which the Beast answers, if the Blind Man finds that the Beast pushes him on a path of death, he asks the Blind Man to kill him.

The Beast, at a later point, asks the Blind Man why isn’t he afraid of him. The Blind Man answers, that he doesn’t believe in monsters, he believes in mankind, to be kind, and cruel. For him, there is not such thing as monsters.

A knight, who once fought besides the Blind Man, spots him alongside the Beast, and he stops them both, threatening the Beast to leave the Blind Man alone. The Blind Man assures the knight, that the Beast is calm, it doesn’t hurt him. The knight asks, how come the blind lead the sinner, and the Blind Man replies, that when all other paths are unavailable, sometimes only the blind can truly lead.

The Blind Man asks the Beast what is his true name. The Beast answers, that Beast is the only name they know. The Blind Man insists that it is only the name the village people call him, and the Beast repeats his answers. It is then that the Blind Man decides he will name the Beast himself, with deeds this time, and not words. He is telling the Beast he can be defined by more than his past, than his looks. The Beast asks how, and the Blind Man answers, with ferocious will to mark yourself with actions yet to come.

At this junction, they meet a man called “the hunter”, who announces that this land is infested with many Beasts, and if one wished to do good in the world, they must kill them. It is why he, the hunter, slays such creatures. He asks how could the Blind Man protect such evil, to which the Blind Man answers, that the Beast is no more different than a man than he is. The hunter accepts the answer, but comes to the conclusion that they’re both Beasts.

One day, the Blind Man asks to see the Beast’s face. The Beast answers, confused, that he thought the Blind Man was, well, blind. The Blind Man says he’s correct, but that his hands have yet to fail him. So the Beast lets the Blind Man feel his face, his hands. The Blind Man then realizes, that the Beast isn’t actually a beast, but a man like him. He tells the Beast as much, but the Beast says that perhaps the Blind Man is also a Beast, if he thinks the Beast is like him.

The Beast asks the Blind Man how could he care for a monster like himself. The Blind Man smiles and says, how could I not?

They come across a village the Beast terrorized in the past, and the villagers come out to curse at him, telling of how the Beast took their children and ruined their crops. The villagers ask how could the Blind Man stand to not kill the Beast. The Blind Man first asks if what the villagers are saying is true, and when the beast confirms, that he was a terrible thing before anyone saw him as more than a monster, the Blind Man understands. He, too, felt like nothing more than a blind man, an injured knight, before the Beast joined his travels, and treated him as more than just his bloody past.

In the next poem, it is revealed that the Beast was once a knight himself, one that slayed friends and foes, as his masters ruled. He was cursed to be seen as a Beast by everyone that casts their eyes upon him, and that he’s damned to be starved of blood and flesh. It is here that the reason the Blind Man recognizes the Beast to be a man becomes clear - because he is blind, he doesn’t cast his eyes on the Beast.

The following poem is a riddle that its answer is “the hunter”. The hunter used to hunt for consumption, but now hunts sinners. He says, only those that know justice will know his name.

The Blind Man asks the Beast, one night right before the sun rises, what he thinks will be his fate, once he dies. The Beast replies that death comes to all equally, knowing the Blind Man’s past. The answer comforts the Blind Man, that his death will be the same death as his fellow knights, and as his companion, the Beast.

The knight returns to warn the Blind Man and the Beast, that he learned what makes someone a Beast. He tells them of knights who were tortured many years, that were labeled “Beast”. Of the young girl, that instead of cursing the Beast blocking her path, only prayed for her safety. Of a man, that fell in battle, and was abandoned by all but death, that he was also labeled “Beast”. This man is implied to be the Beast travelling with the Blind Man. The knight goes on to say that the hunter, who says he’s versed in justice, calls himself a hero. The knight disagrees, says he’s no better than any of them, and that a man like the hunter, who thinks he’s above God, must be sent to the only equalizer, to death itself.

The knight leaves his sword with the Blind Man.

