#He��s not even supposed to lead the squad

[helenabuu32]

We had a little thunderstorm the other night so this hc idea popped up in my head!

Bucci squad with a stand user S/O or crush who’s afraid of thunderstorms

In this situation, s/o or crush does actually like light storms, but when they’re so strong that the power goes out and the house is shaking, it gives them a lot of anxiety

Bucciarati:

Doesn’t even hesitate for a second or care that he thought you liked storms. The moment he sees you in distress, he goes protect mode

He’ll wrap you up in the biggest, fluffiest blanket he can possibly find and sit beside you on the couch until the storm is over, he doesn’t care how long it takes or if he’s up all night

If it’s dark outside and the power goes out, he’ll light some candles to make you feel a bit better

He’ll keep asking every 5-10 minutes how you’re doing and if there’s anything else he can do to make you feel better. Need water? Snacks? Want him to read to you or play a board game with you? Just say the word, he’s on it.

Jokes that he can zipper open a pocket for you guys to sit in to get away from the noise. If you say yes, he’s actually willing to do it.

If you’re really freaking out, he’ll sit close to you on one side and get Sticky Fingers to sit close on your other so you feel more protected

If you’re dating, he already knows about this fear and actually keeps track of when there’s supposed to be really bad storms. He’ll make sure to have your favourite snacks and drinks stocked up for the occasion, take you upstairs to his room and get under the covers with you and just hold you until the storm is over

Mista:

He’s confused at first because he thought you liked storms! When you explain that you do, but sometimes they get too loud for you, he’s really understanding.

He’ll bring Sex Pistols out to comfort you and tells you “wait there, I’ll be back soon!”

When he comes back to get you, he’ll grab your hand and lead you to the living room. He had just spent the last 10 minutes making a blanket fort filled with any battery powered light he could find and a stack of drinks and snacks

He’ll sit in there with you and talk about anything and everything to try to distract you through the storm. His stand will stay out so it feels like you’re all just hanging out and having a good time!

If you’re dating, like Bruno, he’ll prep if he knows there’s supposed to be a bad storm. He’ll set the fort up in his room with all those fairy lights you like and even set up a portable DVD player and just make a day of it. You guys hang out in the fort all day leading up to the storm, sometimes the Pistols come out for a bit too. Once the storm starts, he’ll put his stand away and just hold you and continue to talk you through the storm. You guys usually fall asleep in the fort.

Abbacchio:

Wtf he thought you loved storms??? You never shut up about how much you love the rain

Once you tell him it’s just when they’re super loud like this, he kinda gets it, but will still tease/make fun of you

When he sees that you’re actually in a lot of distress he’ll feel bad and throw a blanket around your shoulders and place his headphones over your ears. He’ll hand you his music player and let you choose some music you like and just sit on the opposite end of the couch to make sure you’re okay

If you’re dating, he won’t prep for storms, but he’ll wait them out and knows the second they start getting too loud for you. He’ll grab your hand and a bottle of water, take you upstairs to his room and just lay next to you/hold you while you listen to music with his headphones. He knows all your favourite bands and songs and actually put together a playlist specifically for this situation that is several hours long so you two can just lay next to each other and maybe even fall asleep

He bought a few battery powered lanterns after the first time the power went out during a storm and you screamed. So he keeps them around his room and turns them on for you as soon as that happens

Also keeps a stash of snacks in his room in his bedside table so if you get hungry or want anything he doesn’t have to leave you alone durning the storm

Narancia:

He’s also very confused because what the heck he thought you loved storms???

He doesn’t make fun of you, but he just doesn’t really understand. The moment he sees how upset it’s making you he tries his best to make you feel better!

He’ll start talking about anything he can think of to try and distract you. He’ll even start making up these elaborate fantasy stories!

If that doesn’t seem to be working, he’ll grab his boombox and a bunch of lights and just have a little rave with you in the living room to get your mind off the storm! Who can be scared when they’re dancing???

Narancia always has a HUGE stash of the best snacks and he’s happy to share them with you to make you feel better

If you’re dating, he’s a little oblivious and usually won’t notice a storm is getting too much for you until he sees you cowering under a blanket, but he will drop everything he’s doing to comfort you once that happens

He bought one of those cool starlight projectors and even found a music player with multiple headphone jacks so you guys can rock out to the same music and drown out the thunder while his arms are around you

Fugo:

He’s confused and doesn’t get it. Logically, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just a storm and it can’t hurt you from inside the house, and he also recalls you saying you enjoyed storms.

When he sees how much you’re freaking out he kinda panics and doesn’t know what to do. But he still wants to help.

He’ll ask you straight up if there’s anything he can do to make you feel better. Want water? He’ll go get it. Need a snack? Just tell him what kind.

He won’t make up stories like Narancia, but if you ask him to just sit and talk you through it, he’ll get flustered and just start spitting out random facts. About animals, space, history…anything to distract you (and himself tbh).

If you’re dating, he’s taken note of the things that make you feel better during storms. He’ll charge his portable dvd player all day until the storm starts so you guys can watch documentaries and shows about all the different things that interest you. He also makes sure to go out and buy snacks and drinks that you like if he knows there’s gonna be a bad storm in the next few days

He bought you a weighted blanket and will drape it over you while he holds your hand snd waits for the strom to calm down

Giorno:

While he’s not afraid of storms anymore, he does understand. He remembers being so young and alone and having nobody to go to during bad thunderstorms. It was really scary.

He doesn’t care that you usually like storms, he can see why it would be different when it gets this intense

He’ll light some candles/turn a lantern on, give you a blanket and just sit with you. If you wanna talk, he’ll find things to talk about, but he doesn’t mind just being silent company if you prefer that.

If you like animals, he’ll turn a pillow into a dog/cat (whichever you prefer) so you have a snuggle buddy to calm you down.

Every once in a while he’ll ask how you’re doing and if you need him to get anything for you, he’s happy to do so.

If you guys are dating, he’ll bring you up to your room once the strom starts, even if it’s not too loud for you yet. He’ll use Gold Experience to turn something into your storm buddy and just lay with the two of you and stroke your hair to calm you down until the storm is either over or you fall asleep

Trish:

Confused at first but also gets it because she can be jumpy with severe storms as well!

Her fear is definitely not as strong as yours, so she does her best to try to help you through them

She’ll take you up to her room with some snacks and get out a stack of magazines for you guys to read. She has a lot of pillows and blankets and fairy lights so her room is really cozy!

Need a big stuffed animal to cuddle with? Trish has ya covered

If you guys are dating, she’ll put together a charcuterie board and some fresh fruit before heading up to her room and doing your usual storm routine

Once she started lightly singing to you and you told her she had a really pretty, soothing voice. So when the thunder gets really loud or you’re especially scared, she’ll wrap you in a hug and sing to you until you fall asleep or stop crying

She also likes to play with your hair or will even rub your shoulders/back to comfort you

Hope you guys liked these! I’m honestly this way with storms….I LOVE them and even don’t mind if they get a little loud, but if it’s constant, house-shaking booms or the power goes out when it’s already dark out, I can get pretty anxious!

My ask box is open so feel free to send me some hc ideas if you enjoyed!

[demxters]

—LOVING YOU IS TREACHEROUS

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: jake realizes there's more to his feelings for you than just pure attraction or the moment jake realizes he's falling in love

wc: 1.7k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), a little angst, swearing, bad parental relationships, mentions of vomiting, and drinking

part of the loving you universe || find it on ao3 here

FEEDBACK, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!

Things are different now. You are different now. Not in a bad way, you suppose. Just different. You’re more social, more outgoing, you feel more at peace with yourself. To think that it’s all because of a group project. 

Never would you have thought that a randomized group project would lead you to your newfound friends. Never would you have thought they would be Frat boys. Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin somehow wormed their way into your little friend group, bringing Javy Machado and Reuben Fitch with them. Suddenly, your little group of five became nine. You used to think you’d hate it, but now you wouldn’t have things any other way. 

Even Jake Seresin, who you found absolutely infuriating, added something to the dynamic of the group. Despite your clear distaste for him, it just wouldn’t be the same without him. 

You couldn’t explain it, but you felt complete. Had you told yourself five months ago that you’d become friends with Delta Chi’s most notorious you would have laughed in your own face. Never, in a million years, did you think that would ever happen. Yet here you were, spending your Saturday night in your apartment playing board games and drinking (they were drinking, you were supervising) with your expanded group.

“I call bullshit! That’s a hit!” Javy drunkenly slurs at Bob who holds his hands up with clear offense. 

Bob pushes his glasses up the slope of his nose. His flushed skin and pink tipped ears are a tell tale sign that he is intoxicated. “Is not!” 

Javy shakes his head vigorously. “Is to! Let me see that,” he clumsily reaches over towards Bob’s Battleship board. Javy’s lack of coordination sends the board flying, along with the rain of tiny red and white playing pieces that scatter across the living room. 

The room erupts in a chorus of shouts and groans upon the inevitable clean up of the game and you sigh from your place on the couch. “I think that’s enough of that for tonight.” You wipe your palms on the fabric of your pants before bringing yourself to a stand.

Carefully maneuvering around your friends who are now scattered all across the room picking up little red and white bullets, you gather the last of stray cups of alcohol that was left on the coffee table. 

“Hey!” Bradley catches sight of you whisking away their stash for the night. 

“Nope, no more drinks for tonight.” Bradley opens his mouth in protest as you continue, “Unless you want to spend the rest of the night cleaning the apartment of the mess you guys made.” 

The pointed look you give him makes his mouth snap shut and he sends you a mock salute before clumsily going back to picking up stray playing pieces. 

“Thank you,” you chide, sauntering over to the kitchen. You laugh at the sound of your friends’ overlapping chatter and Natasha’s mothering as she commands the boys to quit stalling and clean. 

There was no denying that your apartment was loud. Louder than it should be for ten o’clock at night. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care about quieting your friends down. You’ve spent so long living in silence that you embrace the sounds of joy and laughter that surround you. 

Silence isn’t unfamiliar to you. You grew up as an only child in a big house with emotionally absent parents. Silence was the only thing you ever knew. Then it wasn’t. 

You found a new home, a new family. One you wouldn’t give up for anything. 

You were too deep in your own musings to notice the faint footsteps creeping up behind you. 

“You missed a few,” a deep voice from behind you makes your heart jump. 

You almost drop the cups in your hand as you spin on your heel to see Jake Seresin standing in front of you with a few more glasses in hand. 

Your shoulders drop from your ears once you get a hold of your surroundings. “Geez, Seresin! You almost scared me half to death.” 

He winces at your wide eyes, biting his bottom lip to stifle the smile that threatens to cross his face. “Sorry,” he shrugs, stepping in front of you to place the cups on the counter behind you. 

You’re unsure whether or not he decided to step into your space intentionally. Either way, he was close enough for your chests to touch. The thought set your cheeks on fire, causing you to shove his arm away with a scoff. “Ever heard of personal space, Hangman?” 

Rather than the witty retort you were expecting out of him, Jake mumbles a soft apology before stepping back to keep an arm's length between you two. 

The silence that follows is unsettling. You realize that you have never been alone with Jake for longer than a few minutes at a time. When you were working on the group project together, Bradley was always around. The one time you tried to help him study for his American History final, you fell asleep halfway into your study session, cutting it short. For some reason you didn’t know how to act around him in any way other than hostile. 

You were glad he fought you back with just as much fire. It kept the strange feelings in your stomach at bay. 

The way he was looking at you now, however, this was different from the Jake you were so used to seeing. There was no puff to his chest or arrogance in his gaze. Only softness and dare you say, ease in his posture. 

“They’re showing the Twilight movies at the theaters this weekend if you were interested in going,” Jake breaks the silence. 

It takes you a moment to comprehend what he’s saying or to even realize that he’s talking to you. You thought Natasha must have stumbled her way into the kitchen but you glanced around to see no one but you two still there. You could no longer hear the noise being made by your friends in the living room. It was like all your senses had suddenly attuned to the man in front of you. The only thing you were aware of was him. You stutter embarrassingly over your words as you respond. “Oh, you mean wi–with you?” 

Jake’s eyes grow wide before he shakes his head. “No, well, yeah if you want to. I wasn’t trying to imply that you should go with me or anything. You could go with anyone you want. Doesn’t have to be me, I just thought that you’d like to know since you’re such a huge fan of the series.” 

Jake wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole right now. Smooth, Seresin, he scolds himself. Just when he thought he might have been reaching some middle ground with you, he had to go and make it weird by making you think he was asking you out. Not that he was opposed to the idea, rather that he wanted to ask you out the right way. Not while he was slightly tipsy in your kitchen. 

Your lips twitch unexpectedly, pulling upwards at the corners. There was something about seeing this side of Jake Seresin–the nervous, rambly side of him– that you found endearing. You preferred him more than the cocky, self centered frat boy he usually was. “How did you know I like the Twilight series?” 

He shrugs nonchalantly, a proud smile over taking his worried features. “You aren’t the only one who pays attention to things, Ace.” 

You put your hands up in surrender with light laughter, shaking your head softly. “Sorry, I’m just surprised that Jake Seresin pays attention to things other than sorority girls and himself.” 

“I pay attention to you,” the words just almost fall from his lips. Instead what comes out is, “And football. I pay attention to football too.” 

You snort, crossing your arms across your chest with a smirk. “Right, sorority girls, yourself, and the Dallas Cowboys.” 

“You got it, sweetheart,” he winks. 

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly when he winks and you find it absolutely amusing. A small fit of giggles erupt from you causing him to tilt his head with confusion. 

“What’s so funny, Ace?” he questions with his hands on his hips. 

His own lips quirk up as he tries not to laugh, finding your own incredibly contagious. That and he couldn’t help but think of just how much he loved seeing you this way. So open and carefree. 

Love. That isn’t the first time the word has popped into Jake’s head when he thought of you. It was, however, the first time he truly welcomed the thought. 

It wasn’t like in the movies, where the main character has this big revelation that they're in love. Rather, it slowly crept up on him. Always being in the back of his mind, but never clear enough for him to make out what it was exactly he was feeling. 

But things have changed lately, he has changed. You made him want to be better. 

You two weren’t close, far from it actually. But he wants to get close to you. He wants to be someone worth your time. He wants to be able to have more moments like this  with you. 

He was willing to prove that he was no longer the immature playboy you think he is. 

The question is on the tip of his tongue. Maybe he should just take this as an opportunity to ask you out. He opens his mouth, ready to take the leap when—

“Bradley!” Natasha shouts from the living room. “Ace, can you grab the Clorox? Bradley just threw up on the floor!” 

Mickey moans, “I think I might be next!”

You curse under your breath sending Jake a look he reciprocated with a tired sigh. 

“Well, looks like we’re on babysitting duty,” you weakly smile. 

He nods halfheartedly, watching you grab the wipes before hurrying out to the living room. His chest physically hurt as he watched you walk away. He was so close. However, he knew his feelings would have to wait. 

The old Jake didn’t do commitment or girlfriends. The old Jake didn’t fall in love. 

The new Jake was falling hard, and he was falling fast. He had a feeling things were only going to get more complicated from here. He doesn’t mind it, though. In fact, he kind of likes it. 

a/n: i genuinely feel like not many people read my work on here anymore but i've missed these two so much i had to post. as usual, if you made it this far, my inbox is always open and thank you for reading! :D

tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom @kmc1989 @percysaidnever @thestarspangledcaptain @wkndwlff @shanimallina87 @dracosluvbot

[yerrenica]

⋯ JAHA LEE x READER | to call a dog back home

⬦ info; pwp, the p is set up for the p?!?!, enemies to lovers speedrun, size kink, hookups, snow storms, dom/sub, associates with benefits?, fucking for warmth, petplay, vaginal sex, topping from the bottom, under-negotiated kink, voyeurism, handjobs.

