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atoriv-art · 5 days ago

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what are your thoughts on the hyuga siblings and their relationship

OOF now thats one of my favorite naruto dynamics lmao. i think neji and hinata have a very interesting relationship and i say that as someone who really didn't (and tbh still doesn't) love how that relationship developed in canon

i really like the hyuga fight in the chunin exams because the way it's perceived is sooo interesting to me.. neji comes off as an outright bully and i don't even blame the kids for calling him an asshole after all of that, but from reader's perspective it's really obvious that his animosity only exists because of a larger issue...

neji shouldn't treat hinata the way he does, but he does so because of her unique position as a scorned heir. she still benefits from everything that makes his life awful - her life is still valued more than his - but hiashi hates her enough that he won't care if neji dishes out verbal abuse on her. it's an awful dynamic and definitely contributes to hinata's terrible self-worth, but it's a symptom of the life they have been forced into by the man who the manga is intent on letting escape all of the blame for this situation lmao

(hiashi himself can be a really fascinating case honestly. i think he fully means everything he says, which is what makes him so grating but fun to me LOL. his apology to neji is entirely sincere AND it completely misses the point of all of the issues, but neji is young and deprived of acknowledgement enough that he accepts it wholeheartedly. hiashi thinks he's the best uncle of all time.)

hinata herself has so little belief in her own worth that she just sits there and takes whatever abuse people throw at her... i don't actually think neji's anger towards her was a constant - i think some people interpret it that way - rather i feel like it was something that came up whenever he was pushed too far. in more normal circumstances where he's not being made to fight her directly, he was likely more detached than anything. he wanted nothing to do with her.

in one of the filler mini arcs ive mentioned before (i think. the one that focuses on hanabi and hinata) there's a scene that rang very true to me (and im gonna recount this without rewatching it atm so sorry if i get details wrong,): neji was being made to train with hinata, asked to be allowed to leave because he felt his time was being wasted and correctly noted that it doesn't have to be him here, was told no by hiashi and then he started getting vicious and violent. towards hinata, of course, not hiashi. he then got horribly punished for it LOL i think that's the general dynamic they were living in, neji reaches a limit of disrespect that he can take and explodes on the nearest most acceptable target (we loove a boy with no emotional regulation <3), goes too far and suffers the consequence of it while nothing else changes. to him interacting with hinata at all is just asking for pain, either emotional or straight up physical

But, for hinata, she saw herself and neji as similar (the black sheep of the family i suppose), and would have liked to bond over that fact; theyve known each other since they were very little and she outright refers to him as a brother. it's clear to me she's always cared a lot about neji and imo feels responsible for what happened to his father (something that hiashi doesn't help with. Dad of the year), so she saw their match in the exams as a chance to close the distance between them and get neji to see her as a person, an equal instead of a symbol to lash out on.

but, you know, she was 12 LMAO so she ended up pressing all of his buttons instead and it led to his famous outburst, which led to the famous moment of Every Single Jonin (other than asuma.) coming to stop him and further cementing his belief that her life is seen as special. i think (and this is a mix of Shit I Made up, and Me trying to make sense of the manga's insane mishandling of their plotline) that despite her trying her hardest to reach neji she didn't really grasp the horror of his situation. that's the tragedy of neji's life really LMAO, no one really tries to grapple with the severity of what having that curse mark does to a person. she thought of his fatalism as more of a psychological, metaphorical way of dealing with hurt and not like... "my life literally does not belong to me no matter how much i try to fight it"

this is loooooong take this readmore.

i think hiashi-hizashi were hoping that the cousins could have had a better relationship than they did... letting them hang out often and stuff, introducing them early, hizashi not discouraging neji from being friendly with her, to me it all reads as very "ok well this didn't work for Us, but what if it works out for them... even though literally nothing has changed". they were proper family once and hizashi wanted to die for his brother, not his leader, so that just makes sense to me.

i do nautttt like the naruto vs neji fight so to keep the post positive i will gloss over it <3 but hinata and neji's relationship post-chunin exams to me is peak like. God i wish this was done better because it could have been soooo good

neji realizes that his anger is consuming him and adjusts his behavior accordingly, getting a lot of his kindness back, and he becomes intent on fixing his relationship with hinata... i don't hate that premise at all, it's just the way it's executed that bothers me!