The hunter approaches, and he swings towards the Blind Man, but the Beast slashes his face, blinding the hunter. The Beast tells the Blind Man, that they will fight as equals. The Blind Man, with the Beast’s aid, manages to kill the Hunter.

The village people hear of the hunter’s death, and they come out to investigate. They find the blind Man and the Beast, but now instead of a monster, they see the man that he truly is. Killing the hunter lifted the curse. The Beast, the Cursed Man, however, isn’t extremely happy, because the Blind Man has always seen him as a man, when the rest saw a monster, and that is what he cares about most.

The Blind Man asks the Cursed Man, where would he go now that he is not viewed as a Beast. The Cursed Man answers, that he has no place he belongs to, but by the Blind Man’s side. The Blind Man replies, that then they will travel together, until their death, and perhaps, if God gives them mercy, they will always be together, no matter which path they belong.

Now that I explained the story of the poems, I can start explaining how it connects to B||H.

Each main character in B||H has a direct parallel in the poems, with a few exceptions.

Soap is the Blind Man, a man who is defined by his failure. He is the first one to see the Beast for what he truly is, and consistently compares himself to the Beast. He is the one that kills the hunter.

Ghost is the Beast, later on the Cursed Man. Everyone sees a monster when they look at him, and he himself ended up convinced he is one, after years of being called a Beast. He admires the Blind Man greatly.

Price is the trader (I chose that profession because of his surname), he meets the Beast before the Blind Man. Unlike Price, the trader does not know the Beast before he became a monster.

Gaz is the Knight (because of his relation to Soap and his VA’s surname is literally knight). He threatens the Beast, thinking he means bad for the Blind Man. He also ends up being on the Blind Man and the Beast’s side, giving him his sword so he could kill the hunter.

The village people are the city people in the story. Alma actually accuses Ghost of being the reason their children are dying, just like the village people do in the poems.

Other characters like Laswell and the communicator do not have a parallel character in the poems.

And the last one… The Hunter. He is the hunter, obviously.

Except, he’s literally the hunter. The only character that is exactly the same, and I mean, the same person, is the hunter. The only one whose name is identical to the one in the poems.

And this is the plot twist I was keeping hidden in the poems all along - BLOOD||HUNGER is a fantasy story, only not from Soap or Ghost’s perspective.

There is a third story, beside the main one and the one in the poems. The story of the hunter.

The hunter, after being killed by the Blind Man, finds himself in the future. He doesn’t know how, doesn’t know where, but he knows one thing:

The Beast is alive, he walks with the Blind Man, and he must be killed.

The hunter finds them. And again, he fails.

It’s not known how many times the hunter fails. But each time he’s killed, he wakes up decades into the future, with an innate knowledge that the Beast and the Blind Man are alive, and he has to kill them.

The hunter wakes up again in 2019. He knows the Beast and the Blind Man are alive, and this time, he tries something new. He gathers an army, he hides his face, and he waits for the right moment to strike.

He thought, perhaps if someone else kills the Beast, he could be free from the curse placed upon him centuries ago, by death itself, as punishment for his hubris.

And the events that follow, are the plot of BLOOD||HUNGER. And as you know, the hunter fails yet again. He will wake up again, but Ghost and Soap will be long gone by then.

This is why the Hunter seemingly didn’t exist on paper, a year before B||H. Why he knew so much about Simon, despite the fact it shouldn’t be possible. And this is why he says to Soap what he said to the Blind Man the first time he died. Because, in the Hunter’s eyes, Soap IS the Blind Man. Soap mentions that when the Hunter’s face is uncovered, he seems familiar, and after he dies, he feels like it happened before. Because it did.

The claw marks on the Hunter’s face are the biggest clue that he is the hunter, as the hunter’s face was slashed by the Beast in the poem.

And the Blind Man’s wish, to always walk alongside the Cursed Man, is the reason both Soap and Ghost feel like they belong with each other. They’re destined to meet, no matter what form they take. Whether as enemies, friends or lovers, they will walk the same path eventually.