⬦ wc; 6.8k

The only thing predictable about Jaha's life is its unpredictability, and it is this precise lack of predictability which has placed Jaha in this particular predicament.

Tell Mongrang to say that three times fast.

Everyone shivers as an angry gust of frigid air blows through their squad. That's something about the wind during this time of year, especially this far out, it blows right through you, cold and cruel like icy knives cutting into your very soul. Jaha had missed the snow during summer, but now he's not so sure. It's midday but the sun is already threatening to set, making it even colder. This far into the snow fields, death could come for anyone at any moment. 

Jaha had tasked himself with leading a team through the dregs of the country's badlands to retrieve something that should've never gotten this far in the first place. What sort of old coot decided to hide his most treasured sword in such a place was beyond him, and honestly, forming a grudge against him didn't seem too far-fetched at the moment.

To think that the geezer also did it while on his deathbed was absurd to Jaha. If you're going to die, then spend your last moments in comfort and warmth and save future generations the trips to icy wastelands.

But alas, what's done is done.

"Alright, it's official, we're lost," said one of their team members, Bitgaram, when they passed the fourth identical snow drift in a row, shaking snow from his hat. Fractured snowflakes collected on his hair and he futilely attempted to brush them away.

"Bitgaram, do you have anything useful to share or are you interested in losing your tongue today?" A raspy, cruel voice floated from somewhere behind Jaha and — ah, and there's the other thing. He's not the only one going after the treasure.

Usually, Jaha wouldn't mind too much (more carnage), even though he doesn't really get along with most other sword masters. But there is a particular brand of animosity between the two of them that Jaha finds a bit exciting, but also exhausting. They don't get along and neither plan to rectify that any time soon.

[Y/N] has spent their entire 3-day freezing expedition insulting him just to make sure of that fact. 

"Apologies, miss [Y/N]," Bitgaram seemed a bit nonplussed, a short stocky kind of man with a wiry moustache, he is one of [Y/N]'s because anyone under anyone else would surely piss themselves. The woman's soldiers held a healthy dose of fear for her, but throughout this outing, Jaha has come to understand that they also have a bit of a suicidal streak. You can only be threatened with bodily harm and mortal peril by your commanding officer so many times before you just stop giving a shit.

The fight itself had been pretty simple, just a group of unlucky swordsmen that'd gotten a little too cocky and refused to hand over the treasure. Jaha had retrieved the sword with some other trinkets from the big box of treasures, and [Y/N] had, well– massacred them.

She'd made quick work of the swordsmen, pushing furious waves of power through the snow.

Their own ranks were fine. Jaha's brothers had taken position above the field, hidden in the tree branches. Jaha's own skills kept him safe and all of [Y/N]'s soldiers were issued rubber soles after an unfortunate mass casualty incident.

The swordsmen, on the other hand, weren't so lucky.

Embarrassingly enough, the woman's shit personality and proclivity for violence was kind of doing it for Jaha, it always has. He supposes that this was a natural progression of his thoughts.

Earlier when they had surveyed the battlefield post-fight, the one [Y/N] had littered with mangled corpses, Jaha would be remiss if he didn't admit that it sparked something hot and heady in the pit of his stomach.

He pushes those thoughts from his mind, letting the icy wind take them away. Well, he makes his best attempt to. He's probably just getting brain damage from the cold. There cannot possibly be another reason that he doesn't want to wring her neck.

To be fair, he's always been a bit intrigued by her, sue him. She'd be right up Jaha's alley if it weren't for the fact they utterly despised each other.

Her tactics on the battlefield were impressive and her bias for extreme violence was just to Jaha's taste. She was also hot, objectively, in a purely work-appropriate observational way.

And then there was, of course, the avalanche.

"Miss [Y/N]!" Officer Occupational Hazard Bitgaram yelled as they trudged through the Northern mountains.

Everyone tensed as the woman swung around to see who exactly had sealed their fate, walking far faster than she should've been through knee-high snow before there was a deep rumbling from somewhere above.

"Take cover!" An angry avalanche set course for them.

Thick sheets of ice and snow threatened to sweep them away and consume them. The team dove to take cover behind trees, hands over their heads to make pockets in the snow in an attempt to save their lives.

Without thinking Jaha had grabbed the person closest to him and dragged them under an outcrop, watching as furious snow passed them by.

A smaller body pressed against him and Jaha subconsciously pulled them closer, burying their face in his chest. Whoever it is is freezing, all hard muscle, and smells good. A fraction of a second later, he realized that they were also tiny, and all of his hair was standing up from static electricity.

Oh shit. He tensed. He's dead.

In an attempt to pull away, his foot slid on a patch of covered ice and a twinge in his ankle made him stumble. Travelling in a group meant less time for his usual morning training. 

That was fine, Jaha thought. With a sound that felt a little too much like a yelp, he channelled his qi. Not the full thing, not all the way. It was too abrupt for him to do that. But it was enough to get blood to his muscles better.

Of course, that didn't make travelling within an avalanche any more pleasant. But at least it kept him from dying.

Ha. A mountain blizzard was a staggeringly vicious thing. He hadn't given that old coot enough credit. This was hard. But he supposes that's what the old man was striving for, to leave behind a legacy. To be remembered for generations to come.

To have been something.

It wasn't all bad, to exist for a purpose. A fixed point to move towards, the surroundings happily out of focus. Jaha had always known that. 

Or at least he did now.

"You'd have crawled into my lap back there if I'd let you, wouldn't you, Master Jaha?” The sounds of the party had been muted from wherever [Y/N] had pulled them to. Some abandoned corner of the building. It was huge, and there were a lot of those. This one had big curtains and wood that were obviously not installed with drunk sword masters in mind.

There was a hand up his shirt and one down his pants. Jaha swore. They were pressed close. Damp wood against his back. Whatever the woman was doing with her hands was making words form slowly, and even then only in fragments. 

Gods, he was sloshed. Seongtae had picked out a deadly slew of liquor for their victory lap.

"Drink a little too much?" [Y/N] asked.

Maybe. "Never."

He tried to coordinate his limbs to do something resembling reciprocity–he wanted to touch her, too–but he only ended up leaning his forehead against the other's hair. His vision swam as he watched his shirt be undone, hands tightening and loosening on black fabric. 

"You're so easy."

"Look at how simple it is to make you fall apart," [Y/N] had a giddy sort of sneer on. Jaha should say something.  

Was that true? Yeah, probably. A few drinks, a few murders. The music and food weren't half bad, and things were always so dull otherwise. Didn't he deserve this?

"Yes'ma'am," he hissed. He wasn't even sure what he'd chosen in reply, but that surprised laugh he got in response sounded mean and hot, so hot. God.

"Is this all I had to do to make you mind your manners? A drunk handjob?"

Jaha's hips jerked. Maybe. Okay, maybe.

"I prefer you like this," continued the woman, "Stay mindless next to me and maybe I'll keep you."

Jaha didn't want to be kept. That was not anything close to being in the script. This whole thing was just a stepping stone, conquer it and move on– oh, but he was close. 

Kept. His dick certainly liked how [Y/N] had phrased it. Maybe he did want that, just a little? His brain was soft and the woman was smiling up at him with eyes that promised something. Like waiting to reward him if he just–

"Uh– fuck," his brain couldn't keep up with his mouth, "Yeah. I'm, agh–"

"Good dog."

He didn't notice he had fallen asleep until something nudged him awake. It had all felt the same: when he opened his eyes he saw white and when he closed them he saw a slightly duller white. The cold was always there. But now it was different. There was someone there, too, against the bleached sky.

"No one could actually be this stupid."

Jaha saw himself move rather than felt it, but he realized dully that [Y/N]'s boot on his chest was the reason, "Get up."

"[Y/N]?" asked Jaha. It hurt to blink, so he kept his eyes shut, "Hi. What're you doing here?"

"Hi yourself," the woman frowned down at him. 

"How did you find me?" He had to be a mile or so from where he had left the others.

"The smell," she huffed, "I followed the smell of pure idiocy, and it led me here. Now get up," she repeated.

"Alright, yeah," said Jaha. It wasn't his idea to be hurled away by an avalanche and pass out, but at least it was [Y/N] who found him, and not the rest of the crew. It might be quicker this way, too.

"Did you not hear me?" came a sharp voice, "Jaha," it said sternly.

"What is it?"

"Stand up."

"...Am I not?"

He was not. It seemed he hadn't moved from the first time he had been instructed. Which was strange, because he definitely remembered doing so. But now that he was being hefted up, it struck him that this was completely different. 

Jaha looked back over his shoulder, towards the top of the mountain, "What about the others?"

"The others–?" The woman seemed to remember all at once what Jaha was talking about, "Forget about them."

"Huh– why?"

"What do you mean why? Because you're barely conscious," [Y/N] snapped, "There's a cave up ahead. I'm bringing you there."

Jaha scowled. He wanted to argue, to protest, but the words wouldn't form right through the clacking of his teeth.

The maw of the cave was sizable and opened wide onto the white. This must be why there had been a cliff in the first place. The howling immediately stopped as they crossed the threshold. Temperature-wise, there was not much of a difference. Being out of the wind, however, did go a long way. Jaha felt like the boulder resting on his lungs had been downgraded to a large rock.

"Well," began [Y/N] with a sigh. Jaha had been aware in a vague, through-water sort of way that he had graduated from leaning on the other to being dragged by her, "You've really outdone yourself this time."

He was deposited onto the floor. His vision swam between the blinks of his watery eyes. It was as he pondered the ceiling of the cave, slanted and pockmarked, that Jaha came to the conclusion that he must be lying on his back. There was a tickle in his throat that he couldn't dislodge with coughing. Thoughts came slowly. Irritability lingered.

"That's an ugly face you're pulling towards the one who just saved your life," said [Y/N] from somewhere next to him. 

The last cough left Jaha's chest like a growl. His head spun as if he were falling. Unable to get his bearings or discern where exactly [Y/N] was to glare at her, he rolled himself sideways and spoke with his cheek pressed to the pebble-laden floor.

This whole situation was too reminiscent of his past life.

"If you hadn't intervened, I would have been just fine," Jaha replied. Now that he was slowly regaining some small awareness of his body, he became aware of an acute pain in his temple. His knee was beginning to ache as well.

"Even for you, this is a new level of insanity," [Y/N] continued in a terse tone as if Jaha hadn't spoken. The ground crunched as she busied herself with something the man couldn't discern, "Be grateful that I deemed having you alive would be less work than dragging your dead body back to your subordinates."

There was a retort ready in Jaha's throat, but as footsteps approached, it became harder and harder to remember it. His field of view was overtaken by two boots, the snow on them melting. Then one disappeared from view, and there was a pressure on his chest as he was rolled over onto his back once more.

Many layers of clothes further numbed the sensations that were barely getting through to his body. Still, when [Y/N] threw a leg over him and sunk down to straddle Jaha's hips, he at least attempted to lift his head up.

There was no need. The back of his skull hit the ground immediately. His jaw was opened by one finger pressing into his canines, but then the other paused.

"You channelled your qi. Poorly, at that."

Jaha couldn't well answer with the way his mouth was being held open. 

"You did. There are burst blood vessels in your eyes," [Y/N] sneered as she used her thumb to pull down at the bottom of Jaha's eye. The man wanted to ask why it mattered. Before he could, though, something was poured into his mouth.

"Don't make a scene. Swallow it."

His mouth was held shut. Jaha breathed hard through his nose, clenched his teeth, glared fucking daggers. The woman wore an expression that suggested she might have been reading a particularly uninteresting field report. 

"Swallow," she repeated with an upward nod like it was only a matter of time before she got what she wanted. All Jaha's nerves seemed to come back online at once. He whined from behind closed lips.

It burned worse than Eastern alcohol on the way down. 

He understood then that his body had been on pause, and now everything was back online all at once. 

Feeling spread from his throat to his stomach and into his limbs. Now the threat of not freezing to death had passed, and every other pain sang to life in a horrible chorus.

He became aware that he was shivering– had he been so the entire time? Fatigue swept through him, worse than what he usually felt while training in his past life. His bones and teeth hurt. 

Jaha cursed as he sat himself up, coughing. His lungs took in stinging cold air but he couldn't even catch his breath. He watched as the woman walked back over to her knapsack and slipped a small bottle back into one of the many pockets. 

"What was that?" He wiped his chin. 

"You're overreacting. It was a warming vial."

Jaha's addled mind spun for a bit before he put meaning to the words. The little glass bottles parents gave their kids when playing in the snow. They'd place them in their pockets to keep their hands warm. He never questioned what they were filled with.

"You're not supposed to drink those, last I checked."

'Doesn't matter," [Y/N] shrugged, "You just did."

Being horizontal was suddenly very unappealing. Groaning, the man slid himself over to lean against the wall of the cave, far from the entrance. His mood was sour and just about everything that could hurt in his body did. He didn't typically mind pain much– but miscalculation stung more when he'd had to be rescued as a result.

"What about the others?" asked Jaha, dimly. 

"I told them to stay put."

"I hope we don't return to them frozen to death." He shifted his knee up and sucked in a pained breath. 

"Oh please," huffed [Y/N] at Jaha's bellyaching, "You aren't dead just yet."

The snow whirled outside without stopping. He felt almost like a stupid kid again. Playing out in the snow too long, getting scolded by his grandfather. The neighbourhood kids that'd stuff rocks into snowballs. Those bruises always took forever to stop aching.

Jaha watched in silence as [Y/N] built up a small fire. She took materials from the knapsack by the wall. It was one of the ones their crew had packed before setting out; she must have grabbed it before she came to find Jaha. 

"How do you even know about this place?" The man squinted, rubbing at his ribs.

"It might be your first time out here, but it isn't mine," replied the woman easily.

The fire, now lit, drew him in. Jaha shifted closer to be nearer, ignoring the way [Y/N] stopped to scoff. Even the sound of the wood popping under the heat felt good.

From a rock near the entrance, [Y/N] looked out at the storm, "We'll stay to wait out the worst of this. I doubt it'll last longer than the night," she paused for a moment, "And Master Jaha..."

Jaha groaned in acknowledgement. His eyes were closing.

"The next time you decide to face a natural disaster, be honest about your limits," her voice seemingly softened, but Jaha brushed it off as just him being tired and hearing things.

"I won't know them until I find them," mumbled the man, "And like you said, I'm not dead just yet."

"We don't happen to have some chicken noodle soup stuffed in that pack, do we?" groaned Jaha haplessly. Sometime between falling asleep and the sun setting, lying down had become appealing again. Sometime between lying down becoming appealing again and now, a ratty blanket had been placed underneath him.

"I've got another warming vial if you'd like," said [Y/N]. 

Jaha pursed his lips, sulking.

"Then stop complaining."

[Y/N] was still sitting where she had been when Jaha slipped out of consciousness, the only difference being now she was whittling something. Her hands moved slowly, but the tiny pile of wood shavings next to her suggested she'd been at it for some time. It was too small for Jaha to see from where he lay.

Next to him, the fire was still going, but growing weak. It left a stark desire for warmth in its embers. The woman had already informed him that there had only been enough materials for one in the pack. Once this was gone, he'd go back to devoting half of his thoughts to craving any sort of warmth.

"So you've been to this place before?" Jaha asked. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Did you mean the village near this place?"

[Y/N] hummed, along with a sigh, "Yes. It was part of my training growing up."