the impression i got (and i could be mistaken im in the process of rewatching the anime + rereading the manga) is that their relationship getting better is done exclusively through like. neji repenting for being mean to her. which, don't get me wrong, he SHOULD apologize (AND THAT WOULDVE BEEN A COOL THING TO SEE ONSCREEN, BTW) but you CANNOT divorce his behavior from the hyuga system in general. from the way they act after the exams you would think their issues were born solely from neji being a bully for no reason, and not, like... him lashing out on her because his uncle is literally the devil.

i don't think hinata has the power to change a lot in her clan on short notice (she did get disowned. did that un-happen offscreen? we will never know. Hiashi gets to be a grandfather to her children btw.) but i certainly would have liked to see her standing up for branch members and in the stuff i draw that's the story i have in mind LMAO. like, her gaining a deeper understanding of neji's situation and trying to work against her father trying to make her cousin's life better? i think that would have been really sweet and even show her gaining more confidence in herself and her beliefs. you can still have neji fussing over her and being protective because he feels bad for how they used to be, i actually really like that because neji IS a very sweet person, i just reject the idea that it's his sole Moral Obligation to put everything aside and make things better by the power of I Will Die For You Now, But This Time, For The Right Reasons

as for hanabi i wish she had more screentime soooo bad because i'm obsessed with how she gives off Haunted Child vibes lmfao. talking abt her requires me to expose myself a little bit and have to admit hiashi is kind of a blorbo to me because of how much he sucks ass, but like. Essentially his insane resentment of hinata was born when hizashi died, it doesnt matter it wasn't really her fault, he needed someone to blame and he would never blame himself, at least not outwardly lol. hiashi did genuinely love his brother, it just didn't stop him from being a monster to him, and he is certainly not gonna grapple with that now that he's dead!

(and, you know, the whole "sorry we sent a guy to kidnap an heir. you do need to die for killing him though" thing is really dumb but if we stop at every single stupid thing in naruto we will be here all day.)

with all that being said i think hiashi tries his best to make hanabi everything hinata isn't, and he has very little interest in having her and hinata have any bond at all. he just left neji and hinata to fester in that god-awful dynamic with no supervising, and took hanabi as the best direction for the clan to head towards. but, you know, father of the year is very demanding and doesn't seem to be very fatherly to her at all from the little we see of them. she's just like. a good soldier, and that's what he needs.

i think hanabi growing to resent her sister for the situation she's been put into (if hinata weren't 'weak' she wouldn't have so much responsibility) is very interesting! by the time we meet her i think she's learned that the best thing to do wrt her sister is to just ignore that she exists. as for neji he barely registers as a presence to her; neji has no reason to interact with her and hiashi has no reason to incentivize it. it's very fun to me!

in general i really like all of their dynamics can be used to explore how hurt and trauma drive people apart, i could talk about them for hourssss LMAO i love the suna family for the same reason!

#ty anon :3 #asks #typed all this at 1am. thats the power of a yapping prompt folks

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qwimblenorrisstan · 3 months ago

Text

Surprise Pt. 5 | Soap x Reader

Summary: The boys learn that they don’t know you as well as they thought they did, while you find some newfound ‘friends’ in an American and his unofficial boss in Urzikstan.

Word Count: ~ 4.6k

Warnings: Descriptions of death, knives, blood, guns, explosions, debris, gas, torture, kidnapping, shooting, choking, heavy topics, biting, it’s a lot yall

A/N: umm sorry ive been gone for a week here’s some food!! *runs away* this is a big switchup though from mainly 141 to Alex, Farah, and a few more pieces of reader’s backstory so lmk any thoughts or theories (yk I love them) hope you enjoy<3 (side quest: find how many characters you can recognize from cod!)

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The first thing Captain John Price registered when he walked into the room, the rest of his Task Force following closely behind, was that they were in some deep shit. They’d just gotten back from a mission. The one they’d been called into during the volleyball game. It had been low stakes, but instead of going back to the apartment, they’d been told to get back to base as soon as possible.

