#I created him a timeline for his time in the military and how long he's been in town....

[sweet-cuddlebug]

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 19

An: Thanks for your patience, I am so excited about this part!! SMUT WARNING, it gets spicy!

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 6100 (way too long!)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, minors dni, angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of knives, mentions of death.

Photo credit to @ave661

Ghost towers over me, his dark shadow cast upon my cowering frame. Fearful eyes drag over the predator in front of me. How he analyzes my every move. How his black shirt clings to the thick muscle around his shoulders and arms as his chest eagerly heaves with excitement. How his gloved hands clench and release, ready to wrap themselves around me and tear me apart. This is what he was made for. This is the chase that sets him on fire, makes him feel alive.

“Now what’re you going to do?” his voice sounds like it could cut. After his initial attempt, I quickly cornered myself between the wall and the dresser. Now Ghost fills the entire walkway between the dresser and bed, leaving me with nowhere to go. Everything about his posture tells me he’s only seconds away from trying again. I spare a glance at the weapon in my hands and my grip tightens around it. “Your trapped, y/n, what’s your next move?” What the hell kind of training is this?

But I don’t get much time to think. The ambiguous soldier in front of me slowly stalks forward. There’s a vertical slit in his eyes like those of a wild cat who has just identified its next prey.

 “If I wanted to kill you right now, how would you stop me?” he inches closer. My mind falters: the knife. The knife. But I can’t use it. I don’t know how. What if I end up hurting him? I feel my head start to shake, the word “no” at the tip of my tongue. He sees the fear finally catch up. “Use it, y/n,” Ghost urges me.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the words are quiet on my lips. Tension fills my body.

“You won’t hurt me,” his words are immediate and almost cocky. The corners of his eyes crinkle from a cruel smile. Have I forgotten who he is? Don’t I know his reputation? He didn’t take his vest – his main source of protection off for no reason - I’m the furthest thing from a threat to him.

Ghost is done taking his time with me. He lunges forward with his arms outstretched. I make a last-ditch attempt at escaping by leaping toward the bed, but just as my foot touches the mattress a thick arm wraps around my waist and roughly pulls me flush against his chest. His other hand wrestles the knife from my grasp and as soon as the metal is gone from my hand, I feel the strangely familiar pressure of it against my throat.

“You’re not holding the knife properly,” he reprimands. Ghost’s chest pushes into me from behind and I can feel his arms flex as they constrict even tighter.

“Is this your idea of training me?” I bite back. Fear turns to frustration. How is it so easy for him to manhandle me like this?

“Come on, I know you can take it rough,” Ghost’s coarse voice brushes against my ear. “If you let the enemy touch you like this, you’re dead.”

“Then I guess I’m lucky it’s you,” thick sarcasm coats my tongue. I feel the hem of my shirt start to rise above my stomach as the electric heat from his body transfers through my skin. Then, just as fast as it happened, he lets go.

“Here,” he wraps my fingers around the handle in the proper position. “You’re not about to win a knife fight against a member of the task force. Your only goal is to create an opportunity to escape,” there’s a newfound seriousness to his voice. I turn around to meet his eyes. For a moment, I almost know what he’s thinking. If the Ultranationalist tries anything the next time he visits, Ghost won’t be there to protect me. I’ll be all on my own. This, and the wiretaps, are the best he can do.

“Okay,” I resign. “How?”

“You have to draw blood. Lots of it,” his lower lids squint as he gauges my reaction. How capable am I of violence? He hasn’t had the opportunity to witness that yet. If I’m being honest, neither have I. I’ve never been put in a position where I’ve had to hurt someone before. I don’t really know what I’m capable of. It’s a daunting possibility.

“Show me,” I force a nervous swallow as he closes the space between us. I feel my heart rate start to pick up.

“There are only two vulnerable spots that’ll slow him down when he’s wearing a vest,” Ghost starts to circle me. I don’t hear when he stops behind me. But I feel his large hand slowly snake around my hips, stopping on my stomach. His bicep flexes as he pulls me against his chest again. The back of my head is just level with his shoulders and I feel him bow down as the soft balaclava brushes against my hair. “His neck or his gut. Arms and legs won’t work, they’re not painful enough,” a shiver runs down my spine from his chilling words.

“They sound pretty painful,”

“Not enough. You need to do real damage,” the low vibrations of his voice against my skin makes the hair stand on the back of my neck. Ghost presses his fingers into the soft flesh between my hips and moves his hand back and forth in a straight line, tracing the vulnerable area. I can’t help the involuntary gasp that escapes my lips. “This is where you’ll aim. Drive the knife deep into his stomach and drag it across as far as you can. If he tries anything, I want you to spill his fucking intestines,” Ghost’s breathing deepens as he imagines the scene. His fingers press harder into my skin and some twisted part of me wants him to leave bruises, but not with his hands.

“Is that what you’d do?” the words are light on my tongue. Every part of my body he touches feels as though it’s about to combust.

“I will do so much fucking worse, y/n. When this is over and I get my hands on him, his own mother won’t recognize him. They’ll have to use his fucking teeth to identify him,” he growls. The pictures that flash through my mind are horrific. But some part of me likes it – knowing the extent that he is willing to go to for me.

There’s a palatable tension in the air. I can taste it: metallic and salty like iron. Like the desire for violence. Like the static before lightning strikes. I feel it radiating off him in waves that wash down between my shoulder blades. I believe every word from his mouth.

“Let’s try again,” I suggest, changing the topic.

Sweat rolls down my skin as we practise again and again for hours. Ghost lays out several different scenarios, from trapping me against the dresser to pinning me against the bed. He is relentless. But with every touch, every grab and push and shove and pull of hair, every time he presses himself against my hot skin, the desire to feel him in me grows even stronger. Sometimes I think he’s doing it on purpose. Because I know how much he likes to see his hands wrapped around my throat. And I know how he was filled with a jealous type of rage after that man had a knife pressed against the same spot. Every time Ghost’s hands pull me closer, it feels like I’m being reclaimed.

My heart pounds in my ears after so long without a break. When he pulls away after another round I finally collapse onto the floor, just for a moment, just to catch my breath. Ghost looks even taller from this spot as he watches me with his arms crossed.

“Get up,” he huffs, not nearly as out of breath as I am.

“In a moment,” even my voice sounds exhausted. My face is hot and I’m sure it’s flushed.

“I don’t want you lying on the floor,” Ghost grumbles. I feel the corner of my lips twitch at the thought that pops into my head.

“No?” I feign innocence. “How do you want me?”

“Watch your mouth y/n,” he snaps. Ghost steps around me to pace the room, but I don’t miss how he takes the opportunity to adjust his pants when he thinks I can’t see. A warm sense of pride blooms in my chest. He feels the same tension. The same desire as the night in the cabin. Maybe even stronger this time.

“I need to rest for a moment,” I lie my head on the floor while keeping eye contact with him. I can just see the edge of the black paint around his eyes, peeking out from under his mask.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got more in you than that,” there it is again. Sweetheart. I can’t even hide the effect it has on me. I have to bite my lip to stop myself from outright smiling. And it works. He has me up on my feet embarrassingly fast.

“Fine. Let’s go, I’ll win this time,” there’s fresh determination behind my words, but even I know they’re not true. I can tell he’s smirking by the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. Ghost is enjoying this way too much. But I can’t lie, so do I. He knows.

Ghost comes at me fast. I know he’s holding back and yet his power is terrifying. He grabs me by the shoulders and whips me around toward the dresser. One of his hands tries to snatch away the knife, but I hold it just out of his grasp. Then he goes for my neck again as my back presses into the hard edge of the wooden dresser. Ghost is careful about the force he uses. He knows how easy it would be to seriously hurt me right now. His hands lightly hold my throat, just enough to immobilize me, but I know if this were any other man, I’d be in serious trouble right now.

With both hands occupied I take my chance and swing the knife toward his stomach. His eyes flicker down to watch the move. He still has time to stop me, yet his hands remain where they are. I let the tip of the knife gently drag across his shirt.

“You let me win,”

“It’s not ‘letting you win,’ it’s training you to take an opportunity when you have it,” Ghost’s eyes are back on mine, his hands still wrapped around my throat. He could’ve let go almost a minute ago and yet I feel his thumb gently rubbing up and down the tender skin just below my ear. “Besides, I was thinking about something else…” he trails off, a smug smile evident in his voice.

“And what’s that?”

“Places better than the floor,” Ghost keeps eye contact with me as he says this. I feel my stomach drop and that familiar ball of desire starts to form again.

“Better than the floor for what?” I furrow my brows in feigned confusion, but when he glances down my bottom lip is already drawn between my teeth. He knows he has me. There’s electricity in the air between us. Something magnetic simultaneously pulling us together, yet preventing us from connecting. I feel his hands twitch against my throat.

A low hum stems from his chest. “We could do this all night, sweetheart,” Ghost’s eyes darken. We’re close enough that I can see his pupils dilating and my reflection staring back at me in his eyes. I wonder what he sees as he looks at me.

“Yeah?” I murmur. “But we don’t have all night, do we? So, tell me what you want Simon,” my voice is low and seductive. Two can play this game. He pulls me closer. Our foreheads are almost touching as my hands find their place on the sides of his ribcage. The knife is still wrapped between my fingers.

“You already know what I want,” his voice deepens as his volume drops to a whisper. His scent wraps around me and reels me in. The metallic musk is warm and inviting. The scent of gunpowder no longer so alarming, but simply rather a part of him. But there’s something new about him too, something sweet and spicy that I can almost taste, that makes me want to wrap my lips around him and savour every part.

“I want you to show me,”

“I want to,” he barely whispers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” his grip tightens enough that I can start to feel the effects of his hands. My cheeks are flushed and my head feels lighter than before.

“I trust you. Then and now,” I run my hands up his strong arms before tracing the tip of the knife against the mask and along the outline of his lips. Ghost takes the blade from my hand and places it on the dresser behind me. A warm sensation spreads throughout my body as his hands travel down the side of my abdomen, past my hips and thighs, before wrapping around the back of them and heaving me up onto the sturdy surface.

“Are you sure about that?” Ghost asks as he rolls the bottom of his mask up and tucks it out of the way at his nose. My lower stomach turns to static as my eyes latch onto his lips. His tongue darts out across his bottom lip. I think about how soft they’d be as they glide across my own.

Ghost rubs the outside of my thighs as he presses himself between my legs. There’s that unmistakable twinge of desire from the soft pressure. It’s like every time I look at him, the sensation grows and clouds my better judgment. This is dangerous. Everything about him is dangerous. And yet he’s so alluring. When I stare into those dark eyes it feels like someone is draping a velvet curtain around me, completely blacking out the rest of the world. The only thing left, is him.

“Yes, sir,” I don’t hide the teasing smile that crosses my lips. I know how crazy it drives him to hear those words drip from my tongue. My hands travel across his broad chest as Ghost loops his arms around my back. His lips brush against mine tantalizingly slowly. I dwell on the sensation of his warm, damp skin moulding against my own. A fuzzy feeling encases me everywhere until I feel the familiar sharpness of his teeth skirting my bottom lip, revealing what he really wants.

He’s like a dog with a taste for blood. Once Ghost took my flesh between his teeth for the first time, he knew there was no going back. I feel that same hunger now as his sharp canines move from my lips to my neck. The serrated sensation is startling as he attaches his lips to the tender patch of skin just under my ear.

“Simon,” his name escapes as a breathy gasp. My mind starts to slip, but I can’t let him mark up my neck. “Not there.”

He hums against my throat, sending pleasurable sensations through every nerve. I want him to keep going so damn bad. But he can’t.

“He’ll see,” I can barely make out the words.

“Good,” Ghost mumbles against my skin.

“That can’t happen,”

“I know sweetheart,” he croons, slipping his hands under my shirt. “But you’ve no idea how much I want him to,”

“What?” I lift my arms as he slides the shirt over my head and drops it to the floor.

“When I think of those dirty fucker’s hands on you all I see is red. I want to bash his fucking head in until his skull is dust,” Ghost presses a delicate kiss to my collarbone with those vile lips. His hands gently caress my shoulder blades and run down my back, stopping at my bra strap. “If they knew you were mine, no man would dare touch you,” my lungs freeze from his words.