See, I don’t write stories like BLOOD||HUNGER usually. I write fantasy, sci-fi, supernatural stuff like every other work I posted. But this, the poems, the Hunter, are the reason I wrote BLOOD||HUNGER.

Because it’s not fully set in the real world. Still, this fic was quite a challenge for me, with no magic, enemies-to-lovers (which I never use, I don’t know why I decided to here, but that’s how it ended up), and limited characters.

A little tidbit about the city - it isn’t named on purpose, I wanted it to have more of a vague vibe that fairy tales (and the poems in the Exeter) have. I was also initially considering having the entire fic set at night, one night, but with the amount of things that happen it felt a little ridiculous. Most of it is at night, though, as Soap and Ghost sleep through days more than they do nights.

Also fun fact, the names of the civilians are all names of family members of mine, with the exception of Mihail. The name he’s based on is Mircea, and it’s a little too Romanian for my purposes, so I changed it so something more vaguely Eastern European, which is where the city is.

Now, onto the last section of the post script, the deleted scenes! (Are they really deleted if I keep them, though?)

Like with Not Alive, Nor Dead’s PS, I’ll try to give each of them context and the reason they were cut:

[Context: the entirety of the scene where Ghost gets betrayed and poisoned by the Hunter in chapter 2.]

He didn’t get a potential location for intel, so he started methodically searching all drawers and cabinets, lightly passing over surfaces to search for abnormalities. The longer he goes on finding nothing, the more an icy chill spreads through his gut.

Every cell in his body is screaming something is wrong here.

Footsteps on the lower floor catch his attention. Multiple, heavy, hurried. Ghost snarls.

The soldiers climb the stairs quickly, Ghost melting into the shadows, watching them pass by him. The soldiers are the Hunter’s, their blood-red insignia staining their black gear.

He’s being betrayed again. He needs to get out. He has to get out.

“We know you’re here, Ghost. Change of plan, we need you on another location.” The soldier communicating for the Hunter calls.

No, no, no. They’re lying.

“Commander”, another soldier says, “he might be gone.”

The Hunter doesn’t answer, but frantically, Ghost hears the floorboards creak closer and closer to his location, until a red glove reaches out and pulls him out of the shadows.

He instantly shakes it off, “the fuck are you doing here?!” he growls. The Hunter looks to his communicator, “this target was a ruse, Ghost. We have a new one for you.”

They’re lying. They’re lying. Ghost can feel the barrels of rifles at his back, lifting slowly to strike him down. He can smell the gunpowder and the bite of metal-

Ghost glances behind him. The soldiers are busy searching the house. He nods.

It feels so wrong, but… could he be wrong? Is he just getting paranoid over nothing?

“Give me the location.” he grunts, his back constantly tingling with the weight of phantom gazes.

The soldier walks over to the balcony, pulling out a spotter scope, “your target will be in the central city, the high rise building next to the church.” the building is lit by neon lights, red and foreboding in the darkness of night.

Ghost carefully walks to the balcony, taking the scope from the soldier. He doesn’t put it up to his face, not when there are phantom breaths on his nape.

They’re waiting. They’re watching. They’re going to-

A hand wraps around his neck, roughly pulling his mask up to reveal the pale skin underneath. Ghost grabs it, pushes it away, when a sickly cold sting bites the side of his neck, followed by a disgusting chill that seeps into his bloodstream.

Poison.

Ghost shoves the soldier off, swiftly sliding a knife to his palm and slicing his neck. The man doesn’t have time to react, before Ghost drops down to avoid another attacker. The world explodes with hands reaching for him, weapons slung with purpose to strike.

Not kill. They want him alive.

He has to GET. OUT.

A hostile rushes to tackle him, and Ghost uses the momentum to grab him and jump off the balcony. Glass surrounds them both for a moment, before they all fall down.

The body beneath him crashes with a sickening crunch, and Ghost takes the pistol in his hand to swing around and shoot at his attackers. A few of them fall over the railing, and the resulting confusion is enough for Ghost to take off and run.

Ghost feels the poison corrupt his blood, physically sense the way it travels down his neck, the chill spreading to his fingertips. He mutters a few curses.