Laswell was pacing back and forth, fidgeting, two things she never did unless everything was falling apart at the seams. The last time he’d seen her so worked up had been years ago. When she caught sight of him, there was no sigh of relief or relaxation, she breathed out four words.

”They got her, John.”

He tried not to let the tension in his body show, tried not to look just how internally panicked he was right now. Simon stiffened, hands balling into fists. Price knew it was a conscious effort to not lash out immediately.

”What.”

Ghosh ground out, eyes narrowed. Soap tried putting a hand on his shoulder, a hand that Simon only shoved off immediately. Laswell just shook her head, looking to be in shock as she only sat down at one of the chairs in the dimly lit room, pulling documents out from a drawer under the long table.

Price was the first to sit, followed by Gaz, then Soap, and finally, Simon who refused to relax, his leg bouncing impatiently under the table, hands on his knees.

Laswell opened one of the files, sliding it around to where they could see it. Lo and behold, it was a picture of you from a few years back, maybe when you’d been 14 or 15. You shouldn’t have been able to get in that early, it shouldn’t have even been possible. You wore a uniform, the file listing you by your first and last name, your callsign in the center. There was no official position or branch like there should’ve been.

“Wasp.”

Price stared at it for a few moments, reading whatever he could glean over in the file before glancing up at Laswell, who in turn pulled another file out. This one looked newer, the corners were not bent or warped yet. When she opened it, there was no picture on file. This time, it stated “Marines” as your branch. Your last name was listed as “Woods” instead of Riley.

To keep Simon from finding you on the database, most likely. Or someone else.

And the thing that caught his attention the most?

The “Captain” title right next to your first name.

”That’s nae possible.”

Soap said, jaw clenched as he glanced at Simon, the man refusing to meet his eye, glaring down at the files.

”It is,”

Laswell said, breathing out a shaky breath. Trying to calm herself, Price knew.

”They found her in a camp at 12, Frank Woods took her in, pulled some strings, and enrolled her early off record. He kept her mostly off base in a safe house until she turned 18.”

Gaz’s gaze was on Laswell now, narrowed, pinned on her. Interrogation was his specialty, after all.

”A camp?”

A nod.

”Essentially a POW camp, her relations to Ghost meant she was a valuable asset to bargain.”

Price didn’t need to glance over at Ghost to see the way he’d nearly stopped breathing, the shock being a common aspect among the group. Gaz let out a deep breath, hand going to hold the brim of his cap, his gloved finger running along the seam.

”Then how the bloody hell is she in high school?”

Simon asked, trying to reason with how this could’ve happened, how you could’ve lied to them, to him, for so long about everything and he’d never even caught on. It hadn’t been a volleyball camp keeping you from attending his mum’s funeral, it had been a POW camp, one you had been in because of him in the first place. And the new, somewhat stable foster home you’d been in? A safe house provided by your new foster parent, Frank Woods, an American Sergeant that Simon had heard whispers of.

He’d allegedly been a force to reckon with during the Korean and Vietnam wars, retired now and pushing 60 probably, but no less legendary by military standards.

”She’s 23, Lieutenant. It was a cover mission.”

Another surprise.

Another lie.

“Steamin’ Jesus…”

Soap muttered, the gleam in his eye dimming from what was most likely concern.

”It was an undercover mission, but with her gone, I don’t know how we’ll handle Nova…”

Laswell muttered to herself, catching herself just in time to shut her mouth then and there, probably realizing she’d already said too much, when Price stood up, staring her down.

”Nova? The hell is that?”

He asked sternly, and Laswell gathered the files in her hands, putting them neatly back into stacks, falling back into the controlled woman he usually saw her as.

”That’s classified, John.”

“Considering we’re closely involved with her, I don’t think it is, Kate.”

He saw the slight whiplash it gave her to call her by her first name, which made sense considering it was always Laswell. Her face grew stern, despite the worried frown lines already carving into her face.

”Don’t. We’ll get her back.”