Training all the way out here while growing up? Suddenly, her attitude made sense to Jaha. After all, these mountains served as a place for outcasts to gather.

"This is the middle of nowhere," Jaha paused, "Do they have running water?

"I would hope so. There may be some rejects who forgo hygiene but I'd like to believe most are in the habit of bathing."

"A hot bath sounds good. Do you like baths?"

"Occasionally. Not for such juvenile purposes as relying on it to warm myself," she eyed Jaha in mock ridicule.

"Well, once we make it there, we can share one."

The small sound of scraping wood and the ever-present wind was all that could be heard for some time.

"You really don't feel cold?" Jaha said after a moment, turning his head slightly, "Not at all?"

"No," said [Y/N] to the blizzard, "Not at all."

The man blinked. The whirl behind [Y/N]'s silhouette seemed as if they were going to catch on her figure and swallow her. Like between this fluttering closure of his eyelids and the next, Jaha would find himself alone. He wondered why she had come. Responsibility as a teammate was the most sensible answer. But the martial masters didn't really rely on such routine ways of thinking. So why not just leave him to die in the snow? 

Nothing [Y/N] did was without some sort of contradiction, Jaha had realized.

"I don't believe you."

At this, the woman turned. They held each other's gaze for a moment. Jaha's chest panged with how much he wished her closer. If the situation were different, he'd say some nonsense and suggest so. That worked about half the time if his math was correct.

[Y/N] did make to move, though not towards Jaha. She placed down what she had in her hands and stood, slowly. 

"My subordinates would hardly hold me in their high graces if something like the cold could deter me from my goals."

Jaha wondered, was that a jab at him?

She worked at the neckline of her cloak for a moment. Jaha didn't understand what she was attempting to do until suddenly her cloak dropped to the ground and she stood in clothes unsuited for the temperature.

Jaha's heart jogged in his chest as if on instinct. His head still pounded, but he knew how it felt to touch that body and his palms itched. 

"What're you…"

"You're cold, aren't you?" She asked as she bent over to pull off her boots, "The fire's almost died out, after all."

Jaha kept quiet, tracing her movements with his eyes.

His mannerisms made her scoff, "Stop gawking. As if this is something I haven't shown you before."

As if there were anywhere else to look.

Thumbs hooked over the waistband, pulling her pants off. She pushed both it and her underwear down in one motion, before tossing them to the side carelessly. Then she stood there, watching Jaha watch her. All of her. Every piece. There was a mild amusement in her eyes.

Jaha stared directly at that form, but it was like trying to focus on an aftereffect. Everything was reflected through that hue. The hair that ghosted the base of her neck, the dip of her shoulders, her breasts, her tummy, the ever so slight flare of hips, the curve of the back of her legs. 

It was true, Jaha had seen her body before. But had always been denied the opportunity to take it in. Always so rough and fast and hard. Frantic. Now, there was quiet. Not calm, but something like a perversion of it. And [Y/N] looked, against the cragged rockface really, truly, exactly like a deity.

"Something you want to say?" [Y/N]'s eyes stayed locked onto Jaha's. At that, he couldn't hold it, and looked away, earning an amused scoff.

"You're a real petty piece of work, you know?" Jaha said tersely, mostly to distract himself from how he could feel his dick stirring. Even looking away, the thoughts flowed into his brain like sewage.

"Hmm?" Her lips quirked up into something that resembled a smirk, "Here I was hoping you'd be grateful."

Jaha scoffed quietly, observing as she approached him.

"I wonder," said Jaha. [Y/N] was kneeling in front of him before moving to straddle him, looking vaguely interested, but not really, "Will the others really be alright?"

"They'll figure something out," [Y/N] replied, "They can huddle for warmth if anything."

Warmth. Pressed up against a solid, beating thing. Images had washed over his mind in that instant. The woman was like a conduit for heat. It always began cold whenever they slept together and slid into something warmer.

He must have been staring because [Y/N] had a strange expression on her face.

"What?" asked she.

"No, it's nothing."

There was a slight pressure on his cheek. He felt soft, malleable. He realized [Y/N] had his face cupped in one hand, "Not getting ideas, are we, Master Jaha?"

He had been until this touch had stopped everything short.

"Not at all."

"Don't lie to me."

The promise of being done with this terrible feeling, even for a moment, was too strong. He knew he was going to lose this fight. 

"[Y/N]," he began. The only thing he could hear was his own harsh breathing.

"What?"

There had been words he wanted to say. Something to articulate. But all that he managed was, "M'cold."

"I know," there was a small pleasure in it, "That's why I'm here."

Jaha's eyes looked her up and down.

"What do you need?"

He felt like he was stuck underneath a frozen lake. Losing without putting up a fight. She wouldn't tell anyone, would she? 

"You."

The hand holding Jaha's face dropped away, "But I can't keep you warm for long." 

He understood what was going on. That he was being baited. But if he did as he was told and laid a hand on the bare body before him now…

…he could slip his hands to lay on either side of [Y/N]'s neck. He might slide them lower then, down her shoulders, to her elbows. Press at her ribcage, and move back up. Jaha may squeeze at that chest.

And yet...

[Y/N] raised her eyebrows. A small tilt of her head, "No? You're getting cold feet now?"

"I can't tell if this is what you want," Jaha managed to reply, his mouth fuzzy, “My head… kind of hurts."

"Then you don't have to think. Isn't that what you've always done, anyway?"

Heedless instances and red flashes and split-second decisions. Impulse and action were what made him up. Yeah, it was what he had always done. 

"Go on. Lead with your hands," said she, "Lean towards what you think will warm you up."

Jaha reached out. It felt like it took years for the gap between their bodies to end in a small point of contact. Just the flat of Jaha's hand on the base of [Y/N]'s neck. Thumb at the corner of her jaw. 

As if it were the easiest thing in the world, the woman shifted in Jaha's lap. So little work for so much reward. The pressure of her body was proof that sensations other than cold existed. Bare legs on either side of his hips, [Y/N] sat for a spell, watching. That hand was still resting on his neck. She narrowed her eyes and nudged it.

"Is this all you want to touch, Master Jaha?"

His cheeks burned, though he didn't know why. They'd done this before, and every time Jaha was always overeager. 

"I've already given you permission," said [Y/N] complacently, "Do whatever you want to me," She grabbed Jaha's hand and brought it to squeeze her breast, "After all, you're a stupid dog. You can't help yourself."

His dick jumped. More bait, he thought dully, but pride was much harder to touch than [Y/N]'s skin. And shame couldn't be all that bad if it set his nerves alight like this. Jaha kissed the last bit of his senses away. 

It wasn't all that difficult afterwards to pull her closer. He panted against that tongue and whimpered at the bites on his lips. Hands rested on his shoulders, bunching in the fur of his collar. With nothing of his own to hang on to, Jaha held tight to the skin on the back of [Y/N]'s upper arm, the base of her spine, her hips. His hands felt clumsy, without purchase.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

[Y/N]'s hand in his hair tightened into a fist and settled Jaha's head back against the wall. He was trying to breathe through his nose so that the air wouldn't feel as cold.

"I– I–" Fuck. His mind was slipping into those soft, easy places. He wanted the simple shame badly. Sit. Stay. Roll over. 

"I need you to tell me I'm a good boy."

It should be something admitted through clenched teeth, a bitten-off confession wrenched from him by force. But Jaha knew how good it could feel, and he also knew [Y/N]'s bored eyes would grow that much sharper at how ineptly it tumbled from his tongue.

Fingers were at his neck. They rested just below his jawline and sprouted a fire there, like everywhere else that [Y/N] touched. Those hands weren't hot, or even warm, so there must really be something wrong with Jaha's head. A thumb trailed up to press into the hollow beneath his bottom lip while the other fingers curled beneath his chin. Jaha's mouth hung open in small breaths.

"And are you?"

"Yeah."

[Y/N] cupped him through his pants, "You are? You're not a mutt with nothing in his brain but when he can next get his dick wet?" 

He winced but managed to hold their eye contact. He wanted to earn this, "No— I'll be your good boy. Really good for you. Please."

"Haha," [Y/N] sat back, "Haha! Is there anything you won't do? Would you splay your stomach for me?"

Jaha nodded until he was sure he'd pulled something in his neck. 

"Show me just how good you can be," breathed the woman. She released her hold on Jaha and sat back, "Get yourself off."

If there was still such a thing as shame in this little world they'd trapped themselves in, then maybe Jaha would have hesitated before fumbling out of his pants. 

[Y/N] seemed to remember something, and only deigned to move from her position in the man's lap to root through the knapsack again. She threw a small vial at Jaha before sitting right back down.

Regular oil. [Y/N] had used it to wet the tinder for the fire earlier. 

He unfastened his pants and slid them down his thighs just enough to free his dick. He then tipped the oil into his palm and started to stroke himself.

It hurt, his hands shook, but the friction felt good. The impulse to shutter his eyes nearly won out–but he wanted to be seen. To perform well and do as he was told bore the risk of reward. If the woman was feeling generous. 

There was a chance Jaha would be delegated to finishing in his own hand with nothing so much as another touch from [Y/N]. Just a bored look and a mildly amused, pitying expression; Jaha had seen it before. It didn't matter, not really. There was heat in being the subject of such strict attention.

"Is this how you treat yourself when you think of me?"

"Yes," Jaha was distantly surprised at how desperate his voice sounded. 

"Go on, keep talking. You wouldn't want me to lose interest."

"I think of our fights, the way you hit me."

"A dog who likes being disciplined."

"It's so hard to find someone who's able to keep up," Jaha twisted his wrist. He swore he saw real contempt pass over [Y/N]'s features, "You fight me like you really– hah –want to kill me.

"But I also," Jaha swallowed, "I really like when I can throw you off balance. And you give me that look like you're impressed with me."

"How honest."

"Ha… a nice break from all the treachery at Gangho, right?"

"Yes, but a mind as empty as yours can't contain shame. A mindless, pretty, obedient boy."

Jaha's hand stuttered for a moment on the upstroke. He pressed a thumb into the head of his cock to keep from coming right then.

"Maybe I'll reward you," the woman hummed for a moment. Her eyes raked over Jaha's body. He was the one with all his clothes on, but he felt seen through. 

His wrist was swatted away as the woman took Jaha's cock into her own hand. And unlike Jaha, she set a much faster pace. 

He didn't know how often they'd fucked. There were too many instances of a fight becoming something more, or an ill-advised dare between them, to count it properly. Still, they hadn't been at this all that long. And yet [Y/N] knew exactly what touches shook Jaha out of his mind with pleasure. His brain went white like the storm outside.

"Stay," instructed she. Jaha's hands bunched in the blanket underneath him. 

He had to be good. He had to be good because if he wasn't, then [Y/N] would stop, leave him here. No use for a defunct weapon, a disobedient dog. He felt like he could cry. The brief brush of a nail against the underside of his cock, the way the heel of the woman's hand pressed into the head.

"God, [Y/N], Please, please, please–"

The touch vanished. Jaha buckled forward with a strangled sound. His hands flew to [Y/N]'s shoulders, his head rested against her neck. His shaking arms wrapped around her. His chest heaved. 

"You can show discipline when you want to," a pitying hand carded through the hair at the nape of his neck, "Or is it only just for me?"

Yes, for you. Jaha wanted to say. No one else has ever been able to do this to me. I'm stuck with you.

"Please," Jaha swallowed, "Please."

"I don't know what you're begging for," said [Y/N], nonchalantly, "Tell me what you want, dog."

"I want to be inside you. Where it's warm."

"I've already given you my whole body. You still want more?"

He didn't know how he'd ever stop wanting more.

"Yes."

"Hm. And you'll be good?"

"Yeah. Promise."

[Y/N] pushed him back. With efficiency, she splayed herself out on the blanket, leaving Jaha to do his best to situate himself. The woman waited as Jaha stumbled out of his pants. Then he shifted until he was on top of her. His cloak covered most of their bodies. It gave the whole thing a bit of modesty, and even though there was no one but them, Jaha didn't want anyone to see how she let herself be touched by him.

He brought a shaking hand down [Y/N]'s stomach, down to between her legs. 

"You're wet," Jaha realized happily. 

"Yeah," [Y/N]'s eyes lidded, "And I can see your tail wagging."

Jaha had wanted to be asked, to be guided through, but he didn't need to be asked twice. He lifted up [Y/N]'s hips to position himself. He spread her legs apart, and the woman just allowed him to, limp and expectant. Jaha let one leg rest just over his shoulder. 

And then he couldn't wait anymore. He pushed himself inside with a sigh. Perfect and tight and warm. 

"Not just anyone would do this for you, you know," said [Y/N] from under him. 

"I know," Jaha nodded as he began to move. Nothing, not the fire, or the draught or anything had felt as good as this. 

He dipped his head and kissed the woman's neck. As he sped up it became sloppier until he was panting open-mouthed against the skin. There was so much sensation after hours of nothing. [Y/N] safe underneath him and Jaha safe in her hands. Everything else seemed small in the light of these facts. Being of service. Doing what he was told.

"How does it feel?" asked [Y/N]. As tight as Jaha was holding her, she didn't cling back. It wasn't uncommon to spot this detached look in her eyes, though Jaha never knew exactly what to do with it. 

He settled for being earnest. It pushed its way past what little else was in his mind, "So good, thank you–"

There was a pressure building near the base of his spine, his stomach. Jaha was well aware he was close. But if he finished now, then she would move away again. He'd be without anything to grasp. And then what? Worse, getting himself off first felt selfish. He should take care of [Y/N] first, shouldn't he?

It must have shown on his face because [Y/N] spoke. 

"Slow down."

Jaha whined. He wanted to. Only it was impossible, it had to be. But that's what he'd been told. Commanded. Somehow, his hips slowed and stopped. 

A hand came to rest at his jaw. [Y/N] looked so composed, and Jaha felt ruined. But the woman's eyes were so pretty. They narrowed in a small laugh. 

"Good boy, Jaha."

His heart skipped. His hips moved on their own. 

"Sorry–"

"Oh, you do like it. No one calls you that anymore, do they?" He was being teased, but there seemed to be something more behind the words. Like she was happy to have this knowledge. And Jaha knew, somehow, that she'd hold it safe. 

"Do you miss it?" A thumb over his cheek, "Does it make you feel whole again?"

"Yes," Everything felt raw and real. His heart was flayed and pumping hot blood. He wanted to move, needed to move.

[Y/N] did so first. She rolled her hips down and before long Jaha was meeting her. They found a rhythm easier than usual. The usual was claws and teeth and grasping onto whatever they could. Here, Jaha had given up the reins. Heat swelled up between them. 

It was so soft and so warm. Jaha drove himself over and over and over into that heat, watching the way the skin of the woman's stomach buckled and moved.

He looked up, perhaps meaning to say something, but was distracted by the look he found on [Y/N]'s face. How empty it appeared at that moment. Their eyes met, but the woman only blinked.

Jaha wanted to bury himself inside. Would that draw out a reaction? Not just fucking, or fighting, but to live underneath that skin. There, he'd never be cold again, he was sure. How could he be, with someone to guide him from the storm?

Small hands went to grab the back of Jaha's arm, and that was all the warning he received before [Y/N] tightened around him. The minute movements in her expression, the clenching of her jaw, the too-fast blink of her eyelids. Jaha watched it all. The woman looked, for the first time since she had stripped herself, vulnerable. 

He should stop. Jaha knew well how [Y/N] must feel right now, oversensitive and spent. But there it was; the urge to gorge himself on it. [Y/N]'s ankle behind his back pulled him closer. If he didn't stop at this moment, he knew he was not going to be able to. 