He should’ve listened to himself. Never trust anything but himself.

[Reason to cut: I didn’t want Ghost to suspect anything before the Hunter attacks, I thought it would be scarier than if he anticipated it.]

[Context: the last lines of chapter 2 (can you tell I struggled with that one lol)]

Ghost internally sighs. This whole ordeal drudges up too many old memories, things he rather would’ve stayed buried in an unmarked grave. But he just has to put up with Soap until they leave the city.

And after that? He can leave him to the wolves.

[Reason to cut: Ghost sounds here like he wants something bad to happen to Soap when he leaves him. I wanted him to just not care about what happens to him.]

[Context: the talk Ghost and Soap have in chapter 6, when Soap reveals he killed Makarov.]

The Sergeant laughs bitterly, “he was already captured. I slit his fuckin’ throat when his hands were cuffed.”

“Really?” Ghost drawls, “as if bars would’ve stopped Makarov.”

Soap bristles, “so what, yer saying I was right?”

“You were the only one with half a brain there, it seems.”

Soap is visibly stunned at that, quieting down and averting his gaze. Did he really believe that he shouldn’t have done that? Shouldn’t have killed the worst man in modern times?

Really thought those restraints were made for the betterment of humanity, rather the benefit of the powerful few?

They continue walking in silence, the only sound accompanying their steps is the bristling of crops.

[Reason to cut: didn’t like how the dialogue sounded, wanted the conversation to be longer.]

[Context: the first time Ghost called Soap “Johnny”, chapter 7.]

Soap has a feeling the nickname just slipped, and he didn’t mean to call him ‘Johnny’. His mind, as it often does, starts mulling that small detail over.

If it was a slip of the tongue, it means this wasn’t the first time Ghost thought to call him that. How long have he thought of him as “Johnny”? Does that mean, under that bleached bone, he

[Reason to cut: didn’t like where Soap’s thoughts were going. Didn’t know what to do with them.]

[context: beginning of chapter 8, when Ghost’s real identity is revealed.]

(From the grave rises someone else, someone wrong-)

Soap takes a step back, the sound echoing through his mind and returning him to the surface-

(They know. The communicator. The Hunter.)

Johnny knows.

[Reason to cut: I liked the first line, but I wanted it to be memories of Simon’s rather than introspection of Ghost.]

[Context: start of chapter 8 again. It’s always the Ghost POV ones I struggle with huh?]

“Didn’t you,

Simon Riley?”

Ghost ceases his attempts to move. Thoughts slipping away from him, sinking down to the dark sea, drowning him.

(Don’t cry like a pansy, son. Just like your mother, you’ve always been weak-)

(You always had a bleeding heart, Riley. Time you wake up, see how the world really works-)

(The rotten flesh, the maggots borrowing into his ears, the dirt and grit between his teeth-)

(Lieutenant Riley was his most caring soldier-)

(What’s wrong, son?-)

(LT-)

(SIMON-)

Ghost feels him claw out, from the fortified casket he buried him in. Memories as his weapon, he rips through his chest, uncaring of the trails of broken bone and blood he leaves behind, splattering on the floor.

From the grave, a dead man rises. A man who always found the world too cruel, too loud, too unforgiving.

And with him, emotions Ghost long buried; Hurt, sadness, confusion. Fear.

Rage.

The knife in his sleeve slides easily to his palm, cool metal doing nothing to soothe Simon. He winds his hand back, and throws.

The blade shines almost blindingly across the room, missing Johnny by less than an inch and hitting the gleeful communicator in his eye. The man slumps over, smile melting away with the last of his life.

Simon heaves a breath, arm still forward, eyes snapping from the corpse to Johnny.

Johnny, who turns around, shock in his bright blue eyes, mumbling, “What… the fuck… did you do?”

He can’t look at those eyes again, can’t see the betrayal cloud them over, the pain he caused, always causes, spread through him. And so Simon, the coward he is, looks away.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Johnny repeats, stomping forward to haul Simon up by his vest. “LOOK AT ME! YOU JUST KILLED OUR ONLY WAY TO THE HUNTER!”