The rest of the boys watched as she walked out of the room, Gaz muttering something sarcastic under his breath, Price pacing, Soap cursing not so quietly under his breath in his full unbridled accent, and Ghost sitting deathly still.

”I’ll talk to Briggs.”

Price said firmly, words stiff as he walked out of the room.

A moment of silence between the remaining three in the room.

Soap was the first to speak.

“Fuck!”

The sweet and irony smell of blood filled your nose as you shakily tried to move, limbs trembling for some reason.

Blinking to try and clear the blurriness in them, you opened your eyes, only to begin rapidly blinking as something small and grainy lifted from a sudden draft and blew into your eyes.

Sand.

You hated sand. The way it shifted under your feet, how it got under all your clothing and in your mouth, under your nails, and in your shoes. The grainy, grinding texture of it against your skin when you had a high-stakes mission and had to lie in it, waiting for the perfect shot.

But sand of this texture was in a handful of places, so at least you could narrow your location down a bit. Getting up and looking around would also help.

You were in a small room, from the looks of it, leaning against a wooden beam that dug at the clothing on your back with jagged edges. Textured, colorfully patterned quilts and blankets hung around, and shifting your head to turn right despite how it throbbed, you saw a corkboard filled with pins and images of people, locations, and notes. A few of the faces were recognizable, not in a good way though. Recognizable in the sense that you had seen those faces before you thought you’d killed them.

The sandy floor beneath you had wood underneath, by the feel of it. Your palms pushed against the floor, trying to get the leverage to stand up, only for you to slump against the wood again.

You needed to get up.

This time using your good leg to push against the floor, as well as your palms, you got almost halfway up the beam, nearly standing, when the sand made your foot slide back out and you fell onto the floor again.

A small, breathy chuckle from the other side of the room had you immediately turning your head, the quick movement making it spin slightly, even as you heard the sound of metal moving against the floor as well as only one footstep every few seconds.

“I don’t like the sand either. Hard on my leg, or what’s left of it, anyways.”

The American from earlier came in, maybe Alex? You’d been so disoriented when he’d told you that you could hardly remember. Fragments of foggy bits came to light, but nothing more than that.

His hair was a sandy color, dirty blonde almost, with a mustache and hair that was sticking almost straight up but short enough to not look ridiculous. His one leg was perfectly normal, but on the other, there was a curved piece of metal to replace the lower half of it where a nub was all that was left.

He offered you a hand, one you hesitated before taking. An American soldier wasn’t a threat, or at least shouldn’t be. He pulled you up as you stumbled to your feet.

“Where are we?”

Your raspy voice asked, throat dry. You tried to clear it to no avail. He grabbed a canteen from a table a few feet away, near the corkboard, and handed it to you with the lid already popped off.

“Zaravan City, Urzikstan. We’re not close to much anything, though, this is one of our safe houses.”

He spoke while you chugged the water, it flowing down your throat mercifully and filling your empty stomach, only serving to remind you that you were also starving. Food could wait, though. When you handed the nearly empty canteen back to him with a small sigh, you raised a brow.

“Our?”

A woman’s voice, thick with a familiar accent, spoke then.

“Yes, our.”

She was standing by the corkboard, glancing over the information with a sharp eye, before walking over to Alex. Her hair was dark and thick, tied tightly back into what seemed to be a ponytail beneath her dark garb. A gun hung from her hip, something semi-automatic. You weren’t sure if that was legal or not here, but couldn’t find it within you to care.

“Farah, in case you don’t remember, Riley.”

You were glad she’d told you because you most definitely did not remember her name. Her gaze met yours, and you held it for a long minute, recognizable facial features coming to your mind, like a dream, you could reach but not quite hold. And then—you remembered.

“Karim,”

You breathed, eyes narrowing. General Karim had proven to be more than capable more times than once during the scandals throughout Urzikstan, especially to the boys.

The boys.

You’d nearly forgotten until now, but you wondered just how much they knew. Whether someone had spilled, or Laswell had told them everything. They would probably be biting at the leash, but there was nothing that could be done now, not with the mission having failed.

They were on their own now.

Farah nodded.

“It is not every day we find an American in a Mexican facility,”

A pointed glance at Alex, whose lips curled slightly up at that.