“Yours?” I ask and his head rises. Ghost’s hand leaves my back to cup my face. His charcoal eyes meet my own with an indescribable intensity. They’re incredibly dark and thrilling and full of desire. And there’s nothing like them - nothing like Ghost. The feeling he stirs within me is so unique, so completely irreplicable, that no other person will ever compare.

“My asset,” he rasps. “Mine,” his thumb brushes against my lips.

“Just your asset?” I already know his answer, but I want to hear the hushed words fall from his mouth.

“So much fucking more than an asset,” Ghost presses his lips against mine. I’ve witnessed the violence he’s capable of, so to feel him handle me with such a level of tenderness is all the more significant.

“Show me,” I whisper against his mouth. I feel the sharp breath he draws in and the accompanying hunger.

Ghost’s hands return to the back of my bra and skillfully release the clasp. I let the fabric slide off my shoulders, before dropping it to the ground. It’s almost as if I can physically feel his eyes rake down my body and take in the sight before him.

Ghost hands press against my back, arching me towards him as he bends over to attach his lips to my sensitive skin. I slide a hand up the back of his neck and under his balaclava and wind my fingers through his thick hair. The heat of his wet tongue glides around my nipple and goosebumps rise across my chest. Then I feel that familiar sharpness that causes my breath to hitch and I know he’s about to leave bruises. If anyone ever sees below the hem of my shirt, they will immediately know I’ve been marked - no, branded as his.

He revisits the faded hickeys from the night at the cabin while also adding to the growing collection. The large bruises from all those weeks ago have faded from my torso and legs. So, he paints over them with his own.

As Ghost works his way lower and lower, I reach for the neckline of his long-sleeve shirt and tug it upward.

“Use your words,” his cool breath fans against my hips.

“Please?” without answering me, Ghost pulls his shirt off in one swift motion, baring himself all to me. Last time the only light I had to see was from the glow of the fire. Now, every inch of ink, every freckle, and scratch and scar littering his upper body are exposed. Not a single mark diminishes his magnificence. And while his beauty is altered from war, he is more stunning than any man I’ve crossed paths with before. The power he holds is almost beyond comprehension. Time and time again he leaves me in utter awe.

My eyes drag across the artwork painfully etched into his skin as his lips tease even lower on my hips. The throbbing between my legs intensifies with anticipation. The pictures tattooed on him are a brutal reflection of the horrors he’s witnessed and committed - of the people he’s lost. Like some part of him was afraid of forgetting and this was the only he could ensure he’d remember. My hand is cold against his warm skin as I run it up his arm.

At the same time, he reaches for the button of my pants, unhooking it with just one finger. Careful eyes glance up for permission before sliding them down my legs. Then, he quickly loops a thumb around my underwear and pulls them down immediately after. Ghost rests on his knees as his arms wrap around my thighs and pull me to the edge of the dresser.

The warmth of his lips lightly brushes over the faded bruises on my inner thighs and just when I think he’s about to add more, I feel the heat move up between my legs and press hard against my clit. The mask and black paint frame his eyes as he peers up through my legs with a half-drunken gaze.

“So fucking wet already,” his deep voice vibrates against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Is that all for me, Sweetheart?”

“Yes sir,” the words escape as a whimper. He has me wrapped entirely around his finger. In this moment I would do anything for him. Anything just to feel him touch me, to feel him pulse inside me with as much need as I have for him.

“Atta girl,” Ghost hums and then presses his tongue against my clit in wavelike motions. The pleasure from his movements consumes me as my head is thrown back and I gasp for air. “Look at me, sweetheart. I’ll stop if you don’t look,” and when I do, every feeling intensifies even more.

Ghost traces a wet finger around my entrance before slipping it in as his tongue continues to work in circles. He gently teases another finger before adding it as well, slowly stretching me even more. Simon worries about all the ways he could hurt me; thinks of all the reasons he shouldn’t be trusted and yet I’ve never had someone take the care he does to make me feel so damn good.

The waves of pleasure coursing through my body intensify as he picks up pace.

“Simon,” I plead. “I-I’m close,” the words feel like prayers on my tongue and only one god can answer them.

My knuckles whiten as my hands desperately grip the edges of the dresser. He curls his fingers and hits that perfect spot. Tremors travel through my legs and I feel myself climbing closer and closer.

Simon presses his other hand onto my stomach and adds to the thrilling sensation even more. His starving eyes never leave mine. The vibrations of his soft groans against my very core are almost enough to send me over the edge.

The waves of pleasure grow stronger and the only things I can focus on are those reflective pools of desire. The rest of the world blurs and all that matters is him.

Simon’s fingers curl against me again and every muscle in my body tightens all at once before simultaneously releasing. Yet he doesn’t stop. Even when my legs latch around him and cage him in as I ride my high, he doesn’t stop.

My heart races and with every breath I take, the air feels cleaner, purer. My head feels lighter and a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. And as my body relaxes, Simon stands from his knees. His forearm brushes against my bare chest as his hand wraps around the back of my head and his lips press into mine. I can taste myself dripping from his mouth.

“You’re mine,” Simon murmurs against my skin. The addictive spice of his cologne fills the air. It lingers closer to the nape of his neck and mixes with the heat of his skin.

“Yours,” I confirm. As he pulls away, there’s something different about his eyes, something undeniably possessive.  

Simon wraps his arms under my thighs and lifts me up with ease as my legs wrap around his back. My hands rest between his neck and shoulders. I let my gaze drop to the section of his tattoo that covers his shoulder and half his chest. There’s a collage of objects and events, a line of barbed wire seemingly wrapped around a man in a field. The sudden feeling of falling overtakes my senses and my entire body tenses as my back lands against the mattress.

His hands are still wrapped around my legs as he towers over the bed.

“Fucking hell,” Simon muses to himself. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

I feel that familiar pit in my stomach as he reaches for his belt. The quiet, clinking sound of metal fills the room and my heart rate starts to pick up. The tension in my lower stomach grows again as he moves to undo his pants and smoothly steps out of them.

I never thought I would enjoy allowing someone to have so much control over me. But as he stands over me and climbs onto the bed with a definitive goal in mind, I am willing to submit to whatever he wants.

The heat of his legs spreads to my sides as he straddles my waist. Simon has all the power in the world over me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Soft hands rest against his thick thighs as he considers the expression on my face. Wild hair frames my flushed cheeks. My lips are chapped as I draw them between my teeth at the sight of him. As his eyes continue down my frame, they proudly skirt across the marks garnishing my chest, past my hips, until he finally lingers on my hands gently rubbing circles into his meaty flesh.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Simon’s head tilts as he asks this. He grabs the tops of my hands and leads them up his thighs.

“I’ve a few ideas,” my voice cracks as I speak. I almost feel nervous again. As we reach the hem of his underwear, he slows but doesn’t stop.

“Every day,” his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “After every meeting with you, every time you grab my arm or whisper my name or look at me with those fucking eyes, this is what you do to me y/n,” he places my hands over the large bulge in his underwear.

I feel him throb under my hands as he strains against the fabric, aching to be freed.

“Every day I wrap my hand around my cock and imagine it’s yours,” Simon holds my hands in place as his hips subconsciously grind against the friction. “I think about what you felt like wrapped around me that night,” his voice is thick with desire. I feel myself gripping tighter as I long for his touch against my feverish skin. “No one’s ever done that to me before, y/n.”

“Simon,” my voice is unsteady. His eyes flicker up from our hands. “I need you.”

He leans down and cages me in with both arms, yet my hand never leaves his pulsing length. Simon’s breathing deepens as I stroke him above his boxers. He pauses, searching my eyes for something I’ll never understand. When our swollen lips meet and his tongue brushes against mine, I slip my fingers just past the band of his underwear. A low growl vibrates through his chest as my hand inches closer and finally grasps him.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groans as I pump his cock in my hand. The needy sounds escaping from his chest make me want him even more. As I trace my thumb around the head of his cock he starts to grind against my hand. “y/n.”

Simon grabs himself and slides his length along my entrance. I revel in the feeling of being trapped under him.

“Please Simon,” I whine as he teases me back and forth. The need to feel him is overwhelming. Fuck, he’s all I can think about.

“Look at me sweetheart,” Simon mumbles and as our eyes meet, I feel him push his throbbing tip in. “Does that feel good?” he whispers.

There’s a distinct tightness as he stretches me out perfectly around himself. Already I feel my walls clenching around him and he hasn’t even started thrusting. Simon slowly adds more length. He bites his bottom lip as he watches my expressions. He revels in knowing how feral he makes me.

“Oh, fuck,” the breathless words graze my lips. So damn good. Every small movement sends jolts of pleasure through my core.

Simon grabs my waist with his hands and starts to pick up speed. Each thrust feels like he’s reaching deeper within. And every time he hits that tiny bundle of nerves and I clench even tighter around him I feel like we grow even closer.

The muscles in his back flex as I wrap my legs around the vast space and pull him closer. My hands grasp his forearms cemented into the bed beside my head. My fingers and knuckles turn white from holding onto him so tight as his thrusts grow harder and harder. Fuck is he thrusting hard. Each stroke is so damn powerful that I can’t help the whines and whimpers that echo throughout the room.

As his intensity grows, so does the volume of my cries. Until a large hand wraps itself around my mouth and stifles the sounds. “Shh, can’t have anyone hear how good I make you feel,” Simon’s hot breath brushes against my ear.

His quiet grunts fill my ears as he picks up his pace even faster and he bows his head to the crook of my neck.

Every nerve in my body is overwhelmed with pleasure. His compelling scent fills my lungs. His desperate sounds reverberate through my ears. The pressure and friction of his body against mine are all too much.

I already feel another high coming.

Simon’s fiery lips latch onto my collarbones. As his head is bowed, I slip my hand behind the mask and feel his thick hair between my fingers. It's every small detail about him that drives me over the edge. His heavy breathing. How his hand presses hard against my mouth to stifle my moans. How hot his skin is against my own. Beneath my fingers, he feels so real.

Every thrust strokes that perfect spot so deep within me. I slip a hand between my legs and circle my clit. Behind my eyelids, stars explode with pleasure. I try and tell him how close I am, but the words don’t make it past his hand.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he moans into my ear. “I know you’re close,” Simon’s lips press against my ear. His sharp teeth gently tug at my lobe. Despite his hand, my moans grow even louder. He maintains a steady, powerful pace that rocks the bedframe and stirs my soul.

My hand circles around myself even faster to keep up with him. Every muscle in my body grows tenser and tenser. Inching closer and closer to a complete release.

I so badly want to close my eyes, but I know if I look away from him now, he’ll stop. I feel them well wet with tears from how fucking intense he makes me feel. The rest of his room, the base, and the world all disappear. All that matters is him. All I need is him. Simon. Fucking hell, Simon. My vision blurs and my walls tense harder than ever before.

Stars explode behind my vision as I stare into his eyes and I feel like I can reach out and touch his soul. White light blinds my vision and I feel my entire body freeze like I’ve been possessed by something otherworldly. Everything releases all at once and I ride the waves of pleasure that course through my bones. Simon replaces his hand with his swollen lips.

“You did so good sweetheart,” he rasps. But I know his mind is elsewhere right now. I sense how rock-hard he is in me. How his cock throbs with every thrust. I know he needs this as much as I did. How desperate he’s feeling right now.

“Don’t hold back, Simon,” I whisper into his ear. He pulls his head back to look me in the eyes. Being intimate with him has taught me just how much he values eye contact. This is how he connects. It’s not about sex, it’s about vulnerability. And this is a state he doesn’t let others see him in. Whether he’ll admit it or not, he trusts me.

I stroke his jaw and lock my legs around his waist as he quickens his pace. His breathing deepens and his hands tighten around my waist as he uses me as leverage to thrust even faster.

His lips part as quiet grunts and moans work their way through his chest. The soft sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. My walls clench around him. After my second, high every part of my body is even more sensitive. Feeling him inside me is borderline painful, but watching the look in his eyes is all that matters.

Simon’s thrusts begin to falter. His chest brushes against my breasts as he leans down and brings himself closer. His hands move to cup my face as his eyes bore into my heart. One last desperate moan escapes his lips as he presses his forehead into mine. He pulls out and finishes on the duvet before collapsing directly on top of me.