"I–"

"Go on."

He thought he heard a sob, and then realized it must have been his own voice. A shudder wracked his body as he came–but shuddering from something other than cold felt so good. 

It hurt dully when he collapsed to the side. The blanket really was not very thick at all. As if on impulse, he gathered her up in his arms and pressed her bare body close. Jaha worried for a moment that it was going to earn him a smack, but it was only the cloak being pulled over both of them. The sounds of the blizzard filtered back to the forefront. Then there was oblivion inside, as there was outside.

The other team members were fine, only nearly cried when they saw the two of them return safe and sound. Whatever paperwork it would have been for [Y/N] if a few of them died under her watch, it would've probably been leagues worse if she and Jaha had died instead.

The village, when they finally reached it, was more elaborate than Jaha had expected. They had only lost half a day to travel, and with a clear weather report for the next few days, they should be able to make it on time.

That night, Jaha knocked on the door to [Y/N]'s suite. A maid opened it. Her forearms were damp and she had a wood bucket in her hand. She dismissed herself with a bow.

"So," Jaha said, taking a seat on the bed, "About that bath offer."

[Y/N] didn't look up. She was in front of the bathroom sink, undressing. Jaha walked up behind her and untucked her shirt. 

"It was you who offered if I recall correctly," [Y/N] said to the mirror.

"Yeah, but your bathroom's bigger. Perks of being a little more renowned than me."

"A little?"

The shirt fell to the tiled floor. [Y/N] turned to face him. Around her neck, she wore a necklace.

"Is this new?" He touched it with one hand, "I've never seen you wear it before."

It was long and wooden. He could see the lines of precise carvings on it. 

"Yeah," [Y/N] brought it to her lips, "Want to hear it?"

The sound was faint, high-pitched. It was made to echo off trees and call well-trained pups back home.

A dog whistle.

© yeri (@yerrenica) ⬦ do not repost, copy, translate, nothing. huhu, I've been gone for too long again, my baadd..... I have to posture here, though, that you can use oil (olive/canola/etc) as a way to wet tinder for fire. and if you didn't know, olive oil was historically used as lube. It's important to me to tell you that I didn't bs that.

[sheeple]

I'm not the best at these kinds of things (headcanons) but I just had to put it out into the world before I go crazy. This is mostly inspired by DEATH by Melanie Martinez (link). It's half-baked and has no real end. Do with it what you want Warning(s): death / wonky use of past and present tense Part 2 (ish)

Okay so I've had this idea of a soldier (you) that's a human experiment done by the government 

And through science or something you are immortal and heal really quick

Like a stab wound is nothing, a bullet is maybe an hour or two

Very indestructible

You get bounced around different squads and countries 

And when it's time to move on, you get from their handler the signal that they have to fake their death the next time you go on a mission 

It has been like that for years until the 141

At first, the boys don't trust this random soldier Laswell claims is needed until they actually see the absolute beast that is you (you know how to fight and fight well)

Price likes you because you're a fighter. You know how to follow orders and have great discipline

Ghost is iffy at first, but when you take a bullet and a knife to the shoulder for him he sees that you're not just some rando that's temporarily placed with them. He also feels like he owes you

Gaz and Soap are happy to have your company

I feel like they are the most likely to actually talk to you. They don't trust you immediately (Soap does after what you did for Ghost)

Soap is also happy to no longer be the youngest around

It's honestly a surprise to you that you mesh with the Task Force so well

Because most soldiers see you more as a hindrance than an asset

And you're honestly glad to have not received a message to move on

Days turn to weeks, and weeks turn into months that you're with the 141 

This is the longest that you've been with one team and you feel at home

You train with Ghost and celebrate every time you manage to beat him. The man actually laughs when you flop him onto his back and you jump up and down

You help Gaz with cooking when it's his duty. He's a horrible cook, but with your help, his pasta doesn't taste like dog piss

You keep Price company while he does paperwork. He takes your cup of steaming coffee with a grateful smile before turning back towards the file. You take place on the chair in front of his desk and read

You and Soap are often found outside playing soccer together or on the shooting range. He teaches you about explosives and you improve his reloading speed

Everything is fine and you actually feel like a member of the 141. You even think they forgot about you until you've got called into Price's office for a secured phonecall

Price eyes you as you receive the news to get yourself KIA on the next mission and report to your handler

The captain raises his brows and you lie that it was a message from your family. Something about a cousin getting married. 

You even joke with the guys before the briefing about how your parents felt the need to go above and beyond to bring you the news

The mission is simple; get in, extract the hostage, and get out.

You're quiet on the way towards the location, your mind racing a million miles an hour about how you're supposed to leave this

How you're expected to leave the first people who felt like home to you since... ever

You don't notice that a tear has escaped you until Soap has laid a hand on your shoulder. You quickly wipe it away and give the sergeant a smile, reassuring him you're okay

The mission went smoothly until Ghost radioed in that the hostage had a bomb strapped to their chest

You see your opportunity and make your way over to Ghost. He's concerned when you tell him you can free the hostage from their vest

And you do so, successfully

The hostage is free and Ghost is leading them away

You grab your chance and mess with the vest, making it display ten seconds until detonation

"Ghost... Run..."

He turns around, his eyes wide behind the mask. They flicker between you and the vest in your hands

Seeing that the lieutenant isn't moving, you take your own initiative and start running

Away from Task Force 141

Away from your guys

The vest explodes and it makes the building above you collapse and burn. You manage to crawl out under the rubble and get to the rendezvous point that your handler has given you

A chopper is already waiting for you once you get there

Teary-eyed, you watch the buildings grow smaller and smaller until you're too far away from them

Meanwhile...

Soap tries to dig you out from under the rubble but gets pulled away by Ghost

He fights the lieutenant as tears stream over his face

Task Force 141 is sombre once they arrive back at the base and give you an unofficial burial 

One of the hardest things Price ever had to do was report your death to Laswell

Months pass before the boys are a semblance of okay. They are no stranger to death and they know they have to move on, but you were something else

There is a you-shaped hole in the team's heart that won't close for a very long time

You are being bounced around again to different teams all over the world

Until KorTac

You've received word that KorTac bought you and that you've got a new handler

That being König

At first, he isn't thrilled about taking care of you. That is until he sees how capable you are

Where König goes, so do you

It's one of those missions that the unthinkable happens

You're scoping a building, clearing a path for König when you spot familiar figures at the end of the hallway

"Shit", you curse, pressing yourself to the wall

König looks at you with raised eyebrows before peeking around the corner

At the end of the hallway stand Soap and Gaz, and you have no way of escaping without hurting them

[kvohru]

never both/pragmatic - nejiten week '24

day 1 - saudade (portuguese) The feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia. A yearning for happiness that has passed, or perhaps never even existed.

Tenten was surprised when she got the dinner invitation in the mail. She supposed she shouldn’t have been, though. It was just about time for the Team Gai monthly dinners—the weekend of the 15th of every month. Every month, on the fifteenth (or the weekend that corresponded or was closest to it—for practicality purposes), Gai-han would meet up at a local diner and have a meal together. They’d catch up and discuss how their weeks were, complaining about mundanities such as an annoying grocery store run or the pipes being frozen again due to the harsh Konoha winters. They might even share the details of their last mission—with Neji being a newly appointed Jōnin, it delighted Gai to listen to his student, whom he’d nurtured from a cynical little twelve year old, constantly angry at the world and stuck in his ways, to a mature, level-headed young adult who had finally begun to have faith in life. Who had finally allowed himself to dream and hope and love and laugh and everything in between.

It delighted Gai even more so when he’d notice, through the little passing details in Neji’s stories, that the Hyūga had subconsciously adopted some of Gai’s ways when leading a team of his own. It got him thinking how it would be for Neji if he were to ever lead a squad of Genins, someday. How his own experiences as a Genin and how Gai’s tutelage might subconsciously pass on to that new squad. Out of the three of them—Lee, Neji and Tenten—Neji was the least likely to verbally express affection. He wasn’t particularly good with flowery words, and he often struggled to articulate such feelings, courtesy of his upbringing, so it was much easier for him to show affection through his actions. He was always willing to go out of his way to help, even in small, almost unnoticeable ways such as filling up an extra water bottle just in case someone forgot to fill up theirs (usually Gai, ironically enough). Buying candy for Tenten if he noticed (which he always did) that her mood was down. Making time to spar with Lee despite their packed schedules, if only to indulge in that nostalgia and spend time with his friend, in their own special way.

He was dependable. Kind.

Contrary to what some might think, Hyūga Neji was so very kind. He was undeniably good, and it showed in his actions. It bled through to his morals and how he conducted himself.

So for Gai to have his legacy passed on so tangibly, subconsciously no less, and to be able to see that with his own eyes… It was a feeling of accomplishment unlike any other. No amount of successful S-Rank missions or victories could trump the feeling of knowing you made a difference in someone’s life. Of knowing your influence on someone changed the course of their life for the better, even if only by a little bit.

This would be the first Team Gai dinner since Neji had died in the Fourth Great Ninja War.

This would be the first Team Gai dinner as a squad of three, not four.

Tenten looked at the invitation again. It was from Gai-sensei, inviting her to the local yakiniku place they’d been to so often in the past. Sometimes they’d go after missions, and Gai would treat them to reward their success, or even to uplift them after a failure; to remind them that there’s always a next time. Sometimes they’d go for celebrations—birthdays and rank promotions and such. And sometimes it was simply an excuse to see each other again, amidst all the responsibilities of being older, more dependable shinobi. Sometimes it was just an excuse to enjoy each other’s company and be together, if only for a night, like they’d grown so accustomed to in their earlier years.

It had been so long since Tenten had met up with Gai-sensei and Lee, outside of formal business of some sort. It was just too painful.

Over the past year or so after the war, Tenten and Lee alternated taking care of Gai. After the many months he spent bedridden in the hospital, during which they would alternate visiting him almost everyday, it was a given that one would see Gai strolling around the village in his wheelchair, accompanied by one of his former subordinates. It was like an unspoken agreement had been signed between Lee and Tenten: always one of them, and never both. It was easier that way.

When one of them was alone with Gai, it was easier to pretend that the two absent teammates were off doing their own thing. It was easier for Tenten to pretend, if only for a little bit, that Lee and Neji were off training at their usual spot, and it was easier for Lee to pretend that Tenten and Neji were taking a stroll around the village, or even hanging out at a tea shop, like they’d taken to doing at some point down the line. It was easier to ignore that gaping hole Neji’s death had left behind. That missing limb that overwhelmingly hindered the movement of the body as a whole. It was easier to ignore than to try and adjust to it—to the missteps and phantom pains and jerky movements.

Too soon after the war, shinobi were forced to take on new roles and responsibilities befitting the new needs of the village and the Allied Shinobi Forces as a whole, which put their grief on the back burner, and at some point, they eventually got too caught up with their own lives (which was, as much as Tenten hated admitting it, somewhat of a coping mechanism to deal with the loss of someone so significant) that they stopped seeing each other and meeting up. In the process of ‘dealing with’ (i.e. forgetting) and moving on from the loss of Neji, they ended up moving on from their bond as a team and all the memories they’d shared. It was easier to cut each other clean off and fully move on from team Gai as a whole than it was to try and pick the pieces back up and reconstruct it, this time wholly aware of the missing member.

That’s why, over the past year or so, Team Gai had let the distance get between them. They surrendered to it. Let it cause a chasm between them and then some. It was better for them to drift apart with love and goodness and grace and well-wishes in their hearts than to let the grief overwhelm them and drive a vicious wedge between them, like it had during those days immediately after the war. The way Tenten saw it—and she felt that Lee no doubt thought the same—it was better for Team Gai to dissolve naturally and amicably.

And for a while, that worked. Terrifyingly well.

The world had already begun to move on from the War, and the village was mostly rebuilt. People—shinobi and civilians alike— were rebuilding their lives and getting used to this era of peace. It was weird. It honestly still felt surreal most days. Tenten—any shinobi in general—was so used to being on edge all the time, and constantly preparing for the worst. Her fight or flight response was always either on edge or at the forefront, waiting like a dog poised to strike. But now, there was no war anymore, and though the effects of it could still be seen and felt everywhere, people were starting to acclimate. She didn’t need to conceal knives on her person anymore when going out. She didn’t need to sleep restlessly anymore.  She would be okay. She was okay.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

At the last second, Tenten reached for her mascara again, unscrewing it and giving her lashes one last coat. She knew it was probably unneeded, but she did it anyway, and she felt better. She was still getting used to that—doing things for the sake of doing them, knowing they served no real purpose.

Tenten was… pragmatic. Very much so. And don’t get me wrong, that is a wonderful quality for a shinobi to possess, but Tenten found she no longer needed that. Well, not as much anyway. Her pragmatism had helped her solve countless problems successfully in the past, and it was one of the reasons she and Neji worked so well together. They were both sensible, if not a little hard headed at times, and they understood each other. To their friends, it always seemed like those two were moving in a rhythm inaudible to everyone but themselves. They were best friends, in every sense of the term. They somehow always knew what the other was thinking, and what to do. And part of that was because they were similar in that way—stubborn, sure, but willing to compromise when the situation called for it.

Pragmatic.

Which is why Tenten says her pragmatism helped her in the past, but she would be the first to admit that it also held her back from many things.

‘It would be too difficult,’ or, ‘Our backgrounds are too different.’ Or perhaps even the worst one, ‘We’re probably better off as friends.’

All things Tenten had said to herself in the name of being realistic. Pragmatic.

All excuses Tenten used to hold herself back from doing what she wanted to do, just for the sake of it. Shinobi fell in love. It was nothing unheard of—I mean, they were human after all. It was expected, even. Everyone was harrowingly aware of the risks being a shinobi entailed, and for most, quitting was not an option, so it was up to them to decide whether or not they would pursue a romantic relationship. 

It was up to them to decide which they were going to sacrifice: a chance at love, or their career. Because, in their world, it unfortunately had to be one or the other.

The choice was obvious. The pragmatic choice was obvious.

And both Neji and Tenten were pragmatic.

So they chose their careers.

When faced with the choice of being best friends and continuing to toe that line like they’d been doing for so long, or being lovers, and discovering an entirely new part of themselves—tasting an entirely new flavour they hadn’t even known existed—they chose the former. Because it was always one, and never both. And that was fine, for a while.

In fact, if that had been the end of it, Tenten imagined, perhaps terribly and selfishly, then maybe the aftermath of his death wouldn’t have been as hard. And maybe that made her a terrible person. Maybe she was terrible for wishing he’d never confessed and they’d never kissed. Maybe she was terrible for wishing he hadn’t given her a taste of what she longed for for so long, only to cruelly take it away before either of them were ready. And she knew it wasn’t his fault, but part of her couldn’t help but blame him. And maybe that made her a terrible person; she didn’t know.

But for now, she was content with doing small, pointless, impractical things like putting on another coat of mascara, just for the sake of it. She’d swallow the lump in her throat and put on a brave face and walk out, and she’d do things just because she wanted to. Just because it made her feel better.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

They’d both shown up.

“Hey,” she greeted, once she’d spotted the two green-clad men waiting by the entrance of the restaurant. She’d gotten there a few minutes early, but here they were, arriving even earlier. 

“Tenten!” It was Lee.

While Lee had jumped at the opportunity of this dinner, craving the nostalgia like it were a physical thing, Tenten was a bit hesitant. Still, they had both shown up. She smiled. How very predictable of Team Gai.

Maybe things weren’t that different after all.