You grumbled, legs still shaky, probably from the gas that had managed to slip in before you’d put the gas mask on doing rounds through your body, the last of it yet to leave. Managing to stumble over to a chair near a small round table in the corner of the room, you sat down, it groaning under your weight.

“Not every day I see a group from America and Urzikstan in a Mexican facility.”

You shot back and watched as Farah and Alex exchanged a glance, a silent conversation happening right in front of you. Rude, but you couldn’t say you hadn’t done the same thing before.

Alex sighed, grabbing the chair with one hand and easing himself down onto it with his leg, propping the prosthetic up on a nearby crate.

His blue eyes met yours as he set one elbow down on the table.

“We were going after Santiago Garza, a key member of their cartel, which we have reason to believe has…”

He exchanged a glance with Farah, who gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head.

“…access to things he shouldn’t.”

Alex finished. Farah spoke next, already sensing your oncoming interrogation despite not being in control of the situation.

“We answered yours, now answer our question. Why did he want you?”

Her tone was demanding, leaving no wiggle room for you to try and keep anything from her. If this whole arrangement was going to work out, you were going to have to be transparent with them, anyway. Or as transparent as you could be.

“I have a… personal history with the Garza family. Not a pretty one.”

Farah pressed her lips together but didn’t question further.

The American wasn’t as smart.

“What kind of history?”

He asked, brows raised in an almost innocent expression if it weren’t for the gleam of suspicion in his eyes. You shook your head. Not willing to talk about it. Not now. Woods was the only one you’d ever talked to about it, other than David when the bastard was even there.

Which hadn’t been often.

“What’s the date?”

You then asked. If you’d been captured in America, and then taken to a supposed Mexican facility, then to Urzikstan, it must’ve taken quite a while. Not to mention the travel from there to the safe house…

“The 24th.”

Farah answered, hands moving to idly wipe sand off of the barrel of her gun, back leaning against the wooden post. Her finger remained near the trigger. Untrusting.

It had been nearly four days.

By then, someone had to have noticed the body of Nalani in your room, and your obvious absence. A homicide and a missing person’s case as well, most likely. The boys had definitely heard of it then, despite what you assumed was a mission they were on, considering how early they left that volleyball game.

Had Woods been informed? Had anyone on your team been informed, or were they still too deep in their work in your absence?

Alex’s eyes snapped to the window as he heard something rustling outside, and within moments he was down on his haunches, you and Farah were quick to follow as he lifted one of the thin sheets lying over the windows from the bottom, glancing out for a second.

The pain in your limbs was barely even noticeable compared to the mini-adrenaline rush you were flooded with, mind and body sharp and alert. You’d performed while in much worse conditions, you could manage this one just fine, you were sure.

But without a weapon, you were defenseless.

Reaching for a gun that was laid out on the table, Alex’s hand grabbing your wrist stopped you and refused to let you grab it.

“We’ll handle this, stay inside.”

He said in a hushed tone, voice firm, even though Farah was the one with the most authority here over the both of you.

Farah slowly opened the door, peeking out, dark eyes scanning the dusty roads and markets, when several shots rang out, feminine screams following quickly as the sound of people running became all too obvious.

“Al-Qatala.”

Farah murmured, jerking her chin to Alex, before slipping her gun from her side and walking out of the door, the American man giving you one last glance that clearly said “Stay here.” before following.

Racking your brain, you tried to remember anything that might help you. Urzikstan. A small country in Western Asia. Violence wasn’t uncommon, by the sound of it. And Al-Qatala…try as you might, you couldn’t remember anything about whoever they were. Maybe some sort of gang? Probably, judging by the gunfire and angry Arabic being barked out in the streets.

But you weren’t going to be helpless, stuck in this tiny “safe house” that had two entrances and one large window a man could easily fit through. You stood up, careful to stay clear of the window to avoid catching any strays, only to find the gun that had been on the table gone.

Alex must’ve taken it.

They surely had more weapons somewhere, except for the fact that no matter where you searched, there was nothing to be found. Nothing except documents of blacked-out information, pictures on the board, and a small stash of food and water lying around. A lot of dates, too.