“Fucking hell, y/n” he mumbles into my neck. My hands wrap around his broad back and rest there as we both catch our breath. “You’re something else.”

A comfortable silence settles over us in the moments afterward. Simon gives me a Henley to wear and slips on his pants before settling back on the bed. His hands gently wind themselves through my hair as I lean against his chest.

I expect him to pull the balaclava back down almost immediately like he did last time. But he doesn’t. Simon leaves the fabric rolled up and his jaw exposed. As he rests his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling, I gently trace my fingers along the sharp feature and down his neck.

My mind drifts to all the possible reasons why he wears it all the time. Why none of his soldiers know what he looks like. Why even after being so vulnerable with me, he choses to keep it on. But I won’t ask. I know if I’m ever going to find out it’ll be because he feels the time is right. But I don’t think I’ll ever find out. Because I don’t think I’ll know him long enough.

The time on his watch reads 17:04. There’s just under an hour before I have to be back in my room.

The soothing motion of his hand brushing along my hair is almost enough for me to dose off. His breathing is slow and even. His heart thunders strong and healthy behind his ribcage. There’s something so sure about him. Something safe.

“Simon?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you read to me?” I think of his copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that I skimmed across the other day. About the story of a boy who escapes an abusive childhood. Who finds freedom. And I wonder if he sees himself in the story. If he feels like he escaped.

“Would you like me to?” his low voice almost sounds tired.

“I would.”

He sighs as he reaches for the old beat-up book. Simon flips the worn pages open to a dogeared spot just over halfway through. He clears his voice and then pulls me further up his chest so his arms can wrap around my waist and hold the novel at the same time.

Simon’s voice is quiet and thick and comforting as he starts at the top of the page. I don’t know what events led here, but the characters sound troubled. My entire body relaxes and wishes we could stay like this forever. The looming threat of returning to my own room hangs over my shoulders, yet I try my best to push it away. Instead, I focus on the feeling of his warm skin against my cheek. Of the strength of his heart. I allow it to lull me almost, but not quite asleep.

“I couldn’t bear to think about it; and yet, somehow, I couldn’t think about nothing else. It got darker and darker, and it was a beautiful time to give the crowd the slip; but that big husky had me by the wrist,” Simon slowly reads the pages, leaving himself time to picture the scene.

My head moves with his chest as he breathes deeply. He’s like an anchor, holding me here, keeping me safe as the storm wages on around us.

His words fade and the room gets darker and darker.

When I wake up, I recognize my quarters.

And I recognize the looming shadow. His husky hand wraps around my wrist and demands my attention.

But this time, I’m expecting him.

[adacatlovelace]

Okay I think I finally understand Emesis Blue. Major Spoilers below.

So the first thing you have to understand about Emesis Blue is that, while it seems to change a lot of TF2's lore at first, it simply grounds it in reality to examine how such an wacky insane world could be possible and the ramifications of many things we simply take for granted.

It begins with the CEO of Helix Industries funding a respawn machine to give Redmond and Blutarch bodies for their outrageously long gravel war. It works through the use of time manipulation, bring a person back from death by rewinding their timeline back to when they were alive. This can also be done multiple times to create copies of people. However, their consciousness still dies, leaving them to experience an eternity, driving them insane. This is the "Respawn Gap" the time between death and respawn. This is treated with Diazapam disguised as Valium to make them forget the respawn gap

10 people are found to be respawn compatible, but the nameless DOD solider/10th class was subjected to the respawn gap so much that they'd immediately kill themselves upon respawn. However, soldier became the perfect candidate for all the tests done. He didn't need to take the diazapam because his mind was already broken. (As an aside, I dont think the soldier in Emasis Blue actually served in the military. Hell, soldiers whole thing is thinking that he did because he's an absolute lunatic)

At some point, Archibald stepped down from Helix, leaving the faceless man in black in charge while Archibald took over running Builders League for Blutarch Mann. Still needing someone to do his dirty work, he hires Spy as his right hand man, tasking him with first executing Heavy, Sniper and Scout for "Treason" (Not clear what actually caused it, but those three are important)

Meanwhile, the Conagher Slaughterhouse is converted from a testing site for the respawn machine to a disposal site for the many corpses from both testing and the gravel wars, run the Conagher "brothers" two flawed respawn clones of the engineer.

On top of this, the Man in Black utilized it to continue research the means of true immortality, without the flaws of the respawn machine. To accomplish this, he brings in a Red Medic as well as Sniper and Heavy, previously killed by BLU and now working with the man in Black. Alongside them, he also brings in a respawn clone of Ludwig, the Plague Doctor or M, as well as Pyro, who likely took the job out of their own sadistic nature.

It blurs the line between Ludwig and M becuase the fact of the matter is that they are the same person, M simply being a version of Ludwig that didn't have the madness brought on by the Respawn Gap. Unfortunately for Scout, the respawn machine malfunctions and he's officially fired from BLU. Not wanting to take the hit lying down, he plans on taking legal action against BLU, either risking drawing attention to Helix or simply causing trouble for BLU. As a result, M and Pyro are sent to make him disappear.

However, like the darkness that Ludwig is constantly fighting, theres still a trace of good in M. Like M from the movie, he wanted the death to end so he works to bring Ludwig to Conagher Slaughterhouse, knowing Spy and Soldier to follow them and for them to learn the truth.

At the same time, information about the respawn testing is begins to surface and Archibald needs to disappear for a bit, planning on using the respawn machine at the slaughterhouse to come back when things either clear up or he can make an escape. However, the respawn machine in the slaughterhouse had whatever device was responsible for the time manipulation previously moved somewhere else that needed it and needed to be transported back by Heavy.

So the events of Emesis BLU happen, M locking Archibald in the dungeon to trap him so that he could be found and likely killed by Spy. Various time anomalies happen due to the presence of the briefcase. Everything comes crashing down and Ludwig shoots himself knowing that M is still out there, waiting to enact the final part of his plan. M kills Spy, Soldier kills Blutarch (and inadvertently Redmond) M crashes his ambulance, and Medics fractured soul finally finds peace in the afterlife.

However, like demo says "Our true enemy has yet to reveal himself" referring to the man in black.

[suchine-toki]

About Takasugi's abuse

The other day (totally not months ago) we were talking with @sakukaguxxi about how Takasugi’s relationship with his bio family is overlooked in character analyses. While Sorachi didn’t delve deeply into this aspect, which isn’t inherently bad, I think it’s important for understanding why he turned out the way he did.

We know two canon facts: (1) he comes from a low-class samurai family, and (2) he’s the firstborn. This suggests his family held noble status but struggled to maintain it. As a result, they relied on him to preserve their standing, enrolling him in a military academy and being strict about how he interacted with higher-status classmates.

To enforce this, they employed harsh punishments, such as starving him, tying him to a tree and leaving him in the cold for hours, or physically hitting him with enough force to draw blood when he was just a child (~10 yo?). On top of this, the threat of disownment loomed over him constantly.

These actions indicate they didn’t see him as a person or a child worth protecting but rather as a means to an end (maintaining their status). Consequently, he grew up devaluing himself and lacking the tools to express love in a healthy way. This likely explains why he became so attached to Shouyo and Gintoki.

For Shouyo, he was probably the first and only parental figure to treat Takasugi with genuine respect. While he disciplined him, it was always treated lightly and without causing him any real harm, unlike his bio father. Shouyo provided basic necessities like food, warmth, care, but also a sense of belonging.

Regarding Gintoki, a lot can and has been said. On this topic, he may’ve downplayed or misunderstood the extent of Takasugi’s abuse. This can be inferred from his comments before meeting Sakamoto, where he jokingly implies that Takasugi is still a “daddy’s kid,” even though he knows Takasugi was disowned.

This is interesting because Takasugi mentions being disowned long ago, yet for Gintoki, it doesn’t seem so distant. The timeline is unclear, perhaps Takasugi’s father disowned him during childhood, or maybe he tried to bring him back for years until eventually giving up when Takasugi was a teenager and considered irredeemable.

Moving into non-canon territory, if we consider Takasugi Shinsaku (the historical figure) for inspiration, some gaps can be filled. He was the firstborn, had three sisters, and bore the responsibilities of being the sole male heir. His father reportedly tried to steer him away from radicalism, even arranging a marriage for him to settle down.

This aligns with a seemingly banal joke, that Takasugi owned The Portopia Serial Murder Case and a console to play it (a Famicom?). At first glance, it’s odd that an abusive family would buy him such things. However, abusive individuals aren’t cruel all the time. They can oscillate between being harsh and showing kindness, creating a cycle of manipulation and gaslighting. This could explain why it took Takasugi some time to leave, perhaps he realized they needed him more than he needed them or that they would never truly love him.

The lasting effects on him are evident. Takasugi struggles to express himself in ways that don’t involve violence, and saw himself as disposable, with no strong sense of self. He fought for Shouyo’s freedom, for Gintoki’s tears, and later, for Gintoki’s happiness. While these were his choices, they were never about himself, they were for the people he held close to his heart.

[tams-writeblr]

Love in a hopeles Place 22

Synopsis: She was barely grown up, when she stepped into the bar that was the center of Zaun's resistance. The people she met there would forever change her life, and one of them especially. Silco x reader/OC; first-person POV; overall rating: E for Explicit; canon-compliant (though I might make a stretch on the timeline here and there to make things fit my symbolism); age gap! (younger female, older male); 9 chapters; 45k; cis female reader/POV; no beta-reader; completed Chapter ratings/warnings: T for Teen. Strong language, mentions of drugs abuse Wordcount: <1k Author's note: I won't go into detail today. It's the finale of act II so, maybe someone needs a hankie? (Probably not) Comments would be appreciated!

Today's music recommendation: Woodkid - Guns for Hire

<- previous | next ->

Act II

Chapter III

Part 9/9

They say, curiosity killed the cat. And so curiosity also got the worst out of me.

On my day off, I was doing what had to be done around the house, while Silco was out getting something important done (as he called it). I was dusting off all kinds of surfaces. Usually I only touched his desk, when there was really nothing lying around it.

But his books had cluttered the surface for weeks now, and the dark wood started to really look ugly.

Maybe that was just an excuse for me to touch his things. Maybe I wanted to make sure he wasn't doing anything dangerous again.

Cleaning the desk, I "accidentally" dropped his notebook, and it landed, back down, open pages up, on the floor. As I reached for it, my eyes roamed his notes, and I couldn't believe what I read. I plopped onto the desk chair and turned page after page, losing track of time and the danger of being caught completely. In fact, I couldn't wait for Silco to return, so I could confront him.

Finally, the door was locked open, and I instantly got on my feet. The second he saw me at his desk, he knew. His jaw clenched, and he clicked his tongue at me.

"What the fuck is this?", I yelled.

"Are you satisfied now, knowing what I'm up to? I brought your favorite snack. You were tormenting me with how much you wanted it the other day."

I lashed at him and shoved his notebook into his chest. "I asked you what the fuck is this?"

He held my hand against the book and his chest. "This could be the solution to our problems, kid." He took the book away, placed it on the counter, and looked me straight in the eye. "An old... friend of mine has made an interesting discovery recently. A root that greatly increases the life-force of individuals. If we're able to extract the agent, we might be able to create a substance that basically creates a super-solider with one injection. Do you understand what that could mean? We would finally have the military force to make Piltover listen to us. This is the way to a free, independent Zaun!"

"I already got that from your notes. I might not be as book smart as you are, but I'm not dumb either. But you let out an important detail. Your "friend" noticed, that the test subjects needed more and more of that root for the effect to last. Was it deprived of it, his condition quickly worsened. This stuff is highly addictive, Silco. You're not talking about one injection to make a super-solider. You're talking about creating another motherfucking drug. And those streets truly don't need more junkies, as we already have."

He clicked his tongue again. "We're trying to get rid of this. We've just started our research, okay? Despite, one substance more or less, what's the difference? Aren't we all addicted to anything already?"

"I can't tolerate this, Silco. Please drop this project. Do it for me, okay? My mother became a junkie, that's why she left us."

"It's not all about you, kid," Silco pointed his long finger right into my face. "This will change the course of history for Zaun."