It was awkward at first. After exchanging pleasantries, they entered the restaurant and took their seats at the reserved booth. The thought of making small talk with people that were once so engraved in each other’s very being was unbearable. The view of the vacant seat at the table was also unbearable—it had been so long since they’d met up like this for dinner that, when Gai-sensei was making the reservation, he accidentally asked for a table for four instead of three. Force of habit.

But they managed.

“How have you been, Tenten?” Gai asked, voice mellow. Him and Lee had remained pretty close through it all, partly because of Lee’s self-imposed duty to care for Gai most of the time, and partly because those two had always had a special bond that not even Neji and Tenten could get between. Tenten shrugged noncommittally, replying with that customary reassurance that made it seem like she was very busy while simultaneously downplaying whatever it is she’d been busy with since she’d last seen them. He nodded kindly, and the three of them started chatting mindlessly about nothing in particular. It was obvious that they were ignoring the elephant in the room. Neji’s loss—his absence at this table—was so palpable it was almost taking up the space of the would-be conversation.

“I miss him,” Tenten sighed, almost bluntly. Flippantly. She didn’t know what reaction she was expecting, but the willing avoidance was getting suffocating. She knew everyone was thinking that, so why didn’t anyone say it?! Why couldn’t anyone give her that relief? Why was everyone—her included, she realised belatedly—so hell-bent on forgetting him, when he had been such a core part of who they were for so long? She missed him. She missed talking to him— about him. She didn’t like that no one brought him up anymore, as if he’d never even existed. He deserved to be celebrated and remembered, for God’s sake! That was the least they could do for him.

“Me, too,” Lee murmured, uncharacteristically resigned. “It’s unbearable, most days.”

Immediately, pressure built up behind Tenten’s eyes, and she vaguely regretted putting on more mascara. “Yeah,” she whispered, almost in wonder, “it is.”

And surprisingly, that was what broke the tension.

Or maybe it wasn’t surprising or weird or unexpected. Maybe that made perfect sense. Because Team Gai was never one for stuffy formalities or beating around the bush—they knew each other too well for that.

Gradually and ever so tentatively, the dinner took on an air of normalcy, and things were almost like the old times—almost. They were able to actually speak to each other again for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, without being snappy or short-tempered, or feeling like their words weren’t reaching through to the other person. They were finally able to acknowledge their loss together, and weirdly enough, it made them feel lighter than they had in ages.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“It’s getting late,” Tenten yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “We should probably go before we get kicked out.”

With a frown, Lee responded, “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

They, reluctantly, said their goodbyes. She’d originally thought this would be awkward, but she realised with a pang as she was walking away that she didn’t want to go. 

“Tenten!” Lee called out from a distance away, and she turned around.

“What is it?” she called back.

“Don’t be a stranger.”

Her breath hitched, and the only thing she could do was nod vigorously and hope he saw it.

She would be okay. They would be okay.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

A Mystery is a Foot

Past =-= Next

Author's notes: More of Alpharius in Living Waters AU

Warnings: None, let me know if you need me to add anything.

Summary: Zariel and Zarius has noticed that they are two short on Scoutlings. And that they seem... more distracted and distressed than simply worried for the Gannet Harpies, they try to investigate: Jophiel briefly speaks with Erriox. Then he's harassed by some Alpha Legionaries.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Jophiel got a message on his vox from Erriox that he was helping Lenora pack up and leave the area, until it was safer to reside once more due to the temperament of the Sons of Dorn in black and white.

“I’m with my brothers, who are helping the Gannet Harpies,” Jophiel says carefully. “Pack and move to a safer cliff, away from the Black Templar Shoal that has just arrived in these waters.”

Which is true- he is with his brothers, nearby the Gannet Harpy Colony. And his brothers are helping the Gannet Harpies get ready to leave the area to avoid notice from the shoal of Black Templars.

Not-lying is something that is very tricky, and more than half the time, Erriox notices the grox-shite. But- since he’s more distracted with helping Lenora, and he doesn’t sound overly distressed, and it's unlikely for the shoal of Black Templars to attack Jophiel- who’s a fellow Space Marine, and of a loyalist faction, that tend to not be hostile with them, it was something that had gone over well.

He heaves a tired sigh rubbing his face, and mentally praying to the god emperor that Claude is able to escape the Bastard who’d stolen him away. Ostensibly because of Claude’s uncontrolled psychic powers. 

His hands shook a little as he remembered how that particular trainer would teach his students. The poor bastards- of which he’d been one. Briefly, for some reason, for Primaris Blood Angels, or those who have the gene-seed of the Ninth Holy Primarch it had been deemed best to not have them trained overly harshly. 

Something about instabilities in their gene-seed making it an exceptionally poor idea, even though they have chimeric gene-seed with other, more stable gene-line(s). Supposedly. At least, that was what they had been told.

Jophiel blinks and turns, sensing movement and scowling darkly at the nosy bastard of an Alpha legionnaire who is staring at him. More accurately, at his bandaged wings and he scowls at the - fuck- it’s the team lead and supposed Apothecary- ‘Zariel’.

“What do you want?” Jophiel growls, uncharacteristically, growly.

“Just noticed that there were only three, not five of you Scouts,” Zariel says slowly, “And that there seemed to be something bothering the ones that were helping the Colony to avoid the notice of the shoal of Black Templars that have arrived in this area.”

Zariel notices the wings- how they were bandaged- and the way the younger space marine holds himself. Someone or something broke his wings. Also- the skittish Claude is… not there- or with the Gannet Harpies.

“Where is Claude?” Zariel asks.

“Fuck off!” Jophiel snarls, his red eyes flashing. “You don’t actually care. You just want information!”

“I think that’s rude to say,” Zariel says with a frown- Jophiel seems unusually defensive, granted he is injured, but he’d thought that his squad and slowly been getting the large, powerful and frightfully skittish Scouts to start to relax and trust them a little.

What happened to have that slight trust revoked? Who- or what had hurt Jophiel so bad? Zariel had plenty of other questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t have much time, and its unlikely Jophiel or the others will answer.

Zariel takes in a deep breath and says, “I do care- and I do want information.”

“Pull the other one, you don’t actually care,” Jophiel snorts bitterly, and bites off the rest of the sentence. Most First Born Marines don’t care for us Primaris Marines. “Just go back to tending to Lana- we take care of our own.”

Especially with one of the Known Primaris Killers- a Chaplain Captain of the Black Templars in this area- they are in particular danger. Especially Ramiel and Cedric- as the bastard loves to target Primaris Scouts of his same gene-line.

“I am going to get Mara- and some of the healers,” Zariel says, and blinks in surprise when Jophiel growls at him. Again. Usually Jophiel tends to be one of the most gregarious of the Scouts.

“Cedric’s fixed me up, I’ve had a potion,” Jophiel says, “All that’s needed is time to heal.”

“Who did this to you?” Zariel asks.

“Fuck. Off.” Jophiel hisses, “I don’t have to tell you anything. Go help Lana evade the damned shoal of First Born Black Templars.”

“My brothers are doing that,” Zariel responds, only a little frustration leaking into his tone. “If there is another threat I should know about, you should tell me.”

“Why?” Jophiel asks, “the threat won’t go after you he…” 

Jophiel bit off the rest of the thought and turned away from Zariel- still keeping the older space marine in his peripheral vision, not trusting the other with fully looking away from him. Not with himself so injured and a visceral and personal reminder of just how brutal First Borns can be towards uppity, mouthy, disrespectful primaris marines. He’d gotten too used to Erriox’s brand of indulgent, yet firm handling.

“... Does this threat have Claude?” Zariel deducts, “and why does he have him?”

Jophiel twitches at that. Damn. The throne-cursed Alpha legionnaire certainly is annoyingly observant and deductive. Nothing less for the best of the spy-craft chapters. Zariel had sent a message to Zarius- who’d asked Mara to come with him to speak with Jophiel who was down on the beach.

Mara flies down with Zarius to see what Zariel and Jophiel are up to- there is a sense of urgency within her colony. They need to leave before the Shoal of Black Templars notice them, and  decide that they are not worth living, simply because they are alive. 

She had noticed that Jophiel and Claude hadn’t come up to help the Colony with efforts to move, when the rest of them were here. Also she had noticed how distracted and distressed the trio of fledglings are, more than just concern for what might happen to their Gannet Aunties.

She notices Jophiel’s defensive posture- and the bandages on his wings- and she trills out to him in concern, “Fledgling- what happened to your wings?”

Jophiel turned to face her, “... a territory dispute ended not in my favor.”

Which is… partially true- but he’s not telling her something, from the way his eyes are downcast and he refuses to look at her more than a brief glance, eyes darting around. She hums a little as she looks him over, carefully approaching the skittish youngster.

“I see, those can be painful and upsetting to lose,” Mara says, “Where’s young Claude?”

Jophiel seemed to sink in on himself and his mouth opened and closed, like he was about to say something, when Zarius moved and he scowled fiercely at both of the Alpha legionaries and shook his head. Not wanting to say anything- while they are nearby, but also he doesn’t want to not-warn Mara of the threat of the Trainer-not-to-be-named. 

But he equally doesn’t want to talk about Him while the Alpha legionnaire bastards are close enough to hear and get the information. Claude had spoken to them of… certain secrets that he’d hidden since his aspirant days.

It had been surprising, but they had accepted Claude for who and what he was long before this little thing, of him knowing what his gene-line make up is. Since Claude didn’t want them to know, if the first born alpha legion hears of who has Claude, who knows what they’d do.

Jophiel hopes that Claude’s particular brand of chimeric gene-seed will be able to help him escape and evade the Knight of Grey. Raven guard’s stealth, Night Lord’s Sight and Alpha legion changeable nature. 

He hopes Claude won’t … well. Decisions on what to do, and how to rescue him, if it is possible to. Jophiel and the other’s have to try- so that Claude knows that they haven’t, and won’t abandon him. 

Certainly they wouldn’t actually help them. Not without cost- and one that might be too dear to pay. Mara notices the scowling and turns to Zariel and Zarius and says, “Why don’t you boys go help Lana, hm? I’ll talk with young Jophie privately.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Although their expressions twisted a little- their honed instincts for knowledge wanting to stay and listen to what the Scout really doesn’t want them to know. 

But they are still on a short leash for the grox-shit that they’d pulled with them not approaching openly and honestly. So they head off, swimming through the air to help Lana and the other Gannet Harpies with packing up to escape the notice of some of the most temperamental and hostile sons of Dorn this squad of alpha legionaries have ever had the misfortune to come across.

“I wonder where young Claude is,” Zarius murmurs, “And who or what managed to break the wings of a Blood Angel. Scout though he is- he’s big, powerful and a Librarian. We’ve tussled with him before, he’s no slouch in hand to hand combat.”

“So- who could do that to a Scout Blood Angel? And why?” Zariel continues on with the line of thought. “And where is Claude? He fusses over his brothers almost as much as the Apothecary and Chaplain do.”

“For that matter, where the fuck is the rest of the Scoutling Ultramarine’s squad of blue berries?” Zarius muses, “They almost never are in groups of less than five at his age. Yet all he has is this mixed group? That seems… strange and unusual. Especially with how many rare specialties are in this squad of scouts.”

“Why are they avoiding their older brothers in their legions?” Zariel asks out loud, and they look at each other. “Since there is a shoal of Black Templars in the waters, unless they don’t want to join up with them. Scoutlings Cedric and Ramiel could find easy acceptance into that shoal. Especially with Cedric being an Apothecary and Ramiel a Chaplain. Black Templars really covet their Chaplains, more than most chapters.”

They have many questions, these Scouts are certainly a mystery which is something that Alpha legionaries both love and hate. Love because figuring things out is what they do, hate, because of the frustrating lack of information that they get from the Scouts.

Hopefully Mara, in her wisdom, might share what the flying fuck is going on with the Scouts. Other than her and Lana scolding them for teasing and mildly bullying Claude. They just wanted the skittish Raven Guard to ease up around them.

Also- names. Who hurt these Scouts so much that they are so distrusting of older cousins? Granted, the Alpha legion does not have the best reputation, still, Scouts their age should have an instinctive urge to trust older brothers, which these scouts do not. Such mistrust is learned through experience.

[luka-couffaine-ship-tournament]

Round 1 Side A - Pair 1

CAMPAIGN

Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

-They‘re just so good for each other. Luka is such a calming presence in Marinette‘s chaotic life and helps her relax when she feels anxious and unsure of herself, always willing to be there for her and offer a helping hand during tough times. Marinette has a deep appreciation not only for Luka‘s ability to play music but also hear heart songs, as if she understood immediately what he meant after listening to him play for the first time. They feed off each other‘s creative energy and are just generally so wholesome together. I could talk about them forever, they make me so happy!!

-Luka is the best boy, and deserves love from the girl he adores

-I just woke up and am too lazy to think of words for my favorite couple so here's some gifs as propaganda

Gif de gifs-misc

Gif de bizarrelovesquare

Gif de notasiren21

Gif de ouiladybug

Gif de kochengnoir

Gif de jeldraximo14

Gif de notasiren21

Luka Couffaine/Sabrina Raincomprix

-Listen, Sabrina needs someone who treats her well, she needs someone who considers her an equal and someone to show her what real love is like. And I truly and honestly think that she would try her best to understand and appreciate Luka but who he really is (if she can see the good in Chloe she is capable of seeing a God when she meets one)

-Vote lukabrina people. We cant lose this!

-This is just unfair we need to help our girl out!

I'll start!

Item Number One: Viperhound Is S Tier

This is the fucking duo right here, this is endlessly clever and positive tag team action, this is a pair who will NOT fail the mission alright?

They are designed so interestingly parallel and then put right next to each other in this sweeping shot of the new miraculous squad???

Like, am I supposed to not assume something about it??

Item Number Two: opposites contrast

Orange and Blue, extremely Sun and Moon energy, but I don't think that would make this ship sail smoothly. See, Luka likes being a moon. He is happy to support and enjoys being someone's shining beacon in the endless dark of night, and no one needs that kind of anchor to hold onto more than Sabrina right now. Sabrina cut ties with her best and only friend and while we see her hanging out with other classmates just fine, we don't really know how she is with being actual friends with people. I don't think anyone has tries to reach out to her since evillustrator and we saw in that episode how she approaches new potential connections. Overwhelmingly cheerful and warm and oppressively clingy, like a ray of sunlight that won't leave your eyesight on the hottest day of the year. She means well but, boy, she can be a lot. And more importantly, she needs to be the one helping because, what kind of friend is she if she isn't? Who is she if she's not doing everything for everybody else? It would, amusingly and annoyingly and endearingly, put her into conflict with Luka, who is similarly always pushing his own problems aside to help people with theirs. This would lead them into a loving rivalry of "take care of yourself" "no u" that goes both ways, a back and forth that ends with them reluctantly letting the other help them. And after so many years as someone's shadow, Sabrina deserves to have someone in her orbit, someone she shines a light on when he needs to be seen.