It wasn’t an ideal situation, but you could work with it.

A few strands of rope that you quickly picked up were lying around. Every lesson you’d overheard Woods giving to his team, drilling it into their heads, began repeating in your mind. Like a dream, almost.

“Can any of you boys tell me the five rules of guerrilla warfare?”

His voice, sharp and brusque but not hostile, asked the men in front of him.

You were crouched down, hiding in one of the small areas where the metal of the walls dented outwards slightly, giving you an area to lay down and peek through at him.

One of the men raised his hand in a salute, chapped lips opening to speak.

“Hit and run, sir!”

Woods nodded, hand shooting out to point at another man down the line of soldiers. Mostly young boys who stupidly enlisted, living for their country and dying for it. You didn’t see the point, even if Woods did. You’d never seen the point, not even when Simon had enlisted.

He could’ve been one of the dead.

He still might be. You hadn’t seen him in a while.

“Ambush, sir!”

You snapped back into focus at that, eyes watching keenly as the man nodded again. He had a habit of it; nodding very often. Even if you just inclined to take a bite of soup, he’d nod. The praise was sort of nice, you supposed. Even if you barely knew him, just having arrived here a few weeks ago.

They’d found you on one of the starving horses from the camps, near the front of the marching people, leading their way to freedom despite how sickly and beaten most were. You weren’t much better.

And when the bastard controlling that camp must’ve ordered his remaining men to circle like vultures and take out as many of the surviving prisoners as he could?

Everyone alive after the vicious attack had huddled together in a small cave, the people at the entrance usually being shot from overhead planes by the men too cowardly to approach.

They’d found you huddled up, a warm body on top of you, on one of the sides. Thrown you over their shoulder. Taken you away despite your hitting and biting, and brought you here to domesticate you again. They weren’t bad. They were just soldiers. And soldiers were all about duty and honor, two things you couldn’t find within yourself to care about much anymore. You wondered if Simon still cared about them, or if he’d been numb to it for much longer. After the death of his mother, and how pissed he’d been that you’d missed the funeral, you seriously doubted it.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you watched Woods nod again. You must’ve missed the others, but you knew them by heart by now. After watching and listening for so long.

Harassment.

Mobility.

And finally…

“Surprise.”

A hand grabbed you by the arm, yanking you forward and through the wall, through the hole you’d been watching from. Woods held you by the arm infuriatingly easily, which made sense considering how much of a runt you were. Or had been at the time.

The metal had scraped against your shoulder, cutting open a shallow scratch from collarbone to right arm. You glared at him, kicking at him even as his soldiers chuckled.

Laughing at you.

You despised how patronizing it felt, leaning forward and sinking your deceivingly sharp teeth into the wrist of his hand that held you. Blood drew, and he didn’t drop you, simply moving to hold you in his other arm, smiling warmly at you as his shoulders shook from silent laughter.

“Feisty, huh?”

He said in an amused tone, ruffling your hair while someone went to grab a medic.

The memory felt warm and fuzzy, a reminder of a long time ago, though it only felt like yesterday.

But you had more important things to do than have an existential crisis.

Spying a fan in the corner, you pried the metal caging off, wrapping both hands around one of the metal pieces on it, and yanking until a piece came off. Jagged and sharp. Just how you needed it.

Wrapping your little pieces of rope around the base to protect your hand, you crept towards the back exit, listening for the sounds of any footsteps nearby. It would be hard to overhear, especially with the sounds of yelling, screaming, and gunfire in the streets. You wondered if your little makeshift friends had joined the dead or not.

A near-silent step, a branch accidentally cracking under his step, and you were on him.

Hit and run.

The metal slid smoothly into his throat, a quiet wheeze being all he could get out before you leaned his body back, watching his eyes glaze over as the blood ebbed and flowed. You pulled the gun from his hands, searching and taking what was left of his weapons as well.

One flash bang.

One knife, the case of which you strapped onto your hip, the flash bang being tucked into it soon after.

Mobility.