I felt my eyes go wet, but I refused to let a single tear out. "I'm sorry, Silco, but this is a path I can't follow you on."

His face smoothed out for a second, before getting darker than before. "Blood on my hands, lying, killing, being disfigured and cast out of our friend group. All that was no dealbreaker for you. But you draw a line on drugs?"

I saw in his eyes, that he already had made his decision. So I slowly nodded. "Yes, I have my principles, as well as you seem to have yours." My lips trembled as his face got emotionless.

He straightened his back, took a deep breath, and nodded. "Fine," he said, blankly. "I wanted a change of scenery anyway. I'll come pick up my stuff tomorrow while you're at work. You can keep the apartment if you want it. I'll find something new."

I couldn't believe he really stayed that calm, dealing me off, like I was some sort of employee to him.

As he turned his back to me and slipped through the door, a single tear fell out of my eye.

[commsroom]

do you have any ideas for what you want for eiffel and hera post-canon?

yes, i do! the answer to that really depends on whether we're talking short term or long term, and what i want vs. what i think will happen is... well, i think they'll be okay. eventually. they'll get there.

i'm firmly in the camp that eiffel gets his memories back (fairly short-term in my mental timeline; given the most likely ways that he could get his memories back, it doesn't make much sense for him to be without them for more than a few months) and that hera gets a body (more complicated, and somewhat more long term), but my reasoning for why i think those things work narratively would be a long post in itself (and i've made multiple posts about those topics already) so i won't get into the why here. just, i think it happens.

the note the finale ends on definitely implies eiffel, hera, and minkowski intend to stick together on earth, and i think minkowski feels a lot of responsibility for them, given everything. so i think they live with her, for the foreseeable future. eiffel's not good at holding down a job, and hera... i think it's important that she gets a chance to try things without fear of failure and to separate her self worth from productivity. eiffel and hera are meant to be minkowski's slacker roommates. hera should be creating unmarketable art.

and the issue of where they live will come up pretty quickly, i think - hera doesn't have any particular attachment to anywhere, except for a desire to see the ocean, but mobility might be a problem. minkowski is a career military woman who's moved around a lot, but her husband worked in DC, so presumably they lived in... probably maryland or virginia? before she accepted the job, and that's a complicating factor if she's choosing who to prioritize. i think eiffel would be pretty adamant about staying in texas so he's at least in the same state as his daughter, even if he can't see her. and as much as i would like for eiffel to be able to be a part of her life again, because i know how much he wants that... i don't think it's very likely. at least not any time soon. and he won't handle that well.

speaking about post-canon wolf 359, i don't tend to get that into potential legal / media circuit stuff because... frankly, i don't think it's that important to what the show is about. i'm sure it will be a scandal, but lots and lots of space-travel-related scandals are going on in that world, and cutter and pryce were very intentionally not the public faces of goddard futuristics. it'll pass. that said, the aspect of that i am interested in is legal personhood - that's going to be a hurdle for hera to be able to live her life, and i think eiffel will worry - even if it isn't totally rational - about whether he'll be able to stay out of prison once no longer legally dead, not knowing exactly what the terms of cutter's arrangement were. being an ex-convict is going to complicate some facets of his life regardless.

there's just a lot of stuff that being on earth is going to bring up for them. and i think they'll be there for each other, obviously - one of the things i like most about their relationship is how much they're able to be a refuge for each other in some objectively horrible situations - but they're both pretty insecure people who feel like everyone is bound to replace them, and earth is going to give hera some serious separation anxiety while she's bound to one location and the others aren't, and those are things they're going to have to work through.

as for what i want for them... well. i think eiffel will give hera a 'promise ring' with a kind of jokey but good natured promise that one day she'll be able to wear it. and she does! but neither of them are sure if that counts as a proposal in retrospect and they dance around it for a while. they get married eventually, and - against her better judgment - minkowski agrees to be both eiffel's best man and hera's maid of honor. and ends up taking on way too much of the wedding planning, even though she said she wouldn't, because they're both super lax about it and it starts stressing her out. she tries to delegate to lovelace, but lovelace just thinks it's all really funny. eiffel gets married in a novelty tuxedo tee and minkowski apologizes to hera, but hera knows the type of guy she's marrying (and isn't concerned about tradition anyway) so it doesn't bother her.

[reds-skull]

Post script on BLOOD||HUNGER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if Soap was dishonorably discharged instead?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4 - Vainglory: Vainglory.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The knight leaves his sword with the Blind Man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hunter finds them. And again, he fails.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, no, no. They’re lying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poison.

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

Not kill. They want him alive.

He has to GET. OUT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(They know. The communicator. The Hunter.)

Johnny knows.

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

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

“Didn’t you,

Simon Riley?”

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

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

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

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

(Lieutenant Riley was his most caring soldier-)

(What’s wrong, son?-)

(LT-)

(SIMON-)

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

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

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

Rage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What do you see, he wants to ask. 

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

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

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

I can’t be Simon again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Simon wants to be destroyed by him.

If only to feel that searing touch once more.

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

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

Soap inhales sharply. That’s it!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“After what?”

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps he wouldn’t feel as doomed.

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

EDIT: I FORGOT TO PUT THE POEM AAA SHIT

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

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

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

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

As he is nothing, when his steps sound alone,

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

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

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

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

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

[rascal-xo]

Omg omg omg, I’ve been thinking about this a lot but do you think you can write about Soap and reader like they broke up a long time ago but the problem is he still has feelings for her but she’s in a relationship with someone else…idk it’s your page you can create it how you want it.

Unhealed Wounds | Soap MacTavish x Female Reader |

Chapter Summary: Time heals all wounds except for you and Johnny MacTavish’s very intricate history together…

| Timelines overlap in this fanfic - character(s) from a different campaign |

Warnings: ANGST, fluff, minor smut, violence

Word Count: 987

Taglist: @glitteryeggalmondherring @fiveshelmet @madamemelancholysstuff @myguiltypleasures21 @pukbadger @boniscute

A/N: Thank you sm for the request!! I haven’t written for Soap specifically yet so I’m excited to see how it goes. I hope you enjoy 🩷🩷

“You’re so serious.” You chuckled, running your hand through Keegan’s soft black hair. Lying half on his chest, you felt the warmth of his body against yours. He lay on his back, tracing gentle circles on your bare back with his fingers.

The sheets were tangled around your bodies, a testament to the passion you had just shared moments earlier in the small on base lodgings you shared.

It was true, Keegan was as serious a sniper as they came. It was a rare moment of tranquility in your worlds full of chaos and conflict. For now, the weight of duty and the battles ahead were forgotten, replaced by the peace that enveloped the room.

He stayed quiet, looking up at the ceiling lost in his thoughts. You leaned up on your elbow, and studied his face, searching for a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his stoic exterior. Then it hit you. “You’re leaving again.” You said, the soft smile fading from your lips.

A flicker of emotion passed through Keegan's eyes, a fleeting sadness that he quickly masked. "I don’t have a choice, you know this.” You did know. The constant ebb and flow of deployments, the bittersweet cycle of being reunited and then having to leave once more—it was a reality you had both grown accustomed to, but it didn't make it any easier.

You had met Keegan when you honorably left the 141 and began to work along side his unit in covert combat operations.

Overtime you got to know him more and you two grew closer over the past few years. You both had agreed there would be no strings attached and that it would strictly be a casual thing but neither of you had plans to keep that promise.

After your last relationship years back, you weren’t sure if you could do it again but he had a way with his words and his hands

A silence settled between you, Keegan's fingers ceased their gentle circles, his hand now coming to rest on your lower back.

By the next day you had said your knowing goodbyes and by the next week you too were off to your next assignment. You got off of the transport plane and stepped foot on the familiar base.

Muscle memory brought you to the small briefing room located in the main wing of the large military base. You pushed open the door and were greeted by a group of familiar faces. “Hope you all didn’t start without me.”

“Sergeant!” Gaz called out, happy to see an old friend.

“Glad to have you back, even if it’s for a little while eh?” Captain Price took your hand in a friendly shake.

You smiled, the warmth of their welcome easing the small ache of separation that had lingered since your unexpected departure. It felt good to be back among the familiar camaraderie of the your old team.

“Nice to know you’re alive.” Ghost said, monotonously as you’d remembered him.

“Glad to know you’re still as charming as ever, Simon.” You teased, taking your seat next to him. You suddenly looked over to see Soap walking in, he paused for a split second seeing you in the room.

“Y/N.” His eyes were wide in shock for a moment and then he gave a small nod. “Good to see you again.”

“You too, Johnny.” You smiled, watching him take his seat across from you. Deep down his emotions swirled within—a blend of happiness, regret, and a longing for what once was your relationship.

You and Johnny dated for the last 2 and a half years of the 6 years that you were in the 141. Things had started off amazing; you two had unmatched chemistry. Romance wasn’t hard to come by between the two of you and you were in a good place.

But miscommunication and missed opportunities for connection led to growing resentment and frustration. In the end, you both made the difficult decision to part ways romantically, believing it was for the best.

Johnny had not taken it as well as you had hoped which made things bitter for the both of you and much harder to work together.

The mission demanded your focus, and you both buried your personal history beneath the carpet of professionalism. What had happened was in the past.

The briefing went on and soon enough the mission had came and gone. You all found yourself back at a bar near base for a mini post-mission downtime celebration.

You sat at the bar with the rest of the 141, drinks in hand and laughter filling the air. It was a much-needed respite after the intensity of the mission, a chance to unwind and revel in each other's company.

The atmosphere was calm, the clinking of glasses and conversations from the other patrons blending. You found yourself taking a step outside to get some air, as you were beginning to feel stuffy inside.

You made your way through the crowd and found yourself outside the bar, the cool night air providing a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. You lit a cigarette, the smoke curling upwards as you exhaled, lost in thought.

As you took a drag, you heard the door creak open behind you, and a figure emerged from the dimly lit interior. It was Johnny, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability.

"Y/N," His voice said, breaking the silence, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You barely said more than 20 words to me the entire time you’ve been here.”

"It’s not on purpose, Johnny," you replied, your voice steady but tinged with caution.

He stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, his voice filled with a mix of regret and frustration. "I've been thinking a lot about us, about how things ended. It didn't have to be that way, Y/N. We could have fought for what we had."

You took a step back, the smoke from your cigarette swirling around you like a veil of uncertainty. "Johnny, you had 2 years." you said, your voice tinged with a mix of sadness and resignation. "It doesn’t matter now.”

Johnny's frustration gave way to anger, his face contorted with a mix of hurt and resentment. In a moment of recklessness, he closed the distance between you, his hands reaching out to cup your face as he pressed his lips against yours.

Caught off guard, you instinctively pushed him away, the taste of his kiss mingling with the sting of regret. "You’re drunk" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "We’re not doing this, Johnny." You took another breath. “I’m with someone now.”

His expression shifted from anger to betrayal, his eyes filled with a mixture of disappointment and anger. "You’re not the person you used to be." he spat, his voice laced with bitterness.

A heaviness settled in your chest as his words hung in the air. “You lost me once already, and you’re about to fuck it up again.” You said, your voice now steady.

Without another word, you turned away, your steps heavy against the rain as you made your way back inside the bar. The revelry continued, the laughter and music filling the space, but within you, a sense of annoyance lingered.

You knew that the wounds of your past relationship with Johnny would take time for him to heal, but in that moment, you resolved to focus on the present, to find some relaxation in the bonds of friendship and the shared purpose that the 141 provided for the time being.