Item Number Three: YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE

Look I'm SORRY okay, but I have to say this even tho I also think their ship got done dirty by the show, I still think they wouldn't have lasted. I think Marinette and Luka being "too easy" is exactly their problem, as even if they didn't have everything else to worry about Marinette needs complexity or she starts to lose her mind overthinking things and goes looking for it. The simple nature of her relationship with Luka is what 13 year old Marinette needed, the Marinette who wasn't Ladybug yet, who hadn't stood up to Chloe and maybe even just had her heart broken in a mean prank. It makes sense she'd fall in love with and gravitate towards this living embodiment of all the comfort and security she wished she had, she had desperately needed at that time. But that's just it, she needed it then. And now she can rely on herself a lot better, she has a whole support system to fall back on, and what she needs from a romantic partner is something else. But Sabrina? She's done horrible things in the name of her friendship with Chloe and even enjoyed some of them, but had finally hit her limit of how much abuse she can both dish out and take herself. Sabrina can definitely recognize that Luka is a good person, but more importantly Luka would have to actually try to sympathize with a person, rather than just immedietely like them. Lest we forget, Sabrina is the one who locked Juleka in the bathroom on picture day. Chloe told her to but Sabrina physically did it. Being confronted with someone who hurt his sister but is, herself, hurting, and is determined to help everyone but herself will be a lot of conflicting emotions for Luka, and Sabrina would need to get used to being the center of someone else's attention in a way not entirely dissimilar to how Chloe was for her, although significantly less codependent.

What makes Lukabrina interesting isn't that they're perfect for each other or that it's immedietly easy.

It's awkward and messy and they clash, they push each other out of their comfort zones and find a new one to settle in together.

It isn't instant or love at first sight, but by resolving their issues with each other through communication, honesty and trust, they are able to become a happy and wholesome couple.

Don't fucking tell me the odds lol, I know they're probably not winning but they deserve a fighting chance. So please feel free to add your own Lukabrina Viperhound propaganda!

TAG:

Luka/Marinette - @mikoriin

Luka - Twitter @Karma_sensei_

@lukacouffaineappreciation

[yurieater69]

YEAAA

One of the things I love about Soldier 11 that I love is the HUGE LORE POTENTIAL she has for the story. I SWEAR she will have some huge stuff getting thrown her way in the story. (if you will allow me to ramble for a quick second) It's obvious that Anby and Soldier 11 are related to eachother, Soldier 11's character teaser prominently shows Anby in a mentor type role TO Soldier 11. It *could* be that Anby formerly held leadership of the Obol Squad before she disappeared/left/whatever happened to her to leave; this made Soldier 11 resentful of Anby, seeing it as a betrayal and THUS why she hates people who betray their own, and then being saddled with the responsibility to head this Squad that Anby formerly led. I am sold on the crackpot theory that Anby and Soldier 11 are clones somehow. Maybe Soldier 11 is the clone of Anby, maybe they're both clones, who knows, but I LOVE THE IDEA OF THAT! It's honestly kind of heartbreaking when you think about it: Consider that you've admired this person, they've taught you *everything* that you've known, they always preach about loyalty, always holding your back, training alongside you. They were cold, distant at time even but that's the cost of being in this group, you get the short end of the stick because you're...not original. You're disposable, but your mentor keeps you grounded, makes sure you're better than what *they* believe. You're far from the perfect soldier, but you'll make it there, so long as you have your mentor guiding you through all of this. ...Then, one day, you never see them again. You hold out hope that they return some day, that they're saddled with some operation that you don't know about. You take over in their absence, regardless of how underprepared you are; you stay loyal to the mission, you devoid yourself of emotion, you do not back down because *that is what they taught you to do.* And every day, that feeling of resentment just gets worse and worse, this bitterness in your chest that seems to stain the past more and more because you *believed* in them, you aspired to BE like them and then they just *leave?* All you've known since you've been trained is that you are lesser than, you are the 2nd option. And every day, it seems like *she* believed that too; were any of those lessons even *supposed* to help you, or was she simply keeping her guard up? Giving you useless lesson after useless lesson because she knew they could replace you. Those moments of coldness, neutrality... This hatred stains you. Regardless of what the true reality is. It stains and does not stop until all you remember is to hate these lessons. Until all you can see is somebody who betrayed you. You'll forever label yourself as some defective, younger version that does *everything* in her power to be that model that you once respected, to be everything that they WEREN'T. To spite her and walk your own path; clone or not be damned. Anyways sorry for rambling in the asks here LMAO as you can see Soldier 11 has occupied my whole BRAIN.

THIS IS CRAZY AHSJDJSJSD YOURE RIGHT THOUGH!!!

did you know soldier 11 and anby also have the eame face model? like exactly , which leads to the clone theory as everyone in ZZZ has different meshes and models

aside fromt he huge lore i find it funny that if they are clones why is soldier 11 just slightly taller like damn they rlly did do anby dirty 😭

[heretherebedork]

Sorry I’m sort of late to the wedding impossible discussion, but some of your posts inspired me to watch it. I just finished episode 3 where it ends with jihan telling ahjeong he’s going to steal her away and….am I supposed to like jihan? Because I don’t, at all. He thinks dohan and ahjeong are in a real relationship right now doesn’t he? He thinks they’re actually getting married bc they want to? Did I miss something where he knows it’s fake? Am I supposed to root for him to destroy his brother’s relationship and life so that dohan can inherit a company and jihan can profit? I recognize I’m early into the show but how are people calling dohan selfish when every single thing jihan has done for the past 3 episodes has been for his own gain? The only redeeming thing he’s done is recognize he was wrong for getting ahjeong that role, but then he kind of messed that up for me by being violent to that worker on the drama. Because sure that guy was an asshole but so are you jihan!!! I don’t think that makes it ok or attractive (it felt like the show wanted me to find it attractive) for jihan to be physically aggressive. At this point I dislike jihan more than i even dislike the older siblings who are clearly supposed to be the villains lol.

I have no idea, anon. None. Don't ask me, I'm part of the Do Han defense squad who's barely watching the het parts of this show frankly.

Ji Han definitely feels like a selfish asshole for the vast majority of the show and, yes, he has some trauma that explains some of his actions but dear lord is he an asshole to Do Han.

From pressuring him to get married and take over the company which Do Han obviously doesn't want and is clear that he doesn't want to trying to seduce the woman he thinks his brother loves to just generally harassing Ah Jeong every chance he gets.

But he's the male lead, so a lot of people are going to just decide that he's Right. No matter what. Apparently.

Or they just assume that being in the closet automatically makes Do Han selfish because that's lying and we can't lie! Nope! No lying here! If you lie to protect yourself, that makes you selfish. /s

Yeah, I hate that.

Do Han was protecting himself and we get to see that he has a reason to do so when his grandfather literally stops him from coming out! There was a reason Do Han stayed in the closet and ran to New York. I still don't understand why his grandfather wants him to inherit the business. He's a gay artist who's been aboard being a gay artist for five years!!! Why should he be any good at business?!

(I saw someone complain that Do Han never let Ji Han visit him in New York and it's like... no fucking duh? Man was living his best gay life out there, he was no about to invite the little brother he was in the closet to into that life both to protect himself and not to force Ji Han to carry his secret as well.)

But, yeah, Ji Han's an ass. And the show tries to redeem him but not for what he did to Do Han until much, much too late for me. And Do Han deserves better.

[lloyd283]

The Demon headmaster 12 Fanfic

Well, after episode 11's end, Lloyd's been rushed to a safe area with panic as he's acting very painfully. Therefore, someone has to enter his dreamscape. No one's really good at that until teodora arrives and offers to allow a squad to enter by using marcella to amplify the power source. gord beckons norma to join ethan, Ryan, and teodora herself. Zoey okuru and mateo will join once inside as dream experts. Through astral projection, our group enters.

They arrive in a memory Vault, with multiple items from places, including Claudia's Dr. mabuse video attire that the previous forger had: 'lucy' zero (1989-2003). Drawings up to 2016 can be seen in glass displays. Outside, the group view the rip the headmaster caused and Lloyd's body trying to repair itself, which causes them to be split into 3 groups.

Norma and ethan enter his 2008 memory, in which norma sees that there were 3 others hit by a dalek blast. We even see the lead up, confirming that marcella got hit with the established ones. For Ryan and zoey, we see his 2010 memory, which has cameos from cbbc shows as well as a cameo from the original headmaster series that isn't the characters you'd expect. Let's say some fun ones like trapped, chucklevision etc, appear through lots of ways. Mateo and teodora see the 2012 memory of Lloyd feeling nemesis's presence through the sub terra commercial, mainly by the red marble, which he thought he lost the year prior. Even Lloyd finds another reality's YouTube and watching a series of videos. Then, a shift brings characters into question.

The pair now see an exchange set during fortnite: wilds, in which kado asks Lloyd for a power source for his katana, already owning the bat miraculous. He gives him his pheonix breaker for his katana (yep, that soul leech effect would've been caused by the breaker). Duo B (ryan/zoey) met Gerald Wolfe (Carmen's dead father) as he teaches Lloyd, who travelled back to train in spy tactics, and mentioned he'd fall when the M.A falls. Zoey does note a key that looks strange, and Ryan detects a strange inner body workings. Duo A decides to reach for one of the zapped, being brought into the person's past as Lloyd looks after a young Brooklynn? He does follow her on socials as a friend, helping her learn some skills as well as teaching her about the chrome (now, they'd also see her original jacket that apparently he's at some point added chrome to make a prosthetic hand, with the ability to defend, lock pick and other dual hand tricks). Shifting slightly forward to 2016 and after his headmaster encounter, Lloyd became a girl until redwood. He's supposed to have been pronounced dead, but in reality, after a rough night, he appeared on brooklynn's home steps, and she took him in just 6 months shy of the camp events and normally living. Before the camp, they part as brooklynn leaves for camp, and Lloyd finishes a video to be unlisted that norma is able to grab on a USB, being really in her hand, but gives it to ethan. Duo B sees Lloyd after the nemesis encounter, being to struggle with coursework and attending a certain event in Orlando. Next, around Christmas, Lloyd fell in love with a girl named cait and actually kissed on a festive boat ride. They hug and help each other, with cait being the only one to know Lloyd would still be alive, and return on valentine's day (brooklynn helped pick the flowers). Duo C see 2017's redwood rift and events play out, with them seeing what Lloyd did during it, even the bit in another fanfic entry 👀.

However, things don't last as Duo B now see what you've been waiting for, the 2018 incident. On that July day, a travelling show arrived at the school, which left a particularly messy trail behind them and Lloyd was uneasy, with cait calming him down, and we actually see Lloyd in different attire since nemesis (not counting his 1st version of the usual clothes or when Lloyd was in brooklynn's house). In a weird sequence, we see Lloyd actually enjoy being messy with cait which deviates from what we know of him. Eventually he goes to the bathroom and overhears a plan to cause chaos again at this school like the others by impulse sound waves. Therefore, he goes to deal with the plot whilst everyone's in the hall, awaiting the grand finale. The plot gets foiled, but a soundwave hits cait and she falls to the ground motionless as the MI6 arrive to arrest the show, but Lloyd's trying to wake cait up, to no avail, as they ask him to part with her, but he won't, starting to cry before creating a chilling wail that caused them to back off as he carries her to the first aid room. A paramedic confirms cait is dead, from the brain side failing and Lloyd asks what can be done, not taking no for an answer and the memory glitches whilst we hear MI6 people screaming loudly and weapons hot before we see a disturbing sight as Lloyd leaves the first aid room to fire and bodies with grotesque injuries that we don't fully see. (There would be an 15A version posted shortly after for those dick enough to view it). Duo A see a flaming car wreck that brings banging hands on a closed window and the same Lloyd screech in the nearby woods...

Duo C finish the episode as we see before everyone leaves, after some 2019 events, Lloyd tracks the other headmaster in a school and pulls a shotgun on him, which is highly irregular behaviour with Lloyd and he has to get Lloyd to back down and retract the weapon. You see, the headmaster there believes the rogue one will enact a deadly prophecy, unless the O.A stop him, but Lloyd says he can't do shit whilst emotionally torn so bad, so for helping him, the demon headmaster grabs a vile stun rod to allow him to redact traumatic memories from his head as he tells Lloyd to imagine his pain like a tidal wave and he'll quiet the lake. Norma views from a monitor of a van on the crash site, before something pulls her...

[0-commonsence]

CONTEXT: INDEPENDENT WRITING CLASS

TOPIC: SHORT STORY.

In the land of Zeelin lives four kingdoms, Asta - the land of magic, Clover - the land of merchants, Diamond - the land of creatures, and Pearl - the land of the people. Within the forest that borders the four kingdoms lives New Elfs, three elf tribes. Zo, Rei, and Chlo. In the heart of New Elfs lives a family who hosts a daughter, Aiko. She’s the main character of this story.

Aiko sat perched atop a branch, bow loaded with an arrow, aiming for the red spiral a couple yards away. Akio pulled back the string of the bow, locking in on the target. “3... 2…” Aiko mumbled, squinting her eyes a bit as she focused solely on the target.

“Aiko!” Aiko jumped, releasing the arrow. It went completely off its original course. She looked down at Zuko, the menace who she somehow befriended. He only smirked in response, leaning against a nearby tree. Aiko sighed, seeing his smirk. “You’re annoying,” Aiko stated as if it was a fact as she jumped down from the branch.

“Uh huh...but y’know you love me.” Zuko teased, some of his red, fluffy hair moving softly in the breeze. Aiko’s own soft, green strands moved with the wind, her tan skin glistening under the limited sunlight. They’re in a forest after all, surrounded by evergreen trees. Akio rolled her eyes at Zuko’s statement. She slotted her bow back into its pouch with its arrows, it being secured with a brown strap across her torso. “Come on, Mami’s making potato, bean, and rabbit meat soup. She’ll be upset if we’re late.” Aiko informed, adjusting her blue tube top as well as her pink and blue kilt to sit atop one of her hip bones. The breeze blew softly, rustling the leaves of the evergreen trees.

“Yeah, I know.” Zuko huffed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his blue shorts. “One time, she shot an arrow over my head when I came back late.” Zuko continued. Mya, Aiko’s mom, is a bit hot-headed, but she cares. Zuko and Aiko soon started making their way through the forest of evergreens, a comforting silence overtaking the once active atmosphere. As they walked along the thick forest floor, Aiko began to get lost in her thoughts.

‘The annual exam is in three days. People from all over Zeelin will be coming to apply, to take the exam to get into Winix Academy. I just hope I can pass.. That I can get into at least class A. I’m aiming for class S, but I’ll hope for class A. See, Winix has a system. The higher the class you get into, the closer you get to working under the king. Vin Vinsawn. You get the option to join his knight squad, svijetao, once you get to class S.’ Akio’s knocked from her thoughts by Zuko.

“Y’know, I heard from a Chlo that Vin Vinswan is supposed to be overlooking this year's exam.” Zuko piped up as they walked up the stone steps leading to their home. Aiko sighed, hearing that. She doesn’t need another reason to be even more nervous than she already is.

“Hey..” Zuko started, gently grabbing her shoulder before they reached the wooden door of their family home. Aiko lifted her gaze from the floor to Zuko’s own blue eyes. “You’re gonna do great, okay?” Zuko whispered, his tone as comforting and gentle as he could muster. He’s seen her combat skills. And her archery skills? She can hit any target presented to her, moving or not. She’s just as great, if not better, than a magic wielder.

Aiko let out a shaky breath, parting her lips to speak. Before she could get a word out, the door opens, revealing Mya, Aikos mom. Mya stands in the doorway, her hands on her hips. “Aiko Mojca Zo. How many times do I have to tell you that you're amazing?” Mya scolded, her white locks up in a braid. Her piercing amber eyes -that match Aiko’s own- locking on the fifteen year olds form. She rarely used full names, and when she does, it's bad. The sounds of the grass crumpling and voices talking filled the three ears for a few seconds, other elfs going about their day.

Aiko huffed, locking eyes with her mom. “Yes, Mami. I know.” Aiko sassed, giving her mom a ‘I know, you’ve told me’ kinda look. Zuko looked between the two before letting out a small chuckle. Mya sighs, grabbing both of the two and dragging them inside by the forearm.