You crouched down, glancing left and right on the street, and breaking into a low sprint to a building down the dusty road. A restaurant by the looks of it. You couldn’t read the Arabic on the front, it having been one of the languages you hadn’t learned, even in your training for Special Forces.

More if the men flooded the streets just as you ducked behind the counter. Letting them all know you were here with gunfire wasn’t beneficial yet, not when you were so badly outnumbered. You needed to find the central point they were getting in from.

You needed to move.

Waiting for the men to pass by, you eventually went out of the back exit of the restaurant, passing the cool chill of its freezer near the kitchen before jumping onto a ladder in the alleyway outside, climbing up, and falling prone onto the ground as soon as you were there.

Looking up over the ledge, you could see now how there were so many.

Trucks were spread about the city, men exiting them and taking cover for a few seconds until they got to where they wanted to be, and started opening fire. They communicated through their radios, but why they would be here didn’t make sense.

Why try to raid a city when you couldn’t gain much, if anything from it?

Unless they weren’t trying to gain but to take someone out.

Someone who had always been against what you assumed was their little group. And that someone was none other than Farah, judging by how quickly she recognized them, and the gleam of hatred in her eyes when she looked at them. She’d been a bit too eager to slaughter them.

And with how quickly the men were flooding the roads and streets, and their communication, it wouldn’t be long until they found her.

Unless…

Glancing at the rooftop a few buildings over, you saw none other than a large tower. Not just any tower, but an antenna tower.

You observed the crowd for a moment, scanning, watching everyone, until you saw it. Heard it, rather, the loud boom it made, the man yelling “RPG!”. It was the second story of the building across the street. You couldn’t get there in time, even if you got over there without being killed or without too many civilians dying.

You needed to buy time.

Gathering the fractures courage left in your body, you got onto the balls of your feet, and against everything you’d been told, to stay quiet and unnoticeable, you began a mad dash across the building, jumping, and not stopping to marvel when your feet hit the solid ground of the other rooftop, only running further.

You still hadn’t gotten his attention.

You were almost to the antenna tower. Now or never.

Harassment.

Slipping the flash bang out of your belt-ish thing, you pulled the pin out, throwing it up in the air. You heard it when it went off, your vision blurring white as you dove and hit the floor. He must’ve heard it too, considering that when you glanced over, the large weapon was aimed at you, and when he fired, you saw it sail through the air not only at you but at the tower as well.

Diving over the edge of the building, you heard the blast, and chunks of debris and wire began raining from the sky in your area. Your ankles burned when you stood, legs screaming against any movement. Ash floated into your nose and throat, as well as the smell of fire, and you took off into another run, diving into a building, only to run face-first into another man.

Ambush.

Your fist met his jaw before his bullet met your body, but barely. You both rolled to the floor, kicking and flailing around, landing hits on each other. He jabbed at you with his gun, his knife out of reach. You rolled him onto his back, your knife coming out, only to be knocked away by his calloused hands.

Your arm went around his neck, hand locking into place with your other elbow as your knee pressed on his neck. Your breathing was pants, more gasps than anything as he gave a final few kicks, before going limp.

You picked your knife back up, head jolting up when you heard a familiar female yell just a few streets down.

The members of the Al-Qatala seemed lost, some shouting to others in Arabic, others going on rampages against civilians just for the hell of it, seemingly. You didn’t doubt that Farah had a small army of her own, but they hadn’t been prepared.

Neither had you.

Sinking lower to not attract attention, you crept through the streets, watching carefully, or as carefully as you could through your blurry vision. Sand and dust blew into it, but you couldn’t find the strength to blink it away.

Your head was throbbing again.

You weren’t sure how you managed the journey there, brain taking a temporary lapse in recording memory maybe, but the next thing you knew, you were near an old warehouse.

Talking came from inside.

A raspy voice. Old, but not kind or warm, not like the voices of the old men you were used to. Harsh and sharp. Like a whip wailing as it flew through the air. Cut paths through it.

“Where is it?”

Silence. As you crept up to the entrance of the warehouse, where the door was just slightly ajar, you could see the outline of Farah tied into a chair. Multiple other men inside. Maybe three or four. Pulling your gun slowly out, you set the handle against your knee, putting your eye right on the scope.