Johnny’s hands are trembling, Simon notes, when they take hold of his face to force him to make eye contact. Simon watches Soap’s expression falter.

What do you see, he wants to ask.

Do you see the man he was, Or the monster he became?

The clanking of the metal staircase behind them makes Soap sharply turn. Simon can’t see, doesn’t care to when Johnny is in front of him.

Tell me, he wants to scream, tell me I’m irredeemable. Tell me you hate me. Bury me, please.

I can’t be Simon again.

But Johnny ignores his silent pleas, grabbing his forgotten rifle and throwing it to Simon. With a dirty glance, he growls, “don’t think I’m lettin’ it slide. Get up, we need to fight.”

And Simon would’ve stayed in the tower, waiting death to take him for the final time, if he could stomach the idea of taking Johnny down with him. Simon, stupid, foolish Simon, wants the Sergeant to do what he couldn’t. To be better than him.

He takes the rifle, military instilled instincts helping him push up and take aim. Johnny is already ahead, fighting his way down the stairs.

The world outside is loud, gunshots and screams, bullets dinging off metal, blood dripping down to the earth below. Soap shoots them as the come up, but he’s quickly getting overrun. Simon spots a pile of crates right at the edge, where Johnny is currently taking cover.

He runs at it at full speed, shouldering it and pushing it down. Johnny curses at him, before he watches how the heavy crates clear them a path down. The soldiers groan, struggling to get up. They run down, barely avoiding the hands grasping at their feet. Below, soldiers attempt to shoot them, but they make an almost impossible target on the spiraling steps.

Simon jumps the last few, firing at the group around their truck to cover Johnny. The Sergeant shouts at him something, but he’s too focused on the enemies aiming at them.

A few bullets hit him square in the chest, knocking the breath out of Simon.

He doesn’t get time to recover when another bullet pierces through his shoulder.

It hurts more, oddly enough, after Simon clawed his way out. Everything feels… more.

Johnny takes out the shooter, and drags Simon to the truck. Throwing him to the passenger sit, he starts up the engine and shifts it to reverse to run down a few hostiles.

“Yer not gonna die on me, are ye?” He grunts, examining the blood sluggishly flowing down his gear.

Simon opens his mouth to answer, as he sees from his peripheral a wounded soldier shakily lifting his gun to aim at Johnny.

He pulls out a knife to throw at him before Soap can even clock the danger, the soldier crumpling back down in a blink. “...Thanks.” Soap’s eyes narrow. His eyes are no less bright for it, Simon reckons.

He returns to his sit, applying pressure to his gunshot wound, “drive.”

In the silence, Simon’s mind drifts. He’s finding it harder and harder to focus on anything besides Johnny.

[Reason to cut: a few things here are the same as the final version, but I specifically didn’t like how Soap acted here, and the fight Ghost soloed.]

[Context: chapter 10, after Soap bit a guy, and Ghost lost control of his limbs because of the poison again.]

The pain doesn’t even register in Ghost’s mind anymore. Nothing does, except Johnny’s form, sure-footed as he rushes back to battle, mouth still red.

Johnny is a disaster. An omen of ruin. A harbinger of death.

Simon wants to be destroyed by him.

If only to feel that searing touch once more.

[Reason to cut: Ghost is a little too in love with Soap with the way he’s talking here. Didn’t want that yet.]

[Context: chapter 11, the very end of it, where they realize who could find the Hunter.]

Soap inhales sharply. That’s it!

“Simon.” Dark eyes look up at his urgent tone, “I know how we can get to the Hunter.”

Gone is the softness in his eyes, Ghost turns to face him fully

[Reason to cut: wanted Ghost to come to that conclusion, not Soap. Thought it would be more impactful, if Simon chooses that fate on himself.]

[context: chapter 12, when Ghost and Soap explain to Price and Gaz that the Hunter is responsible for everything that happened in the city, not Ghost.]