[pencileraser1]

u were keatposting in my asks. now i must do the same in yours since my brain is so obviously filled with him. share ur keating thoughts i know theyre hiding in there!!!!!!!!

i'm just gonna thoughtsdump about this it might not be coherent?but here we go

a lot of my keating thoughts are kind of depressing uh

i think the really tragic thing about this movie (or one of them i guess) is that in the end basically everything that happened likely didn't matter enough in the long term. and one of the biggest losses is that i kind of do think that after keating left, almost none of the students would continue to apply what he taught them. the biggest exceptions to this would be todd and sort of half charlie, i do pretty much agree with the post canon idea that it's likely that todd would end up an english teacher. and i think that he's probably the only person who would genuinely continue to actually apply what keating taught him. charlie i think would continue to be rebellious for a bit longer and then eventually sort of fall in line with what his parents wanted from him in the end, the best outcome is probably that he'd go on to be some sort of artist but i don't think it's super likely that that's what he'd do long term/all the time if that makes sense. for the rest of the poets, i think they'd all go back to how they were before pre-keating. i think you mentioned that neil was really the person who understood keatings lessons the best, which i agree with, and him dying likely prevented the rest of the poets from really getting it before keating left. basically my thought about this is that at the end of the movie, todd and keating are both fundamentally changed, but the rest of the poets aren't, and how much they were able to change is not enough to create a lasting impact.

on a lighter note someone said that possibly the most impressive mark of what keating did was that hopkins stood up on the desk at the end. and while i think that the combination of todd being able to stand up on his desk first, and how keating and neil made it possible to do so is more impressive, i think it maybe comes in in close second for me (i know i just went on a tangent about this not mattering that much but it did matter a little bit and this is still very impressive. like the guy shown to be the Most skeptical stood on the desk that's a lot)

i've seen a theory floating around every once in a while that keating's experience with the first dead poets society might have been similar to what happened with neil, like he had a friend in the society who also committed suicide, and i kind of don't like that theory very much? i guess there are a few elements to it, the biggest being that if someone died the first time, i don't think that keating would even entertain the thought of restarting it. and the second is that i honestly think we could come up with something a lot more interesting.

keating went to welton during ww2, (there's a small possible plothole/timeline issue which is that nolan tells keating he taught english "way before you're time," per the annual, keating begun attending welton in 1941, when nolan was probably about 40 and i suspect not principal since there isn't really any familiarity between the two. my personal theory which i actually really like now that i'm thinking about it is that nolan wasn't at welton from 1941-1944 for some reason, probably ww2 related. not sure Exactly how, nolan's old enough that it's unlikely he would've actually fought unless he had been in the military before, but that could also be interesting, idk there's a lot of possibilities) the us joined ww2 at the end of 1941 so for almost the entire time keating was in school, that would have been going on. and i think that would have put a very unique type of stress on the school and i think it would be really interesting to think about the poet's experience during that time. what i do think happened in lieu of someone dying is probably that they got in some significant amount of trouble at some point, or possibly that they didn't exactly get in trouble but that there was some other issue related to the administration.

other interesting details from the annual: keating was varsity soccer captain and editor of the school annual, likely how he got dps under his name. also btw keating was the soccer coach during the movie if that wasn't clear since the soccer team is. just keatings class minus cameron whose doing fencing. and i only realized this after reading the book (which i do not reccomend if you want to read the book just read the old script it's got all the same stuff and i honestly think the writings better in the script)

anyways i think we should come up with more theories about the original dead poets. bc i think that could be interesting.

i think we were kind of talking about the keating/neil parallels a bit and i'm just gonna talk more about that as well bc i'm a bit insane about it. so like as previously mentioned!!! neil is the one who fundamentally understood keating the most probably (todd and charlie also understood keating but in different ways kind of??? and i think you've spoken about this before too) and there's a lot of like; keating likely starting the original dps/neil starting dps 2.0, both being editors of the school annual (sort of), both encouraging people (todd) to express themselves in ways they might not have thought possible

the way keating and neil's storylines end are also similar. they both set out with a specific goal and while they are successful at first, they are both stopped in ways that are ultimately kind of catastrophic. not fully coherent about this yet but. wanted to add it.

also just wanted to briefly mention keating and mcallister bc i really liked their relationship, all of m thoughts have already been said but i just wanted to add that

keating is in a position where he understands what his students are going through in a way that none of the other teachers do and throughout the movie i honestly think his goal was at least partially just to make their lives just a little bit better. like some of his students would get it and some wouldn't, but for all of them they have one class where the teacher is nice and not as strict or exhausting or gives them ridiculous amounts of homework. and even if keating is just. the one class that's a little bit easier. that still probably helps so much with how the environment at welton was. obviously keatings ultimate goal was probably to teach his students to think for themselves and about what they specifically want but i think the smaller impacts of like. ok here's one class where the teacher isn't a hardass is meaningful too.

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

Okay, I Am Still spoilers under the cut. Let's do this.

Oh boy, that was something.

Seeing Jungkook made me so happy and at peace. His bright smile makes me happy. I felt so much love for him, so real and deep that it's surreal I feel that way and that my love for him has grown so much throughout chapter 2 - and that I've loved him for 5 years now... When the first Golden performance was played, I really felt so serene and present. I wanted to close my eyes. My problems felt so far away and I was grateful to be alive and to be alive at the same time as Jungkook. I often think this, but as long as Jungkook is happy, then at least one person I really love is okay, and that makes living a little bit easier. So I often plead to myself for him to be happy and have a happy ever after (as much as possible in a world where sickness and death are guaranteed). So, thank you, Jungkook, for every bit of comfort and happiness you give me, and for filling my heart when I feel that it is so hollow. I'm so proud of you. I was so proud seeing your journey.

I was also so moved at the end of the movie... Magic Shop played, then the black screen thanking Army showed up (tears), followed by Jungkook shaving his hair for the military... His hairstylist cried... It was sweet and sad, I love how much everyone loves Jungkook. He hugged his hairstylist was sweetly and acted bravely. And then Jimin showed up and Jungkook acted silly for him... The doc ended. with Jungkook making a funny face... It felt very Jungkook. It left me feeling happy, sad, grateful, touched, and overwhelmed all at once.

I guess the documentary also made me feel bad for how critical I am of him. It's just my nature. I feel things very deeply or very shallowly...

Now, other thoughts and criticism:

Most of the doc was rather underwhelming. I paid too much to see something that could've been available for free on YT. It had about the same quality as LSRF's docs tbh. They could've hired a really good producer instead.

I get the story they were telling, but it left much to be desired. The timeline was all over the place, and they overall showed very little given the material they must have. They could've dug so much deeper and shown so much more of Jungkook - which is what I believe he probably wanted. They showed so much old footage, like some of his performances and interviews. It was all about showing his success, talent, and perseverance. That's great and all, but it doesn't make the doc insightful or new.

I wanted to really see the process of creating Golden. Not just him recording stuff and traveling the world, but discussing the songs, the MVs. Why did he release the explicit version of Seven - what was that discussion like? Why he decide on collabs? How did he choose the songs? Why did he decide to make an English album after 3D - was it an easy choice or was he unsure about it? Did he give his input on the MVs? The doc doesn't answer these questions or truly show the decision-making process behind Golden, behind Seven, 3D, and SNTY. So it's less about Golden, and more about Jungkook's growth. I guess Golden is only about Jungkook proving something, but they could've done more, dug deeper, showed more of Golden since the doc is marketed as a "making of" Golden.

Still, it did show candid and very Jungkook-like moments and how his confidence in himself grew. It showed what his goals were, and I really relate to what he said about not knowing what the end goal is but that at least he's learning. I also don't know what I want my career to be yet, but I'm learning stuff and hopefully I'll figure it out.

I just expected more substance. Showing him perform and being interviewed was unnecessary. We've already seen all of that. Some performances and interview moments are fine, but there were too many imo. I also didn't like the quotes from some of the producers. Tbh, Jungkook would've made a much better documentary than Hybe. I was still satisfied in the end though.

On another note, I witnessed the Taekook effect for the first time irl. Some fans started yelling when V showed up - they either love V or Taekook, or both. No one really reacted with Jimin or Jikook...

This was my first time seeing BTS on the big screen. I'd never done it previously because I don't want to give Hybe money and because it didn't feel worth it. I was also very afraid of watching it with other Armys. I expected fans to yell when JK appeared shirtless, which they did, and they laughed and cooed a bit too much, but overall fans were quiet. Thankfully. That had been my biggest concern... The Portuguese just can't be bothered with anything.

Speaking of Portuguese, I paid 11 Euros for a movie that was translated into Brazilian Portuguese? I never thought an official movie would be shown in Portuguese from Brazil in Portugal. It is not the same as Portuguese from Portugal. A lot of the translation sounded off.

Anyway... what did you guys think? I have to eat now before I pass out. I'm so weak my arms and legs are tingling. And I bit all my nails during the doc because I was hungry lmao.

Edit: Forgot to add that beginning the doc with baby pictures of Jungkook was too cute. Also, I loved all the moments of Jungkook Jungkooking. Cause of death: Jungkook and his big, pretty eyes, and cute mannerisms, and perfect heart.

[typosandtea]

from the Fallout OC asks: 21, 32, 58, 64 for Murphy, Tango, and Nathan... or just Murphy if that's too much :o)

HELL YEAH DO I WANT TO WRITE ALL OF THEM!!!

@charliesvarietyhour

Bloody hell this got very long.. Thanks for the ask this has been so great to write! :D

Important things of note or some of this may not make any sense:

Murphy and Nathan and on the same timeline / story, my mutant 111 Au where it was a dual experiment in conjunction with west-tek to create super soldiers by gene editing and splicing. everyone survived the experimentation and subsequent stasis, though by the time Murphy hatches? is born? emerges from chrysalis? some have been killed in stasis by an unknown killer (not Kellogg, though Kellogg still has his role basically unchanged)

Tango is on a different Au timeline also centered around 4, though Tango is NOT sole, Sole in this one is evil institute bastard by the name of Thorn, who did fallout 4 selfish route until fort hagen and then convinced Kellogg to take her to the institute (leaving nick in the dust with scathing words and gunshots, poor nick), she also joins Kellogg as partners / romance / killers and they rule the institute together more aggressively than Father ever did, though Father is very proud of her.

In Tango's timeline there is no one sole as such, Thorn does parts of the institute route but worse. Tango does some brotherhood stuff though they nope out consequences be damned after BB (there are actual consequences unlike in game for disappearing), Preston is the general along with Libby and Slick take some of the minuteman quests, Libby is ~100yo ghoul with a love of explosives and shotguns, and slick is a young ex-gunner with a big mouth they 'recruit' after he sees how awful the gunners are when he is treated better as a MM captive than as an active gunner. Tango occasionally helps minuteman, more so after BB. Railroad is Fixer though he has to be a bit more creative without sole's foot in the door.

Both timelines take place over years rather than the few weeks that 4 does.

21. Do they travel alone or with a companion?

MURPHY

Murphy has the -trauma- privilege of being a fallout 4 'sole' survivor so despite being an obvious mutant, she ends up meeting most of the companions at one point or another! she much prefers to travel with friends since she pretty social and her time in various military groups has cemented the idea that 'alone = less people to spot danger'. though this is kind of an antithesis to her very design as a flying night stealth operative, so what companions she actually travels with is far less than the ones she befriends. she has actively traveled with codsworth in the beginning, and now travels with Nick, Preston and Danse. Though she ends up alone a lot more than she would like as Preston is busy being the general (she does work for them as both normal quests but also as the unwillingly elected 111 mutant ambassador, helping with any 111mutant related drama like finding homes, or dissuading/knocking some sense into/fighting the more aggressive ones) , Danse is #1 bos enemy so it is dangerous for both of them after that happens (she remains bos /minutemen aligned, somehow.. she does have 3 int but also can see that there are good people in the bos.. a real 'i can fix them' mentality -she can't-, its a long while before she realizes just how trapped she is) she still travels with nick frequently but he is often on cases so its usually her helping him not the other way around. the only upside to traveling alone for Murphy is that she is much quicker and stealthy on her own (especially compared to traveling with Danse rip). special mention for Piper since they butt heads a lot until Murphy gets piper to see that how she writes her paper is part of the problem, and that its a style that Murphy has seen before prewar, and shes seen how it ends. Piper doesn't take this perceived slight to her and her paper easily and it takes time and some deadly consequences for Piper to realize that her scare tactics may be having unintended consequences.