“You two need to eat. The exam is in three days, right?” Mami said, flicking her wrist and making the two appear in the green kitchen chairs. Their home kitchen isn’t big, but it isn’t small either. A furnace is sat on a gray back wall, used for preparing hot foods. Overtop is a big black pot, letting the aroma of the potato, bean, and rabbit meat soup fill the home. Aiko’s family home is in the heart of New Elfs. It’s a small, two floor, stone cottage with flowers decorating the window sills outside.

Aiko slumped in her chair, but didn’t argue. She knew better. Last time she did that, Mami used her for attack magic practice. Zuko sat next to her, immediately grabbing a spoon once a bowl was placed down in front of him. He didn’t waste time either, eating a big spoon full of soup. Once a bowl is placed down in front of Aiko, Mami gives her a kiss on the back of her head, the gesture being gentle and sweet. “You don’t know when you’ll have my cooking again. You should enjoy it. Besides, Papa should be home soon.” Aiko couldn’t help but smile at Mami’s words and sweet affection. Aiko won’t admit this out loud, but she loves it. Aiko gave in, as she always does, and started eating along-side Zuko. That’s how it always goes.

While Aiko and Zuko finished up their food, Papa or Yuri, showed up as Mami said he would. “Mojca! Zu!” Papa called as he walked through the door, his green hair a bit messy from the gentle winds outside. Papa is part of the hunting elfs. They go out during the day to hunt prey for food, in other words, they hunt animals like rabbits, three horned deer, two headed wolves, and red cows. All the tribes, Zo, Rei, and Chlo, take part. Usually, elfs will train to become hunters. More often than not, it’s for food purposes. Sometimes though, it’s for the actual fighting aspect. The will to protect the tribes. Reason being, around 10 years ago, there was a mass assassination on New Elfs. A little more than half were killed that day, including Zuko’s parents. If they aren’t hunters, they usually go to Venna in Diamond kingdom. An academy to hon your magic abilities. It’s not very often an elf will want to work under the king, nor is it common for elfs to work under the king at all.

But this is how it usually is in Aiko’s family home, chaotic. They’ve always had a good family relationship. Especially Aiko and Zuko. They’ve become such great friends, they’re basically family. Scratch that, they are family. Aiko can’t imagine her life without Zuko. And Zuko can't imagine his life without Aiko. They’re practically glued to each other.

That night, Aiko sat in her bed, staring up at the stars through her bedroom window. The gentle glow of the moonlight cast a soft ray of light on Aiko’s soft features. She could only hope that she would pass the exam and get into Winix Academy. Aiko’s dream has always been working under the king, getting into svijetao. Especially since the new rise of Tama. Tama is this group that formed several years ago, their leader is Tooru Harshira.

Aiko sighs, laying back in her bed. She could feel the excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins. Even though the exam isn’t for another two days, Aiko still finds herself unable to sleep properly. Aiko’s gaze flicks over her room, taking in the painted green walls, the soft glow of the light above her bed, and the ivory vines hanging along her ceiling. She hasn’t changed it since she was ten. And honestly? She doesn’t want to leave it either. Aiko pulls her white covers over her thin frame, closing her eyes. She’ll just have to take it all in while she still can. Soon, sleep took over and Aiko’s soft breaths filled the room.

It didn’t take long for those two days to pass by. Eventually, it was time for Aiko and Zuko to head off to Asta Kingdom. That morning, Mami made them a special send off breakfast. “Aiko. Zuko. Do be careful.” Mami inquired, her tone soft and worried as she set their plates of pancakes topped with strawberries down. Zuko, as usual, dug in right away. Aiko huffed an amused laugh at Zuko’s behavior. She loved the little glutton. Aiko picked up a fork and began eating. She swallowed a piece of pancake before responding to Miami.

“I will, Mami. Though, I can’t say the same for this impulsive gluten over here.” Aiko’s gaze went over to Zuko, who’s scarfing the pancakes down. It seems Aiko’s words don’t exactly reach Zuko’s ears since he just keeps eating. Mami, however, lets out a small giggle.

“Yes, he is quite the glutton.” She mumbled softly, before going back over to Papa who is currently crying crocodile tears. Papa gets really emotional at times, and it seems that this is one of those times. Aiko contines eating her breakfast, wanting to savor it because it’s the last bit of home she’s gonna get for awhile.

Surprisingly, the four make it to the edge of New Elfs. Aiko and Zuko stand at the gate, looking at the forest beyond that leads to Asta. Mami lets a warm smile make its way onto her face as she watches her two children. They’re all grown up, getting ready to leave on their own. Papa wipes a tear from his eye, sniffing a bit. As much as he doesn’t want to see them go, he’s proud of what they are and of what they choose to do moving forward.

“Mojca. Zu. You’ll do great.” Papa whispers, just loud enough for the two to hear. Aiko and Zuko turn around with big grins on their faces, excitement coursing through the both of them. Aiko gives Mami and Papa a gentle wave, “Volim te, Mami. Papa.” Aiko’s voice is soft and caring for this moment of affection and love. Aiko’s green hair is up in a beautiful, soft braid, exposing her pointy elf ears. Her bow and arrows secured with a brown strap across her torso, her blue tube top in place with light straps on her shoulders, her pink and blue kilt in place by a black string hugging her right hip bone, and her lace up back flats secured on her feet.

Zuko on the other hand.. “Volim te! Mami! Papa! Volim te!” Zuko practically yells, waving his hand aggressively. Zuko’s red hair moves with the soft wind, his torso bare with only a black string with a blue gem hanging around his neck and his own bow and arrows secured around his torso, blue shorts worn at his hips, a green kilt atop one of his hip bones, and black flats secured to his own feet. Aiko can’t help but smile at Zuko’s energy. He’s always so lively and hyperactive. It’s adorable, really.

Papa, however, only gets more emotional at this. He can’t hold back his tears any longer. Papa turns and wraps his arms around Mami’s waist, hiding his face in her neck. Gentle sobs could be heard from Papa as his shoulders shook slightly. Mami only laughs softly at Papa, running her fingers through Papa’s hair with one hand, and rubbing his back with the other. Mami looked at Aiko and Zuko before nodding with a smile, signaling that they could start their new journey to Asta, complete the exam, and get into Winix Academy. Aiko and Zuko both let out soft laughs at Papa’s behavior. He might be a bit of a crybaby at times, but he’s strong and good-hearted.

With soft sighs, Aiko and Zuko turned back to the forest beyond the New Elfs gate. Aiko held the strap of her bow and arrows, looking at the path in front of her with determination. She will be strong, and she will get into Winix Academy. Aiko glanced at Zuko, who’s already walking ahead in confident strides. She shook her head lightly before following him down their new path. They both will. She knows it.

The further they get from New Elf’s, the more Aiko finds herself lost in her thoughts. Aiko’s amber eyes stared loosely at the ground as she walked ahead, watching the leaves crumple under her feet with every step. ‘Soon, we’ll get into Asta. Take the exam. And get into Winix Academy. I know we can do it. We’ll make it. We’ll make it in. Then, we can join svijetao together.’ Aiko suddenly feels a pinch on her side. Aiko’s head shoots up and she punches Zuko on the shoulder, not hard, but enough to make him let go.

“Hey! That hurts, y’know!” Zuko whines, a mock pout on his face as he rubs his shoulder. Aiko doesn’t even spare Zuko a glance, keeping her head forward with a small smile on her face. Aiko clasped her hands behind her back, walking ahead of Zuko a bit. Zuko only pouts further at being ignored. Zuko quickly catches up with her, popping up behind her with a pout.

“Hay, Aiko!” Zuko whines again. Aiko doesn’t respond, instead only walking forward as if she can’t hear him.

A few minutes later. “Aiko!” Nothing.

An hour later. “Hey!” Nope.

A long walk later. “Hello!” Aiko only continues walking, the sound of leaves crumpling following her.

Finally, Zuko uses the only thing he can think of.

“Mojca?” Zuko tries, using Aiko’s middle name in hopes she would stop whatever game she’s playing. Aiko stops in front of a huge metal gate, before turning around towards Zuko. Aiko has a huge smile on her face, her tan skin looking sun kissed under the open sunlight. Aiko unclasped her hands from behind her back, motioning towards the gate.

“I present you…Asta!” Aiko says loudly, barely containing her excitement. Zuko’s eyes widen once he sets his gaze on the land before him. The huge metal gate is open, revealing the mass of people walking along the kingdom. There's shops, homes, and roads with carriages. Most importantly, there's the king's castle and Winix Academy. The castle stands in the background of Asta, its white wall standing tall over the land, two buildings with pointed roofs on either side of a much larger building with a somewhat flat roof. Winix Academy stands tall with purple walls and a gray gate surrounding it.

“Woah...we’re actually here!” Zuko exclaims, his excitement matching Aiko’s own. Zuko’s own dark skin beaming with the soft glow of the open sun. Zuko’s red hair lying messily on his head. Aiko grabs the brown strap of her bow and arrows with one hand, staring at Zuko with a soft smile before grabbing his wrist, making him look at her.

“This is where it begins. Come on, the exam starts soon!” Aiko insisted, turning around, pulling Zuko along and into the gate. They’ve officially entered Asta. They start their journey now.

Seas of people crowded the way to Winix. Mostly citizens of Asta, some outsiders too. Asta is a land that welcomes all. Big and small, ugly and beautiful, magic and no magic.

Aiko pushed past them, yelling,

“Excuse me!”

“Coming through!”

After pushing past the seas of people, Aiko and Zuko are met with the open gate of Winix Academy. Aiko lets out a shaky breath, already feeling more nervous now that she’s actually in front of Winix. It’s much easier to imagine her going inside than actually going inside. Aikos' soft green braid cascades down her back, tickling her soft skin as she looks up at the purple walls that are Winix Academy. Aiko feels a sudden squeeze on her hand, causing her to look down. Aiko’s gaze finds Zuko’s hand squeezing hers.

“We’re gonna do amazing. Just breathe, okay?” Zuko whispered, just loud enough for Aiko to hear. Aiko looked up at Zuko, meeting his gaze. Aiko nodded her head and took a deep breath.

“We got this.” Aiko whispered back, giving a gentle squeeze back. And so, the two went inside after writing their names on the examine list.

Inside, they found hundreds of people, if not more. All fifteen years of age. They stood in a large room with pale blue walls, a set of white steps on either side that lead to another floor. Though, one major difference between them and everyone else is the heritage. It’s as clear as day. While Aiko and Zuko wore less than traditional clothing, everyone else wore at least some form of traditional clothing. That’s not what caught Aiko’s eye though. No. It’s the pretty patterns and styles of clothing each person wore. Especially long, flowy dresses some of the girls wore. They didn’t have those back in New Elfs, sadly.

Neither Aiko or Zuko heard the fast, almost angry footsteps coming in hot from behind them. Not until a hand laid on both of their shoulders, pushing them apart harshly. Aiko’s head snapped towards this new presence, getting ready to yell at them about having some manners. Aiko’s amber eyes met annoyed green ones. “You could have some manners, y’know. You can’t just shove people around.” Aiko stated, her eyebrows furrowed. She roughly moved the guy's hand off her shoulder. Aiko’s words seem to have struck a chord within this guy because he scoffed and crossed his arms.

“And what do you know about manners, commoner?” He asked, leaning down, some of his long blonde hair falling over his shoulders. Aiko’s gaze flicked over this guy's appearance. Long blonde hair, green eyes. He wore a black vest, white button up shirt, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. He would be exactly her type if he wasn’t such a jerk. Aiko held the brown strap of her bow and arrows, narrowing her eyes at this guy.

“Clearly more than you.” Aiko voiced, her hands tightening around the brown strap. The guy just scoffed and walked off. As soon as he walked off, Zuko rushed back to Aiko’s side and grabbed her shoulders.

“Are you crazy!?” Zuko whispered-yelled as he shook Aiko a bit roughly. Zuko just witnessed Aiko talk back to Leo Vinswan, the grandson of the king and the son of the headmaster of Winix Academy. Aiko grabbed Zuko's forearms to get him to stop shaking her.

“What? He was being a jerk!” Aiko explained, pointing in the direction of said jerk. Zuko quickly grabbed Aiko’s hand and held it down by her side. Zuko sighed, looking down at the floor then back up at Aiko.

“That was Leo Vinswan. He’s not only the grandson of the king, but the son of the headmaster as well.” Zuko pointed out tiredly. Aiko’s eyes widened, not comprehending that the jerk from earlier is actually related to the king. How can someone so snobbing and full of themselves be related to someone so kind? Before Aiko could say anything, a horn was blown, signaling the attention of everyone.

Everyone's attention goes to the balcony that overlooks the first floor. Aiko and Zuko both follow everyone else's gaze, seeing Estan and Vin Vinswan. The king and headmaster. Estan looks out over the balcony, leaning his hands against it, some of his blonde hair falling over his shoulders. Estans purple suit sparkling in the light as he looks over this year's crowd of examinees. Vin stands next to him, his white robe gently brushing the floor, his gray hair up in a bun. The air is thick with tension. So much so, it’s almost suffocating.

“Welcome to this year's exam!” Estan announces, clearly not as happy as he sounds. His green eyes are piercing and intimidating, his expression is almost blank. ‘That’s probably where Leo gets it from.’ Aiko thinks, staring up at the headmaster and king. Aiko didn’t want to make assumptions though.

“I hope you all do your best. With that being said, the exam for Winix academy will now commence.” Estan finishes. The air gets thick again. Aiko and Zuko look at each other, sharing knowing glances.

And so, the exam commences. The exam has various tests, most of them involving magic. Aiko, being one who can’t use magic, doesn’t get very far. It gets to the point where she’s actually afraid she might not get in at all. Then, a new test presents itself. One where you have to hit a moving target, not just any moving target, one moving at normal wind speeds.

Aiko stands in the middle of the large room, bow and arrow in hand. Aiko’s amber eyes directed at the target. She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath. ‘You can do it,’ she tells herself. Aiko opens her eyes and reels back the string of the bow, eyes locked on the target. Aiko ignores all the eyes on her, instead imagining she’s out in her forest at home, practicing.

Aiko waits for the target to get in line with her arrow a few times. After the third time, Aiko aims and she shoots.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, before the noise of the target stops and it’s shown that she hit it directly in the center. A lot better than most. Half of them couldn’t even hit the target. Aiko smiles to herself, though she knows that the chances of her getting into class A or class S are slim, but it’s not completely out of the question.

Once the exam is over, Aiko and Zuko stand side by side, hand in hand. Aiko takes a shakey breath, squeezing Zuko's hand. Aiko gets a reassuring squeeze in return. Zuko knows Aiko will get in. She has too. She deserves it. She’s worked too hard not too.

A bell being rung can be heard throughout the room.

Aiko and Zuko both close their eyes, listening intently as names start being listed off. Names of people who will get into Winix. Aiko’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest from how nervous she is. Zuko’s own heart feels the same, except from excitement.

Then, Aiko and Zuko hear it.

“Aiko Zo. Zuko Zo. Class A”

This is it. This is where it all begins. Aiko. Zuko. Welcome to Winix Academy.

(Also posted on wattpad, but it's an actual book call zeelin saga.)

[for-the-sake-of-color]

For Mary ann and Jet: 1, 2, 7, 8, 9, and 10

TYSM!!!!! This is for the Edgy/misc OC ask meme [HERE]

Full answers under the Cut

1) What would your oc rather just forget?

Mary Ann: She would probably like to forget the day she realized her and her father were just pawns in her mothers manipulative schemes, and that she would never be able to love herself and carry on fulfilling the expectations of either one of them.