“The Hunter?” the name makes Gaz falter, “who-”

Ghost cuts him off, “who do you think is in charge of this militia, Lieutenant?” he says the rank mockingly.

The Lieutenant fires back, “according to our intel, you!”

Soap shakes his head in disbelief, he and Ghost sharing a baffled look, “yer tellin’ me ye never heard of the Hunter?!”

This complicates everything. Ghost himself knew of the Hunter because of his line of work, and he was aware their existence was a closely guarded secret, but for the 141 to not even know of them…

It’s like they popped out of nowhere, a special hell designed for Ghost.

It does clear out one thing. The reason they wanted to pin the massacre of the city on him, leave him poisoned to rot until the 141 catches him. If the SAS believes they took down the militia, the Hunter would be free to do anything they wanted, under the radar.

Cut the head off the snake, it dies. Unless you cut the wrong head.

“You’re telling me”, Price starts, “that we’re after the wrong person?”

Soap sighs, “Ghost may not be a bleedin’ saint, but he’s not the leader of the fuckers shootin’ everyone out there.”

Gaz scoffs, “John, you know I’ll fucking take a bullet for you, but I won’t be able to believe that without some solid proof.”

Price joins him, “even if there is another individual… “The Hunter”, you called him?” he realigns his gun with Ghost, “we still need to take Ghost into custody.”

Soap bodily pushes Ghost behind him, again, “if you want ever want to catch the Hunter, you’ll need him! We’re not gonna-!”

[Reason to cut: Okay, I did a little mistake and completely forgot that Gaz and Price brought up the Hunter by name before, therefore they know of their existence. Had to cut a few pages because of that, as you can see…]

[Context: chapter 12, after Ghost falls because of the poison, still discussing the Hunter.]

Price holds it still, “Laswell said local police reported of a skull-masked man.”

“I haven’t seen a single police officer in the entire city.” Soap says slowly, “fuck- how did we miss that?”

“This city…” Gaz’s brows lift in shock.

Simon grunts, “the Hunter’s soldiers took over before I ever stepped foot here.”

[Reason to cut: didn’t like this explanation, didn’t feel like it made sense to me. The final version uses the informant instead, which ties in with the man Ghost kills for the Hunter in chapter 2, and I like that way better.]

[Context: chapter 13, when Soap and Gaz talk while he’s smoking.]

“John, mate. C’mon.” Kyle places a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper, “tell me, what are you going to do after?”

“After what?”

“After you kill the Hunter. Are you going to leave back for Scotland, never see Ghost again, go back to your civilian life? Or…” Gaz nods towards Simon, “you’re going to stick with him?”

Oh… He didn’t even think about that. ‘After’... Soap swallows around the excitement the second option rises within him, “yer jokin’, right? I don’t- that’s not even a choice. What am I gonna do with Ghost?”

[Reason to cut: didn’t like how I phrased things here, felt like I could do it better.]

[Context: chapter 14, right before the operation to kill the Hunter begins]

It strikes him then, how much he wished they could’ve met on different circumstances. Perhaps if they knew each other before, they could’ve been more.

Perhaps he wouldn’t feel as doomed.

[Reason to cut: just didn’t really like it, it kinda introduces new feelings that I didn’t have time to explore in the last chapter before the epilogue.]

EDIT: I FORGOT TO PUT THE POEM AAA SHIT

Page ?? of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable ?:

What drives a monster from the woods, the merchant questions,

As evil often lies within the dark, feasting on sin and vice,

What drives a man from his home, the Beast replies,

As he is nothing, when his steps sound alone,

What drives a knight from his kin, the Blind man finishes,

As a vow cannot be fulfilled, when it is voiced to the dead.

[The only reason I didn't put it in is because there wasn't a good point to, sicne I wrote it when the fic was already ending]

And that’s it! Another fic done!!! I had a lot of fun, I think you can tell haha. I also feel like I improved a lot compared to Not Alive, Nor Dead, I love seeing the progress. Thank you, if you read this monster of a post script, and for reading BLOOD||HUNGER.