TANGO

Before they got unwillingly turned into Tango, they were a tech scavver who would scour old factories and military facilities for parts, components or even whole robots to hack and sell. they always preferred working alone believing that others slowed them down or could be a threat. They had no friends by choice and very few people they sold to, so when then disappeared back then very few people even knew they were gone. They remain of this prickly mindset even after becoming Tango, and its not until many years later when they reach the commonwealth looking for the secret scientists that 'make clones of people', that they are befriended by Preston and they realized that he really is that genuine and that maybe not everyone is Out To Get Them All Of The Time. After rescuing Preston and gang (since Thorn didn't) Tango has a bit of a crisis in realizing that people actually do care about others and that maybe all those people they pushed away in suspicion might have being genuine. The feeling bad about it doesn't stick around for long though, as many of the people they meet shortly after are raiders, scammers or just as suspicious about others as Tango is. For actual companions they befriend Preston (mostly Preston trying to recruit this hot mess of power armored person, friends after tango has the temporary 'I am a suspicious ass' crisis), Piper surprisingly with how secretive Tango is, this was inevitable as Piper spots someone in unique power armor entering DC and they don't do any of the normal merc things? that's a story for sure! Tango doesn't.. have a lot of patience for Pipers questions and will just. leave. Hit da bricks if the conversation goes where Tango doesn't want it to go (about them). Piper never gets her story (Tango doesn't trust her enough to keep her trap shut) But they do become friends and Tango even travels with her for other stories! For someone so secretive Tango is a nosy bastard. Nick as Tango hires him to help them find a way into the institute, Nick is still a bit stung from Thorn's abandonment and attempted murder of him, he wisely encourages -beats some sense into- Tango that contacting the institute for whatever secret purpose will end poorly for them. though Nick is briefly tempted to help for revenge opportunities against Thorn. Nick is also one of the very few people that gets to see Tango unarmored after a case goes bad and the armor is badly damaged in a partial building collapse thanks to a raider with a missile launcher. After they are dissuaded from institute contact, they wander aimlessly and run into Danse at Cambridge, they become wary acquaintances after Tango joins the bos (without realizing how badly they fucked up until the prydwen arrives, they though Danse and co was the 'bos'). They drive each other bonkers, Tango struggles to adjust to structure and having other people rely on them and not being able to do their own thing at any moment, which frustrates both immensely. (so many arguments over rosters.. "But why are we on night patrol? I would rather be sleeping wouldn't you?""It doesn't matter what you want to do knight that's what we have been assigned so that's what we are doing" both internally screaming. also "Where have you been knight!? Its been two days!!!" "Oh I wanted to upgrade my armors shielding :)" "You were suppose to be helping Proctor Quinlan!!"). Danse also takes Tangos refusal to never leave the armor in anyone's presence as a sign they Tango doesn't trust him at all, and Danse has many theories to why (Ghoul? Synth? ashamed of being seen for some reason? hiding from someone? bad BO?) It doesn't occur to him that Tango Can't leave the armor. Tango befriends Curie immediately with an unconscious mindset of half "I also want a human body again" solidarity and half wow she really is just that genuine and trusting, better help her. Tango often lowers their guard (eventually) around genuine people.

NATHAN

(is 111mutant timelines Nate) Nathan is a bit of a weird one since he is a 111mutant like Murphy, but got many more negative effects. While Murphy lost some intelligence and gained even more anxiety, Nathan lost nearly his whole self, and the bit that remains is so smothered under all of the mutant parts that he is not the same as he was. He wanders the wastes alone and out of his mind, hunting and killing as his mutations have left him with nothing but conflicting half-thoughts, feelings and instincts. Unfortunately for Murphy his love for her is turned into animalistic obsession that his now mutant brain translates as kill. So no Nathan doesn't have any companions post war. though pre war he and Murphy were nearly inseparable, and they both enjoyed the company of the squad they were put in when Aus joined the US. (they were both soldiers for the Republic of Aus before it got captured by The Reds, and then US forcefully took the territory with aussie help and willingly absorbed any remaining Aussies, as the land was war-torn . (Note: if you saw one previous posts that I have done that the aussies were treated poorly by the americans, I have since changed my mind)

32. What is their go-to weapon or weapon class?

MURPHY

Her excellent eyesight and aerial capabilities make her a prime sniper! though she isn't able to snipe till she gets some advice on how to modify a certain laser rifle to be lighter and long range, she struggles to use normal firearms because of her extra sensitive hearing so she was limited to a silenced pistol she 'found' (was sneakily given by deacon, she doesn't like taking gifts that she doesn't think she has earned) + earplugs until she was gifted a laser rifle out of pity for helping Danse at arcjet. She requires help for modifications since she is 3 int. She is below average strength and has an extremely limited carry capacity for flying so ultralight mods are essential. no heavy guns for you. prewar she was one of the first power armor 'willing' testers that survived (not unscathed) and their squad became one of the first to be power armored. so she got used to being able to wield very big guns with ease. misses it immensely. (wings mean no power armor). Always has a combat knife on her person, was caught defenseless while sleeping once prewar in anchorage and will never let that happen again, she only was saved by her squad noticing the camp intruder before they could kill her.

TANGO

Is not above using the armor itself as a weapon. has done so multiple times in the past with very gory results, doesn't do it often though as they dislike bloodying the armor cause they are a quite vain about it, as its basically their body now. likes the effectiveness of combat shotguns but doesn't use them often cause of the chance of splatter. so often settles for rifles. has a terrible habit of breaking or losing weapons so tend to pick up and horde them. along with ammo. You go into their secret workshop and its just full of weapons in all stages of repair and enough ammo for each to last a lifetime, scavver habits die hard. Doesn't mind heavy guns but finds carrying them around inconvenient enough to rarely use them. Its pretty hard to holster a minigun, even in power armor. Even though they don't have eyes as such anymore still is not great with pistols, prefers the looking down sights of longarms. Despite living in the armor for many a year by this point, they still get their ass handed to them by Danse in power-armored unarmed combat training, is VERY salty about it.

NATHAN

He is the weapon, a very large semi-aquatic stealthy monster. Though prewar he was a mechanic in the same squad as Murphy, and liked pistols as a backup, particularly .44 caliber. Wasn't ever in the thick of it like Murphy and the other PA operators were, though they came close to when one of the camps in anchorage was nearly invaded! Enjoyed time at the range whether it be hanging out with others, letting off some rage, or genuinely practicing

58. Do they believe in luck? Do they have a good luck charm?

MURPHY

If you ask her, she will say she doesn't believe in such nonsense, or perhaps she will crack a joke about her name and Murphy's law, but deep down she is surely becoming convinced that she has been cursed. she keeps surviving situations that she shouldn't have and every time with terrible prices to pay, how long until the price is too great she wonders, does lady luck treat debtors with kindness? she hopes so. Says she doesn't have a good luck charm, but has a chain separate from her bos holotags she wears under her shirt / suit with a growing collection of things from the 'prices shes had to pay': What was left of her Australian dogtags, Nathans wedding ring along with the empty casing of a .44 bullet, A small painted piece of Danse's t60 armor that was removed in repair for preparation of giving it to another paladin after BB, a warped and burnt piece of ornate metal of some kind, and a miniature plastic white chess pawn.

TANGO

Tango is very suspicious by nature, but also quite prideful thus doesn't believe in good luck as that would detract from their abilities. That mr gutsy in near mint condition they stumbled across before becoming Tango years ago? The many fusion cores they they just seem to trip over everywhere? Always having just enough ammo? all a result of their scavver skills not stupid luck! paradoxically they do believe in bad luck, especially that they became Tango. Though they do somewhat subconsciously know that they have lived far longer as tango that they ever would have if they hadn't stumbled into that particular branch of general atomics .. they weren't making many friends as a scavver but they sure had enemies. has conflicting thoughts on the matter. Doesn't have a good luck charm. doesn't really own much of anything at all tbh. other than scrap hoarding that is.

NATHAN

Believed in luck pre war. prime source of 'murphy's law' jokes. Despite believing in luck doesn't carry a charm of any sort, has a sort of relaxed view on the matter. acknowledges that Murphy has bad luck regularly when she trips over or is the only one splashed by a car on the rainy days. attributes a lot of his own small such occurrences to himself rather than luck though, ie he should have known better than to walk so close to the road on a rainy day, or that was stupid wearing a hat on a windy day even when nobody else lost theirs.

64. How / where do they generally sleep?

i should be asleep lol

MURPHY

Murphy sleeps during the day now, daytime is too bright for her sensitive eyes. so she only ventures outside in the day when absolutely necessary. She didn't really get a choice in the matter, the mutations completely rewired her internal clock ready for night combat operations. an incredibly nervous and anxious person by nature even prewar, she has always struggled with sleeping, she needs to feel safe before she can catch more than a fitful nap. the first few weeks in the new commonwealth are a bit blurry in her memory from lack of sleep haha. She only needs to feel safe, not actually be safe, some of the best sleep of her adult life was in active war zones prewar surrounded by her squad, the one day she stayed in the institute was the most nightmarish ordinary sleep shes ever had, outside of trauma nightmares.

TANGO

Tango doesn't really have a body that needs sleep anymore, though they still require some sleep to give their brain recovery and processing time like normal sleep provides. they will find a out of the way corner in friendly territory and will lock the armor in place so they don't inadvertently fall over. They have definitely gotten what constitutes quiet corners wrong though and have put themselves squarely in the way for hours haha. If they are not somewhere safe they will find somewhere defensible and will catnap until they feel awake enough to continue onward. Tango has been alone for so long that it hadn't occurred to them that when traveling with others that they can take turns keeping watch and sleeping! score another point towards Tango's 'oh shit maybe this whole 'friends' isn't so bad after all' tally.

NATHAN

Deep sleeper, snoring machine. 'who tf brought a chainsaw into the barracks???' type zzzzzz. Can and often used to fall asleep in unlikely places. At the pub. On the 'bird to the drop zone. Waiting for sleep deprived Murphy to figure out how to get baby Shaun into the new car seat that one time ("why are there so many buckles???"). Now as a mutant will camouflage in some mud somewhere secluded, or will find a damp hidey-hole somewhere to curl up. Needs so much sleep postwar, spends most of his time sleeping, which is great for everyone else since when he is not sleeping he is hunting at night.

[rukakaru-u]

DGM 252 thoughts/questions

Finally, we met briefly Past Lavi and Allen. I suspected that the Jr was named Lavi since Hoshino said that Lavi will be back just not in a way that we might expect lol So, yay, I'm happy~

So abaut P!Lavi/past Jr:

We still don't know much about him, but P!Lavi has a casual demeanor (and appearance) that is reminiscent of current Lavi. Since "Lavi" is a role and the name of a record, they might act similarly because that's what the persona calls for. "Lavi" has to be a certain way when recording the holy war. But it also seems like that P!Lavi is the way he is, because it is closer to his true nature, or being/playing Lavi is the easiest for him out of all aliases.

Staying on the topic of Bookmen clan customs: If a Jr is chosen/destined to have this role, why choose people who have the potential to get attached? Is this part of their journey? Their final challenge? It is funny that both Lavis got attached to specifically "Allen" (even if for P!Lavi it was Nea first). What is the connection between the two Lavis and how much Bookman knew about the truth/manipulated the outcome?

About Pasta:

So he used to be a soldier... While dying, it looks like he is wearing a typical 19th-century military uniform. Was he fighting against other people? How long was he in the military? (Was it his choice?) Did he kill people? Did he regret it? Allen is against killing, but Red isn't necessary if he is cornered (tormented enough). Pasta is closer to (a healthier) Red personality-wise, but it is hard to tell right now.

Nea's deal:

So Pasta was dying and a supernatural entity appeared out of nowhere, and he made a deal with him. This means that it doesn't matter which body or timeline he is in, if, in a desperate situation, Allen will make a promise or a contract with any version of the Earl (devil). Maybe it is important that it happened 3 times, and it birthed 3 different Allens. (The twist may be that Allen even knew the OG Earl in one of his past lives lol). Why Allen though? Nea doesn't trust easy, he can't allow himself. Did one of their other versions *actually* meet even before that? Did he sense something else in Pasta? Did he want to make a deal with him for a long time and wait until he could corner Pasta? Did Pasta's pain signal him somehow, like the Earl knows who is grieving? Did Nea approach many other people until he found the one? It might be that Pasta's wish was the dealmaker. Probably it was a selfless one, that would be very on-brand for Allen.

Nea considers Pasta his dear friend, despite their (so far) brief history... I like the idea that Nea just gets attached easily to people that he finds sympathetic, or Allen going along impacted him greatly. But I might love it more if it was only a onesided friendship this whole time and he is that delusional about what it meant to Pasta lmao It was a love at first sight for him, but for Pasta it was more transactional. (Probably not though)

Anyway, is Nea making Pasta his host similar to the way the Earl creates Akuma? Souls have names, and something is alive after you name it. It is possible that Pasta's name wasn't Allen, and it is something Nea gave him after the contract.