Jet: Would probably like to forget the bits he actually can remember, of the first three days of the first battle of geonosis. Specifically the crater he woke up in dazed and badly wounded, surrounded by what was left of those he considered family, holding the last of them in his arms as they took their last breaths, leaving Jet one of the only survivors of their whole company.

2) What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

Mary Ann: She's a gurlanin shapeshifter who's natural form is a closer to that of a canine marsupial

Jet: Is actually three+ weeks younger than than Kix and is one of the youngest of his own squad despite being their leader.

7) What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

Mary Ann: She was supposed to be even less of a one-off character than Jet is, given she was only originally ever mentioned in passing by a character (jet) who themselves was only a plot device for a single chapter. The second i decided to give her a backstory though, the idea of her being a gurlanin just jumped right out at me and everything else came together from there

Jet: Was only supposed to be a one-off character at a bar (79s) who had briefly gotten some dating advice from my sith OC Nihlus and was reporting back as successful in using that advice. And then I went back to write what led up to that initial conversation and grew to like him SO much that he's technically now the co-lead of the story alongside Nihlus (excluding kix as the siths s/o) and is vitally important to making this story work

8) Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

Mary Ann: Yes Absolutely. She's a shapeshifter than can fully dissapear from not just sensors but the force as well. The full range of a gurlanins ability means she can do pretty much whatever she wants whenever she wants as whomever she wants

Jet: Yea, but not because of him. The rest of his chosen family are all far too good as committing and covering up murders that he couldnt turn himself in even if he wanted to cause there just wouldnt be anymore evidence against him by the time he made it down to the holding cell

9) Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

Mary Ann: Her character playlist isn't bulky compared to some of my others but I do like It's Time by Imagine Dragons

It's time to begin, isn't it? I get a little bit bigger But then I'll admit I'm just the same as I was Now don't you understand That I'm never changing who I am? This road never looked so lonely This house doesn't burn down slowly To ashes, to ashes

It's related to her leaving her homeworld at 70 to get away from her family and all the expectations to settle down and bear children when she wanted to build an actual life for herself where she's free to live as she wishes

Jet: He actually (go figure) has one of my more fleshed out character playlists, the one which I associate with him most being Chalk Outline by Three Days Grace

You left me here like a chalk outline On the sidewalk waiting for the rain to wash away Wash away You keep coming back to the scene of the crime But the dead can't speak and there's nothing left to say anyway All you left behind Is a chalk outline All you left behind Is a chalk outline

Which is of course related to his deep trauma as a result of losing his batchmates in the hundreds, being one of the first units sent to geonisis, and as a result, how he holds no strong loyalties to the republic which he was raised to venerate and uphold.

10) What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

Mary Ann and Jet: oh you have NOOOOO idea how deep I constantly am in the Star Trek AU for Crisis Company where Jet is a Captain of the Intrepid Class ship Venture and Mary Ann is a (post-dominion war) changling, offically the ship Bartender and unofficially the ship counselor. I have soooo much to say about this st au like ALLL the time. Here's (rogue) Captain Jet and his Ship's Main Computer and Tactical War Hologram Nihlus [more here]

[rhyske]

I think Mikhail Viktor disobeyed orders to save civilians. And his original orders were to save Dr. Bard.

I've only ever played REmake 3, so I don't know if this was ever mentioned in the OG. And yes, there might be some filling in gaps we don't ever get to know as players, but hear me out.

Now, I didn't question Mikhail at all initially because neither does Carlos or Tyrell.

But then Death Island came out.

In that movie, we see flashbacks of other U.B.C.S. members, another faction that was presumably just like Mihkail's. Their leader specified that their orders were to ignore civilians. Their targets for rescue were Umbrella employees, no one else. With this, we also see blockades actively keeping civilians within the city, physically pushing against the masses to keep them inside the borders.

Yes, it's very possible that Mikhail got actual orders to save civilians, but if that were the case, why does he use a run down, dead train as his shelter and escape plan? We know that U.B.C.S. has access to military trucks, and it's safe to assume they have helicopters as well due to the ending. We can also assume the normal military is working together with U.B.C.S., so that can also explain the helicopter. Where are the rescue cars? The rescue shelters? Why not try to bring them to the borders of the city, that the movie showed, has military presence?

Because he disobeyed orders.

He didn't tell his squad, because then the fault would go to him and him alone. Carlos and the rest have plausible deniability.

Now, if he has disobeyed orders, then it's safe to say he's either cut his radio off of the rest of U.B.C.S.'s frequencies or is continuing to listen, but considering he doesn't seem to be supplying his team with movements of anything (zombies, other teams, etc), then he's probably tuned out. Which leads to my second point.

Their original orders were to rescue Dr. Bard.

Mikhail knew exactly where he was suppose to be holed up, and only tells his team these "new orders" AFTER the train is back online and primed to go. His priority to get a system going to rescue civilians is working and on its feet. And while the train is gone, what is his team going to do?

Send them to do the original order. This keeps them moving, because stopping to ponder the horrors wouldn't be a good idea. They saved civilians, morale is up, so keep that momentum. Keep the team focused, keep them having a goal to work toward. Once the train is back, ideally Dr. Bard is got and with his safety Mikhail can try to barter for leniency, even more so saving his clueless team because "they still went and did what what higher ups wanted." Besides, normally teams are given new orders once the old ones are complete. It keeps up the ruse.

We know Mikhail watches and makes his own opinions. He sent Nicholai off with the civilians because he didn't trust him. I can definitely see him hearing a dumbass order of "ignore civilians, they don't matter" and responding back with "you're wrong." He died to get those civilians out, after all. To give them a shot at escaping.

[kyber-kisses]

Have a little blurb backstory about my Jedi OC, Asha. I was bored and decided to write a lil something:

Captain Rex x Jedi OC

Deep down Asha knows she remembers the first time she ever saw Rex, then again when she first saw him he was still only a number, his name was hey to be born yet.

Surprisingly though the strongest thing she can recall from the memory is the smell. Kaminos cloning facility smelled medicinal, much like the handful of medbays and hospitals she had been in before. In a way it looked like a hospital too, with its cold white lights and pristine hallways.

Her first thought had been how awful it would be to grow up in a place like it.

The memory is hazy, it belongs to a more youthful mind. She remembers trailing behind her former master as they are given a tour of the facility. It’s barely been a month since she moved up from padawan to full fledged knight, yet she still follows Plo Koon around like lost loth cat kitten.

Her eyes are curious, filled with wonder as she takes in the rounded hallways and their severe lack of color. She’s quiet, hands folded neatly behind her back as she follows Plo Koon, the Kel-dor busy in his own conversation with one of the kaminoans.

That’s when Asha sees the first glimpse of true color since stepping onto the landing platform. The bold red of the clone cadet uniforms are hard to miss as a handful of them are led down the hallway in the opposite direction. They stand barely at the height of her chest. Some of them stay facing forward, others send her and her former master a quick glance as they pass by.

But it’s the one at the back of the group that makes Asha pause in her steps, looking over her shoulder at him. He stands out from the rest with the fuzzy blonde hair atop his head. His expression is neutral as he looks at her, head tilted slightly.

He’s probably never seen a Jedi.

He has paused in his steps to look at her, but a moment later is pulled back to his squad by his number being called. And with that he turns and races to catch up to the departing group.

Neither of them know who the other is in that moment. All they know is that the other stands out from what would be considered regular.

—————————

In the following year the galaxy plummets into war, and Asha is shoved into it without so much as warning. She grew up in the temple with the notion that she would be a peacekeeper but that’s not what the galaxy wants. Instead, like so many others she stamped with the title of General and is told to lead countless clones into battles they probably will not walk away from.

It damages her psyche, even though she does everything she can to make sure it doesn’t. She keeps close to her battalion. She watches over them, because despite everything they are now her family. She protects them in whatever way she can, and when she loses one she lets herself feel the loss.

She’s grateful for Mayday as well. He’s a good commander, he’s patient and he listens to her thoughts when she struggles. She had his loyalty from the moment he was assigned to her battalion. In a way he becomes her first true friend outside the Jedi order.

And then five months into the war, Asha slips up. It’s supposed to be a relatively easy mission but like always something goes sideways. She’s determined to not lose anyone else but in doing so she makes an error and instead loses half her men.

Her action and miscalculation cause an uproar in the both the Grand Army and the Jedi order. She’s stripped of her battalion, her remaining troops divided and shipped off to other legions. Mayday too.

She spends two weeks confined to the Jedi temple as the council decides the next course of action for her. They see her as immature, unfit to lead her own battalion. She’s given two options; become a temple guard or join the 501st as a co-commander.

She’s afraid of getting more men killed and chooses the former, trading out her normal robes of beige and green for the stiff white and gold uniforms of the guards. She doesn’t talk to anyone for several weeks. She retreats in on herself, blaming herself for the actions that got her to this point.

And then Anakin fucking Skywalker has to go and get himself injured and that one small action uproots her life all over again.

[jrpneblog]

North End fail to sting the Hornets

A disappointing 0-0 draw at Vicarage Road was the outcome on 2024 Gentry Day as 2024 fans travelled to Hertfordshire to celebrate our annual event. North End probably had the best two chances of the game through Hughes and Keane but the home side were easier on the eye in a real dour mid table Championship encounter. I thought that a patched up midfield did pretty well on the day and that defensively North End looked generally sound enough. However at the other end of the pitch I thought we lacked the presence needed to worry a solid Watford defence and I suppose a no score draw was probably the most likely result given the way that both teams set up.

Ryan Lowe made three changes to the side beaten at Birmingham on Monday afternoon with Cunningham, Storey and Osmajic replacing Frokjaer, Holmes and Mawene. North End started brightly enough and Whatmough, playing in the centre of midfield had the first chance o f the game heading wide. Watford then began to settle and played some nice football without creating too many chances. Probably their best chance of the half came when Lewis fired over just before the quarter hour mark when he really should have scored. North End`s best chance of the half came when a cross found Hughes at the back post but the Welshman fired wide and held his head in his hands hardly believing that his first time shot had not gone in the net.

No changes for North End after the break and with a swirling wind slightly in their favour North End attacked their travelling support. North End started well enough but again looked powder puff up front not being able to wrestle with the Watford centre backs. There were a couple of half chances at either end but nothing really to write home about before North End had another great chance with twenty minutes to go. Will Keane hit a first time shot that should have given us the lead but the ball went agonisingly wide and we were left to rue what might have been. Ryan Lowe brought on Frokjaer and Stewart with ten minutes to go but it was too little too late in a game that North End needed to win to keep level with Norwich who are now seven points clear of us and we have just six games left to go in this campaign.

So a slightly deflating draw on the big day of the year for North End and hopes of the play offs are now disappearing into the distance. It looks like we will need to win five out of the last six games to have any sort of shout and with Norwich, West Brom, Southampton and Leicester to come that seems a pretty tall order to me. However it is never over till its over and North End must beat Huddersfield on Tuesday evening at Deepdale or it really is over and the club can put next years season cards on sale on Wednesday Morning. Yes, we had some key players missing but a bit of hunger was missing on Saturday at Watford just at the time of the season when you want your squad to be at its hungriest. We are still in their with a chance but it is a very slender one.

.

WATFORD 0-0 PRESTON

.

WOODMAN 7

STOREY 7 LINDSAY 7 CUNNINGHAM 7

BRADY 7 McCANN 7 WHATMOUGH 7 HUGHES 7

KEANE 6

RIIS 6 OSMAJIC 5

.

SUBS

FROKJAER 6

STEWART 6

.

MOTM: Andrew Hughes

Attendance 19,324

Preston Fans 2,022 (10.46%).

[samhadjblog2]

>This is true. I was trying to say that the general DEI push leads to shit games nobody wants, but upon re-reading my post it seems I forgot to clarify that. My bad.

DEI has been a thing that existed since the 60s. Its not this new thing in the industry. Not to say that its good or bad just that this just been a thing longer the 2010.

>One game that's led to serious layoffs at Rocksteady, including in their QA department that, according to them themselves, is gonna lead to a decrease in quality. And with how much triple a games cost nowadays, not to mention the opportunity cost of 8 friggin' years of developments, the amount of millions this lost Warner Bros doesn't bear thinking about.

From what I've gathered Suicide squad was shifted to a studio that didn't have experience with Multi-person shooters before. Which was something a lot of people were getting tired of. Hence why Concord failed.

>The actual story itself was almost if not completely untouched by them, as can be seen in how women are shown as flawed(Freya, Sif and Thrud) or outright evil(the three Valkyries Odin still has working for him while fatherhood is explored in ways that don't involve copious amounts of bitching about the evils of masculinity. Hell, even the obligatory black Norsewoman Angrboda is shown as having normal human flaws(yes she's a giant, you know what I mean) and goes through an arc involving something other than learning that she was already perfect all along. And Kratos himself even breaks the cardinal sin of modern storytelling by being a man who saves a woman(Freya could not have freed herself from Odin's last curse without his help both in general and specifically fighting Niddhog, which would've just eaten her while she tried to break the curse had he not been beating the shit out of it).

O.k this seems a bit much to assume that SBI weren't involve with the main story. The claim that "Modern stories" have female characters as people with "No flaws" is such weak statement. Because a lot of the time the story "do's" say they are flawed. Now this isn't a defense for poor quality writing just that a lot of stories even the one's "I" don't like make it clear that the female character being presented is seen as a "Flawed person".

This is why I made this post, because to claim that "All stories today put women up while they put men down" is ridiculous. Because a person often isn't intentionally making a bad story and a lot of times they "are" trying to make a good story.And so even with stories "I" don't like. This isn't me telling you that "you are a bigot for disliking this piece of media" no one is. I just don't think righting off a story for having certain elements

I like to think more about a story and try my best to get read of a person's and not just right it off as if its something mindless (Unless its something that's "not" suppose to be deep like smiling friends).

Now bare I'm not saying I solely have an issue with people who berate "Woke" media I also share the same scrutiny towards more progressive voices dismissing pieces .For example I think its ridiculous to call "Batman" a bigot because's he's a rich-guy because that misses the intrigue of who Bruce Banner is as character. As well as his empathy for others.

I think the statement that Attack on Titans is fascist propaganda is also a dumb take this misses the political intrigue as well as its story of the cycle of violence.

I also tired of people who mistake Persona 4's character Kanji as "Gay when he's a more sensitive guy. And Naoto as trans when her story is about conforming to a male work-place.

So note that when I make this statement is a politically neutral

>I wasn't. I was saying that in a more general sense.

My bad then. Sorry

>identify key points within the video rather than saying "just watch all this

Very well then.

At 12:56 he talks about where the SBI controversy began. He go's into how before the SBI list controversy there was already antagonism towards The company. And said that it was wrong the call out the list (Even when the list was still inaccurate)

33:59 He go's over tweets that has a lot of the developers who "did" work with SBI claim that the company didn't force them to include diversity into their games.

45:55 He say's that he is also someone who has made videos critiquing games with woke-political messages that were pushed too-far as well. However that doesn't mean that he buy's into the narrative of SBI influencing the gaming industry

48:16 He then go's over how "Black-rock" isn't play favorites with SBI mainly because the stock market regulations wouldn't allow for this to happen. On top of that a lot of the companies they work with aren't even on the stock-market and so they don't have an ESG score. And even then ESG its such a tiny part of investing, that doesn't even measure ESG scores in any way. And the cherry on top of all of this "Diversity is such a minuscule part of ESG score.

54:12 He go's over the real reason why games today are more progressive with the simply answer being a vast majority of artist are left-leaning and that's it.