As a little thanks… I will probably talk about it more later, but I am planning on beginning work on Revenant AU part 2 after I finish my semester. It will involve new villains, new Revenants, new Reapers… I’m excited to be able to return to that universe again!

#BLOOD||HUNGER #not tagging everything bc this is a post script #fellas Ill be honest its like 2 am #if there are any mistakes pls tell me Im very tired and I dont think i got all braincells working rn lmao #edit i did forget. I forgot to put the cut poem. its here now

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mariacallous · 1 month ago

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As Russia presses forward with its offensive in Ukraine, mounting casualties on the battlefield have forced the Defense Ministry to intensify recruitment efforts. Alongside raising sign-on bonuses for new contract soldiers, officials are using increasingly aggressive tactics, including manipulation and coercion: intimidating 18-year-old conscripts, posting fake job ads, and pressuring people under criminal investigation to sign contracts. The independent outlet Holod spoke with human rights advocates to uncover the extreme lengths the Russian authorities are going to replenish the army’s ranks. Meduza shares a summary of their main findings.

Over nearly three years of war, at least 77,000 Russian soldiers have died fighting in Ukraine, based on a list of confirmed casualties compiled by Mediazona and the BBC. Meduza’s analysis of inheritance case data suggests the true number could exceed 120,000. The number of wounded may be up to three times higher, taking an additional 360,000 soldiers off the battlefield. Even these figures likely understate the scale of Russia’s losses, given the government’s continued secrecy around casualty data.

To sustain their offensive in Ukraine, Russian officials have had to aggressively and continuously recruit more troops. According to Western intelligence agencies, by spring 2024, Russia was losing up to 1,000 soldiers per day, or roughly 30,000 per month. U.S. officials believe Russia is enlisting between 25,000 and 30,000 contract soldiers monthly to offset these losses.

Ruslan Leviev, founder of the independent investigative group Conflict Intelligence Team, thinks these figures are accurate. He points to Russia’s rapid advances on the battlefield as indirect proof of the recruitment rate. “Maybe it’s 25,000, maybe it’s 35,000,” Leviev said, adding that it’s difficult to give a precise estimate but “the tempo is undeniably high.”

Still, as the war grinds on, recruiting new volunteers has become increasingly difficult. Ivan Chuvilyaev of Get Lost, an organization assisting Russian deserters, noted that voluntary sign-ups had nearly dried up by late 2023. Sergey Krivenko, head of the human rights group Citizen. Army. Law., echoed this, saying that recent mobilization efforts revealed how few Russians are willing to volunteer.

The recruitment struggle is evident in the ever-increasing sign-on bonuses offered by both federal and regional authorities. But even more concerning are reports of heavy-handed recruitment tactics, including manipulation and psychological and administrative pressure.

Before 2023, recruitment efforts were less aggressive, Chuvilyaev explained, as Wagner Group mercenaries were filling the front lines by recruiting prisoners. But after Wagner Group founder Yevgeny Prigozhin’s ill-fated mutiny and subsequent fall from grace (and later, the sky), the Defense Ministry ramped up its efforts with underhanded tactics like fake job ads and police coercion. Chuvilyaev warns that these methods are likely to become even more sophisticated as the war continues, with the ministry constantly evolving its strategies to meet recruitment demands.

Bait-and-switch

When one St. Petersburg man who’d applied for an engineering job googled the address for his interview, he discovered it was a military base. This is a common tactic, says Ivan Chuvilyaev from Get Lost. Had the man gone to the interview, recruiters would’ve assured him that the job involved only drone production and had nothing to do with combat. But if he signed any paperwork, he’d have been deployed straight to the front.

“I trusted them,” said another man, who’d been promised a civilian construction job by local authorities. When he arrived for the interview, he was met by a military official who insisted he’d be working on infrastructure projects, with no risk of deployment. “And I fell for it,” he said, explaining how the official seemed credible and rushed him to sign before the end of the workday. It wasn’t until he was taken to a military training ground that he realized he’d been tricked into combat service.