About Apo

Apo is at it again. Hoshino just uses him to be blamed for every misfortune in Allen's life. It is fun that CC meant to eat Pasta, but now Allen is such a peculiar accomodator. What makes Allen so special, that Apo had a change of heart? Is it because he has 2 entities inside him that are trying to kill him, and he is still standing? It is him having strong emotions that the innocence can feed on?

As usual more questions than answers ❤️

[woodelf68]

LOKI 2.4

I don't see why they can't keep Dox in Holding forever; they had no problem pruning Lokis into the Void for forever. >.>

Dammit, Sylvie, it would have taken OB and Victor five seconds to sign each other's copies of the TVA Guidebook; could you not let them have their brief moment of fanboying joy?

OB's explanation of the Loom is very helpful here; it reminds me of the Doctor on Doctor Who explaining sciencey things to his companions on screen so that the kiddies (and adults, lol) at home could understand what was going on. (Okay, so the TVA as a TARDIS, discuss. Look at all those long corridors its got for running in!) I loved OB's "...the backlog of branches that was created when someone...*looks accusingly at Sylvie* ...killed He Who Remains and released all those branches and ruined my life." (Aw, come on, OB, you're out of the basement now! You're making friends and meeting admirers of your work!)

Loki claiming that the little figure in the model was clearly not him so why did he have to be the one to 'hoof it' and lob the throughput multiplier into the Loom? Well, Loki, you have very long legs and can run fast, also tradition has been established that your character is the one who gets sent to do the hard jobs for others; just be glad you're not being asked to steal Surtur's flame and doom Asgard this time around. (Of course, your decision to abscond with the Tesseract has already caused the TVA to erase the Asgard of your timeline, people and realm both, so...uh, never mind, pretend I never said anything.)

MOBIUS AND HIS PIE AGAIN. I SWEAR TO GOD THAT THE TVA LACES THE PIE WITH DRUGS TO KEEP ITS WORKERS DOCILE AND HAPPY WITH HAVING NO LIFE OUTSIDE OF WORK AND POSSIBLY ACTS AS A CONTINUAL DOSAGE OF SOMETHING THAT KEEPS THEM FROM REGAINING THEIR MEMORIES? MOBIUS CAN'T GO TOO LONG WITHOUT ANOTHER SLICE OF PIE BECAUSE HE'S EXPERIENCING THE WITHDRAWAL SYMPTOMS OF AN ADDICT. I was so happy to hear Sylvie call him out on his pie-seeking habits and his refusal to try to find out any information about the timeline he was pulled from. Like sure it might hurt to remember a family whom he'd lost, but I'd rather honour the memories of loved ones by remembering them than being too cowardly to do so.

I have to agree with the point I saw raised in another post of 'WHY do they have to fix the Loom? Surely all the multiple timelines managed to exist just fine on their own before it was created?' Also, hoo boy, did Loki's speech about how you can't free a people and then leave them to look after themselves remind anyone else of Asgard's justification of being the ruler of the Nine Realms? Keeping a military presence on those conquered worlds? AND NO, LOKI, YOU'RE NOT A GOD, YOUR DAD TOLD ME SO IN A BIT OF THE SACRED TIMELINE YOU DIDN'T GET TO EXPERIENCE. Although this time at the TVA is Loki's post-Thanos period when he was claiming the same thing in the Sacred Timeline, wanting to be a 'benevolent god'. So...that actually ties in.

Um -- do we all agree that Miss Minutes looked orgasmic watching everyone (except Brad) be crushed in the cube thingie?

(Was Loki pruning himself related back to the time slipping thing? I still don't really understand what the point of that was.)

OB: But if I reboot Miss Minutes, we'll lose the magic dampeners in the TVA!

Loki and Sylvie: THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF A PROBLEM!

Oh hell yeah, Bradley, prune that bitch! I HOPE YOU END UP IN THE VOID WITH A HUNGRY ALLIGATOR, RAVONNA.

Kudos to Timely for sensibly asking if it's safe before sticking his head inside some alien machinery and not just blindly following instructions.

LIGHT! BEAUTIFUL LIGHT IN THE TVA! I don't care what this means as long as I can properly see what's going on!

Oh. Oh shit. Spaghettification is what's going on, huh. *Salutes Victor Timely* May you get the afterlife you hoped for, sir, you died a noble death. Guys. Guys, stop staring into the blinding radioactive light; I'm sure that's not good for your eyes.

And...what a cliffhanger; it's like FINALLY all the pieces are falling into place and the story is getting to someplace exciting. That was a good episode; I hope it keeps up this pace next week and something good happens if the Loom is going pear-shaped. I gotta try to remember to watch this on Thursday for a change.

@delyth88 -- finally felt inspired to make a long reaction post! (And my stupid computer glitched about 2/3 of the way through and I had to rewatch what I'd already seen to remember what I had been commenting on! I blame the TVA.)

[nectar-cellar]

5 Facts about Count Vladislaus Straud IV 

@holocene-sims Anna, thank you for sending this in and sparking my inspiration! I’ll be using this prompt as a character-building exercise for Vlad. He has absolutely grown into one of my favorite sims and it was long overdue. Warning, I wrote a lot over the weekend and I enjoyed every minute of it. 

In the pics above, I aged him down to create what he would’ve looked like as a young, gloomy nobleman. This would have been before he became a vampire. I gave him a softer, more melancholic expression, you’ll understand why. He's aged like fine wine, hasn’t he? Human Vlad or Grand Master Vampire Vlad, I can’t choose, I love them both.

Some notes: 

I used the Sims Wiki lore as a starting point but I never force myself to stick too strictly to what is canon with any of my premade sims. The lore gave me some good ideas though.

I kept the timeline vague because I’m pretty ignorant about historical time periods but I imagine Vlad was a human sometime in the 1800s. History buffs, feel free to correct me. I didn’t end up taking more pictures because I have no period-appropriate attire, oh well.  

Content warning: blood, violence, war, murder. He didn’t exactly have a fun human life.

Fact 1. 

Vlad was born into an upper-middle class family in Eastern Europe. His father was a high-ranking military officer, and his mother was a music teacher. As a child, Vlad was pulled in two directions: his mother wanted to cultivate his love for literature and his talent for music, while his father wanted him to follow in his footsteps as a military officer, and take interest in more traditionally masculine pursuits. He grew up in a home that was materially privileged but emotionally chaotic. 

After Vlad came of age, he followed his father’s wishes and joined the military, hoping to finally earn his approval and carry on the family legacy. Reserved, proper and soft-spoken, Vlad quickly found that he did not fit in with his peers, nor did he enjoy the harsh, physically intense, and strict authoritarian environment of the military. The bare conditions of the camps, the long and tiring days, and the constant travel made Vlad disillusioned with the life that he had been pressured to choose, and the career that lay ahead of him. His mother had desperately wished for him to study the arts at university instead, and Vlad would later wonder what life would have been like if he’d been brave enough to take a different path. 

Vlad’s performance as a soldier was poor. His meek personality, his weak physical strength, and his inferior performance made him the target of his peers and his superiors’ bullying. His father’s high status made his incompetence even more humiliating, and worse, prevented him from being dismissed from the military like the other flunkies. 

Fact 2.

One of Vlad’s formative childhood memories was when his father brought home a rabbit he had hunted, and forced the young boy to prepare it for his mother to cook. Vlad remembers being repulsed by the act of butchering the animal while his father instructed him in an increasingly loud and agitated manner. Finally, Vlad vomited from stress and disgust, then his father angrily took over. Vlad left the kitchen but the sound of the knife hitting the chopping block in a rage was heard all throughout the house. Later, dinner was eaten in silence. 

Vlad was traumatized by the incident, but afterwards became morbidly fascinated with animal and human biology, and mortality. He never quite saw the world the same way again.

Fact 3.

Vlad’s time in the army changed him into a tougher, crueler, and desensitized version of himself. He remembers how powerful he felt the first time he fought back against a fellow soldier who had been antagonizing him in the barracks, and won. He had never been one for violence until he discovered how good it felt to beat an enemy into bloody submission with his bare hands. He remembers the stunned silence of the onlookers, and how people acted differently towards him after that. He was treated with slightly more respect, or at least left alone more often. 

Vlad remembers the first time he killed someone in battle. He had downed an enemy soldier on the field with his firearm, and had gone over to check. The man was critically injured and bloodied, but not dead. Vlad then shot him a second time, in the head, at point blank range. He was later congratulated by his teammates who had witnessed the murder. Vlad remembers how the fallen enemy had been a young man, just like him. His face had been frozen in shock, his body convulsing with shallow, panicked breaths as he bled out. Vlad had shot him a second time to end his suffering. Vlad knew the reality of war was to kill or be killed, but he didn’t know if it was more ethical to end someone’s life or merely injure them enough to preserve his own safety. As the battles continued, he stopped caring. 

Fact 4.

During the war, a small team of 25 soldiers, including Vlad, was sent to an isolated, mountainous region (what is now Forgotten Hollow) on a reconnaissance mission to explore the possibility of setting up a military base in the area. While traveling through the woods, the troop was attacked by vampire bats, but Vlad was the only one bitten. Soon after, he became inexplicably pale, weak, and averse to sunlight, to the unsympathetic disdain of the others. He became hungrier than usual, and he found himself strangely fixated on the necks, exposed skin, and bloodied bandages of his fellow soldiers. 

Late one night, towards the end of the mission, Vlad overheard a group of soldiers talking as he was taking a walk by himself around the outskirts of the base camp to get some fresh air. Most of the others had already gone to sleep. Although he felt feverish, weak, and he had a piercing headache, his other senses, like smell and hearing, were strangely sharper than ever before. The soldiers were discussing the troop’s plans to abandon him at the site due to his weakened state and overall lack of competence as a soldier, and to explain away his death as an illness or an accident. Vlad realized this conspiracy to get rid of him had been brewing for a while, and they were going to seize the opportunity while he was mysteriously sick. The oddly small size of the troop and the suspiciously faraway location they were exploring suddenly made sense to him. 

An animalistic rage unlike anything he’d ever felt before took hold of him and he attacked the group, lunging at their necks. The next thing Vlad knew, he woke up in the middle of the campsite at dawn, feeling vaguely injured but not in pain, and surrounded by the drained, mutilated, and semi-devoured bodies of all his former troop members. The air was heavy with the smell of blood and meat. Vlad remembers how he was no longer hungry, weak, or scared. All he felt was a calm realization followed by relief that he had survived the ordeal.

Although the region would not make a useful military base or attractive settlement due to its isolated location and depressing weather, the surroundings did provide a strangely cozy place for a homestead. Surrounded by tall mountains, thick forests, and close to a few small lakes, Vlad had at last found his safe haven. Newly invigorated, he began to dispose of the bodies and the evidence, and build a shelter from the usable camp supplies left behind. It would be a while before the military sent another troop to check on them, and he had plenty of time to think about his alibi and future plans while he waited. No one would ever know what happened on that failed reconnaissance mission.

Fact 5   

War, betrayal, and trauma made Vlad a cruel, violent, and power-hungry ruler of the small town of Forgotten Hollow. At first, when the town was newly founded, he kept his vampirism a secret and fed on wild animals and livestock. As the decades went by, and more people settled into the town, he became bolder with terrorizing the residents, feeding on humans, and turning humans into younger and weaker vampires under his control. He also returned to the aristocratic lifestyle he had before his military service, building a mansion for himself and pursuing his interests in reading, music, and art. He cultivated the appearance of a charismatic, worldly, and well-groomed gentleman to covertly move through human society, and to better seduce and disarm his victims. 

Vlad’s reign of terror only came to an end when the other vampires in the town, particularly the Vatore siblings, banded together to overpower him and report him to the International Council of Occult Beings, a council headed by the world’s most powerful occult beings to govern the supernatural population. After a lengthy trial, as punishment for breaking numerous Vampire Code of Ethics laws, Vlad’s vampiric abilities were severely restricted by magic, he was exiled from Forgotten Hollow, and forced to live in the supernatural community of Moonlight Falls where he would be monitored and unable to act with impunity against a vulnerable human population.    

In the aftermath of his trial and punishment, Vlad is content to turn over a new leaf. He admits that at some point, his descent into depravity was no longer justified by his past. All he can do is resolve to change for the better, and he knows there will be harsher consequences from the Council if he does not obey their laws. He is even thankful to have the opportunity to rediscover the humanity and softness he once had a long, long time ago. He knows the regret and guilt he feels are signs that there is hope for him. Still, he wonders if the monstrous, evil side of him, the side of him that delighted in causing pain and terror, can ever be fully put back in its cage. He thinks it’s best if he isolates himself in his mansion and stays far away from everyone. 

These days, Vlad’s favorite pastimes are playing classical pieces on the piano, reading books by candlelight, and sipping on chilled packs of ethically sourced, cruelty free, non-human-based plasma from a wine glass.  

[paramounticebound]

~ Character Info Sheet

name: Sibahl Khan Noonien Singh

name meaning: 'Khan', often a surname, is derived from the historic title khan, referring to a military chief or royalty. Ruler, leader, king. / 'Noonien' is of Chinese origin and means "gifted one". The story goes that Gene Roddenberry, in the midst of the Cold War, was attempting to find a friend with this name and hoped seeing it on the big screen would enable them to connect again. / 'Singh' is a Punjabi/Sikh surname, derived from the Sanskrit word सिंह (IAST: siṃha) meaning "lion", and is used in the sense of "hero" or "eminent person". ['Sibahl' is rooted from two different sanskrit words: 'singh' which means lion and 'bal' which means strength.]

tl;dr his name is an amalgamation of different cultural roots, while the general meanings remain consistent.

alias/es: The Augmented Prince, The Augmented Tyrant, John Harrison, Captain, Popsicle, KHAAAAN

ethnicity: indian british now ig thanks section 31 ┐('～`；)┌

one picture you like best of your chara:

and his alternate fc b/c i have no chill:

three h/cs you've never told anyone:

His name, I suppose. Learning that 'Khan Noonien Singh' was not the original name for the character sort of set me off, along with the moment in the comic where he took on a new moniker. Sibahl is the name that Sarina gave him, and sometimes he still tastes it in the back of his throat; yet when he'd realized what he must become to lead his people, he shed it in favor of KHAN.

While he fears failure and loss, Khan does not fear death. Truthfully, he finds the concept comforting in a way that words can barely describe. To return to the earth, to stardust, is so unfathomably beautiful-- to continue the cycle of life until it dissipates in entirety. His body will feed the soil, bacteria and carrion consuming all that he has to offer, and so he will live on and on in a way that the soul cannot. He's absolutely written poetry about it, and you'll never get to read it.

When he was a child, he was gifted a khanda by a close friend of Sarina's-- a historian and antique dealer. While it was originally ornamental in design, Khan sharpened and modified it to become a functional weapon.

While I generally consider him unable to scar, a wound from a previous rp partner yet transcends many of his verses. It's a scar just under his rib cage on the left side, vaguely in the shape of a sunburst.

three things your character likes doing in their free time:

Calligraphy-- he misses paper and ink, how his hands long to create instead of destroy.

Playing chess-- a way to destress while keeping the mind sharp.

Whittling-- he has occasionally been known to gift woodwork he's created. Not as often in his current timeline.

eight people your character likes / loves:

Marla McGivers (@sweetbitterbitten): A mad widower does not a worth leader make. Without her, insanity is the best comfort that can be had. With her-- oh, with her, Persephone to his Hades, he is fit to rule in hell. He is fit to drag it wherever he needs it to be.

Fox Alkaev (@vuulpecula): After writing him for so long, Fox has become interwoven into his story, in some way or another. In every verse, he is somehow connected to her.

Sarina Kaur: Mother is God in the eyes of a child.

Joachim: What is a king without an advisor? This is his right hand man and greatest confidant.

Kati: Much like Joachim, he relies on her wisdom, either as a dampener to his righteous fury, or a kindling when blood must be shed.

Liesel Ivanov (@noblehcart ): Who else can dance only to melody of humming stars and thrumming hearts?

His unnamed child from Wrath of Khan/Ender (@middaysandmidnights): His child, his legacy, his lifeblood. The one whom he hopes will endure despite him.

The rest of his crew: without them, he is nothing, a dead end king, a freedom fighter without a cause.

Multiple muses that have melted his icy heart over the years. I'd make a giant post if you'd let me.

two things your character regrets:

Terran exile, and how long it has taken to regain a rightful throne. He wishes that he hadn't relied on the unknown to save them.

Letting any of his people die. Those that have still haunt him, ghosts ever present, continually chanting, "Our captain has left us behind."

two phobias your character has:

Claustrommetaphobia - fear of suffocation in an enclosed space.

Atychiphobia - an extreme fear of failure.

Tagged by : @ssolessurvivor <333

Tagging: @gcldenratio @asteritm @jundlcndwastes (juni!) @hcxcd @noblehcart (liesel!) @lastsurvivor @sweetbitterbitten (whomever you're feeling the most; or marla!) @vulku / @greatprotector @admiralchristopherpike @godresembled (rey!) @whydotheykeeptakingmine @learnedlucidity @hiislegacy @weavefcrged @primitiveside @dethqveen and YOU!

[sxrrandomfanfics]

I'm confused by the Psychonauts timeline. And I don't mean "Oh doesn't it take place in the 1980s cause of the second game having magazines?" vs "doesn't it take place in the 1800s because Fred validly being the great great great grandson of Napoleon Bonaparte and we can look up Napoleon's lineage and see that said great great great grandchildren lived in that age?" vs "Doesn't it take place in a futuristic 2000s because vibes?"

No no no no no.

I'm talking about what events took place in what order?

Like... Ford and Otto meet and decide to go to some place in the woods to study this thing called Psitanium. Many people think they dropped out of college but they could have also been like... geology majors...

And apparently Otto knew a hydrokinetic woman named Lucy from Grulovia so...

Mark that actually first in the timeline, Otto knew Lucy and knew a war was happening in Grulovia. Sometime after that, Otto and Ford meet and start studying Psitanium. Lucy's husband, Gelsin, dies in the war so she leaves. Leaving her sister behind.

Lucy and Ford start bonding long before other psychics join them, but then we don't know the exact order that people came in.

Compton, Cassie, and Bob are somewhere in the mix with Helmut being last but... which of them came first!? Was it Cassie who struggled to socialize with the others and only bonded with Ford? OR was it Compton because his psychic abilities were having trouble being honed and Ford was like- why don't we try to help? OR was it Bob who had no one else around and was probably aimlessly wandering or drunk? We don't know. Make it up yourself.

Helmut and Bob have a wedding, which... includes... Truman. Wait how old is Truman!? I thought he was younger than Augustus but Augustus is clearly around Raz's age (maybe older) in the memory vaults but now looks older than Truman.

Do we need to put THAT on the timeline, too!? *sigh* just... plot things out...

After that wedding the next point in the timeline is Lucrecia's return to Grulovia because the war eventually breaches its borders, and fearing for her sister's life, Lucrecia heads back. This is now a lot easier to plot out. Lucrecia heads back, turns the tide of war (pun intended), and becomes the War Minister under the Malik Crown. Lucrecia eventually creates mild floods at protests, and gains the moniker "Maligula" from either those of the crown, or the protestors. During this time, her letters start to no longer show up in the mail and Maligula gains a big name for herself (as we see with Psychic Times Magazine). The Deluge happens. Marona and Lazarus are killed and then she is left to succumb to her primal fight instincts that try to protect her from feeling the guilt and aiming her rage at those she blames to be the real cause of her sister's death. Other protestors, or even the crown. The Maliks flee, and after many militaries cannot get to Grulovia, they send in the small group of Psychics that have also probably been published in similar magazines (most likely thanks to Otto). The fight with Maligula happens, Helmut "dies," Ford "kills" Maligula, and he takes Maligula and Helmut's brain to the Heptadome.

Things get messy here again. Because while it may seem that Maligula's, Augustus's, and Ford's rewrites happened back to back in Helmut's memories of the incident, there's implications that it wasn't the case. Ford recalls at the end of "Tomb of the Sharkophogus" that "I had my Lucy back." This implies that he first used it to isolate Maligula. Afterall, it he remarks he had his Lucy. Ford goes on to say "But I knew the world would never forgive her. So I had to hide her somewhere safe."

Perhaps this was him still having her in the astrolaithe, BUT it could also be that he and Lucy came up with the plan of hiding her further from herself. Remember: Lucy accepted the name of Maligula before the Deluge (Cruller's Correspondence). It was even the name they featured her with on the Psychic magazine before the Deluge. But we don't know. This is a hole in our understanding. It's an even bigger hole with Raz saying that Ford was "the greatest leader the Psychonauts had ever seen," back in PN1 (before Maligula was the reason that Ford's mind became fucked up). Meaning that not only should Ford have at least a FEW missions under his belt, it would mean the back-to-back memory wipe makes no sense. But if the back-to-back memory wipe makes no sense then there would be no reason for Otto to have not known the brain in the jar was Helmut Fullbear! ESPECIALLY when Ford is supposedly out of it during Helmut's funeral and when Ford is at the founding of the Motherlobe.

Another hole in our understanding is even where Ford got the idea of the circus. Was it from Lazarus Aquato and his famous national aquatic circus that Augustus tells Raz about? Was it from the fact that the Galochios were supposed to have been a rival circus in the past? We don't get anything with that!

So what are we left with? I suppose it would have had to have been something like this - Ford rescues Lucy, but between all of her friends she believes she killed Helmut, as well as her sister. Possibly unable to deal with the grief, She begs Ford to help her redeem herself by saving Augustus. But Augustus, traumatized by the loss of his mother to his aunt rejects her until they're both locking their memories away. And then Ford... well there's another grey period.

What makes the MOST sense is that he was HAILED as the best leader the Psychonauts had because he was 1. The First, and 2. Took down Maligula. And basically immediately after tried to seal the memories of Lucy away with the Astrolaithe and accidentally broke his own mind by the time they had Helmut's funeral.

THEN we get into the New Leadership of the Psychonauts. Mostly led by Otto, but we also have Truman as the only other leader. Who is clearly old enough to have been at Helmut and Bob's wedding given the figments you can find in Bob's Bottles.

I'm guessing that Ford and Otto had their time as leaders, but when Cassie left, Truman was the one in charge. But that's only guess work. Truman could have just been leading the Psychonauts as the organization we know it since the beginning.

But the most IRRITATING part of the Psychonauts timeline is the current batch of agents. No, not Raz and the Juniors, I'm talking about the Senior Agents. The superstars.

Where did Sasha Nein, Milla Vodello, Hollis Forsythe, and Morceau Oleander come from?

Like... we know their backstories and where they were BEFORE the Psychonauts. But we only see Hollis recruited. And she's able to call the Psychonauts and get Truman to come on a mission to fix her mess.

But like... if the Psychonauts are just a phone call away, they're clearly established for the populous rather than the way they're called in like... the E3 reveal trailer by military. So HOW did she become SECOND HEAD? Who was Truman's second hand before her? Did he have one before her? Was this during a time that like... Otto and Compton were in charge?

Were Morceau, Sasha, and Milla already there? That would make the most sense, considering how popular and available the Psychonauts are. But then again, why would someone who got into the Psychonauts so late become the Second Head??

And it's not even that Hollis was an immediate field agent, as she dropped being a nurse and got a graduate degree in mathematics. So she either took off away from the Psychonauts and got that degree then came in later, or under the Psychonauts got her degree.

We don't have the order of half of the founding members, and we don't have the order of the modern psychonauts being recruited.

All. We have. Are Headcanons. And even then those clash a lot.

Like, I can say: "Oh I think Truman became leader fairly quickly thanks to his age being around 20s or 30s at the latest and Otto and Compton were struggling with trauma" but at the same time it's equally valid to say: "Ford was the leader who lost himself overtime rather than shattering immediately"

And sometimes that's great. But sometimes that can cause people to yell at one another.

What am I trying to get at?

Nothing I'm just neurodivergent about numbers and timelines are something I'm VERY neurodivergent for.