Recruitment has grown more subversive as the conflict drags on, said Sergey Krivenko from Citizen. Army. Law. Krivenko described cases where company employees were asked to sign military contracts supposedly just to show their bosses, with assurances that they could be annulled later. In reality, however, contracts with the Defense Ministry are essentially indefinite — and the signatories have no say over where or how they serve. Most end up as front-line fighters, regardless of what they were promised.

Former prisoners are also being targeted. Fyodor Sorokin (name changed) told Holod that after serving time for drug possession, he received a WhatsApp message notifying him of new charges. He was instructed to turn himself in to the police, but the address led to a military enlistment office. Sorokin ignored the summons, but the authorities tracked him down and arrested him. “They gave me a choice: ‘Either you sign the contract now, or a bag of drugs will end up in your pocket,’” Sorokin said. He signed.

Regional employment centers are also involved in illegal recruitment practices. Krivenko recounted how a man in Novosibirsk, registered as unemployed, was offered a job as an infantryman. He emphasized that these centers have no legal authority to direct people to enlistment offices, and those who receive such referrals aren’t obligated to report. Additionally, Krivenko noted that many recruits, misled and manipulated, would’ve never signed up if they’d known they’d be sent straight to the front lines.

False promises

Before 2023, Wagner Group largely handled the recruitment of prisoners for the war effort. Later, the Defense Ministry took over. In spring 2024, a new law expanded eligibility, allowing individuals charged with crimes to enlist, suspending their trials, and lifting pre-trial restrictions if they signed a military contract. In October, this was broadened to include defendants whose trials were already underway, meaning accused individuals could be sent directly to the front from pre-trial detention or house arrest.

Ivan Chuvilyaev described the scale of this system: “When I speak with deserters who are former prisoners, I always ask how many people from their correctional facility were sent to the front. They tell me it was anywhere from 50 to 75, and such groups are leaving almost every prison regularly.” Now, he said, recruitment has even extended to those merely under investigation — potentially affecting anyone, even someone arrested over a planted packet of drugs.

Many recruits are verbally promised freedom after a year of service, Chuvilyaev said, and reassured that prosecutors will push for their cases to be dropped in exchange for fighting on the front lines. Legally, however, expunging a criminal record remains extremely difficult and requires meeting strict criteria. And leaving military service is nearly impossible, even for those with severe injuries.

‘They threatened him’

To fill the army’s ranks, the Russian authorities have been pressuring conscripts to sign up for contract service during their 12-month mandatory military duty. Human rights advocates report that conscripts are told contract service is more lucrative, promised non-combat roles, or warned that mobilization is inevitable, so they might as well sign up now and earn money. Some are assured that contracts can be short-term or that signing will allow them to stay at their current unit. Those who refuse, however, are often threatened with deployment to combat zones — despite official claims that non-mobilized conscripts only serve “outside the conflict zone.”

In some cases, conscripts have been threatened with criminal charges if they don’t sign. Lacking legal knowledge and cut off from their families, many are vulnerable to these tactics. One mother told “Citizen. Army. Rights” that her son called her in tears, saying he never planned to volunteer. “They threatened him with five to seven years in prison if he didn’t sign,” she said. “Now, they’re saying he’ll take the oath immediately, head to a training ground, and be sent to an assault unit in three months.”

In early November, three conscripts from Russia’s Chelyabinsk region reported being intimidated a month into their mandatory service. Their parents recounted how they were threatened with deployment to Belgorod and warned it would be a death sentence. One mother said the young men were told they’d come back in “body bags” if they didn’t sign, and were subjected to graphic descriptions of how their mothers would see them “torn apart and dismembered.”

Human rights advocates say these coercive tactics are now widespread. Previously, conscripts needed to complete higher education or serve at least three months before signing contracts. Since spring 2023, however, even recent high school graduates can be recruited immediately. Promises of easier service or specific assignments rarely hold up — once a contract is signed, recruits are considered volunteers for the duration of the war and can be sent anywhere, including the front lines.

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