“We know you have the gas, Farah, or should I call you Karim?”

Cruel.

Unnecessary.

But it gave you a kernel of information.

Information you would think about later if you had the time. If you didn’t die here.

A harsh hit to the face. Audible.

You could tell it stung, but she didn’t budge.

You lined the scope up with his head, finger closing in on the trigger, holding down, just not enough until.

Surprise.

The blast of the shot alone rang out through the warehouse. Except it wasn’t who you’d been expecting to fall to the ground who did.

It wasn’t who you’d thought it had been. Not Al-Qatala, not Cartel.

No, instead, Philip Graves, director of the Shadow Company, fell sideways in the dirt.

And the men surrounding Farah?

None other than your own team that had been handed off to Graves during your departure.

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@kazuyatokue

@kurokitty6

@popcornlauncher

@karleequinn

@sharkluver

@100percentlazybonez

@kiwibao

@juneonhoth

@theyoungeagle

@kee-0-kee

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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months ago

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𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓃 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℯℯ

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Part 1, part 2, part 4.. (to be released)

(For the dance, I used whatever moves I could remember from when I was young, but just look at svetlanas black swan performance to see what I meant)

Time skip

You won. Holy shit you won. You stood there, among all the snakes. Your once beautiful white dress was now torn and worn out.

You looked down on your arms, confused as to why the snakes weren’t attacking you like they did the others. Soon, you were escorted out by some peacekeepers.

And when you thought you were finally free, they had told you that Coriolanus had been caught cheating. And you as well, with the poison.

“Take her back to 12.”

And with those words, you were on the train back. Back to where it all started, back to where you would forever be.

"Send me to 12," Coriolanus said, if he were to serve his 20 years anywhere, he would want to serve it wherever you were.

He already missed you, your dress, your voice, your laugh and your smile.

When he saw you again, it was at a theater. The theater was older, nothing like the ones in the capitol. Hoff had given them another day off, the others had gone into the bar, but when he was walking he spotted your name on a sign.

"The victor, swan" it had said in bold letters, he stopped in his tracks, breath catching in his throat. Underneath was a small printing of your name, with a time and date.

He opened up the theater doors quietly, Sejanus followed behind him. He was just on time, because you came onto the stage and went over to the microphone.

“Uhm.. hello.” You said, your makeup and your dress looked perfect. The new black dress went perfectly with you. The people cheered, you smiled and laughed at them.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, although most of you already know me. I see some familiar and unfamiliar faces, so I’m glad you all are here. This dance… is probably the hardest I’ve done, I was working on it for a while before I got picked. I practiced it every chance I got when I did get picked.” You said, your eyes scanning the crowd.

“And I wanted to dedicate it to everyone who’s been following my stuff for a while, to everyone who’s been watching for a while, and to…” your eyes stopped on Coriolanus. He gave you a small smile and you smiled back, covering your mouth for a second.

“Sorry, and to a certain mentor, he knows who he is. This song is also one of my favorites, the snow is falling. Debussy. It’s a classic. Anyways, enough of me talking. Enjoy!” You said, they rushed to take the microphone off the stage and you took a deep breath as you got into place.

When the song started playing, it was silent and all eyes were on you.

You started off simple, going into the next move with an arabesque, then a saute de chat. It went on for long, an impressive fouetté to finish it off.

Coriolanus was smiling the whole way through it, he turned to look at sejanus for a moment but instead saw him slipping away. He was going into a room in the corner.

Once finished, people clapped and cheered. You smiled and thanked them, giving them a curtsy before you ran down the stairs. You looked through the crowd for Coriolanus but you couldn’t see him anymore. He had left the spot he was in before.

Then you spotted him moving through the crowd, into a room. So, you followed him into the room. You ran into the room, still in costume.

“Coryo-“ you began, coming up to him. He protectively put his arm over you, shielding you from the others.

You were confused, your face fell at it. What had he gotten himself into now?

#Spotify #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #president coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow #president snow x reader #snow x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x female!reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth

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collegeboysam · 6 months ago

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My main Devil's Minion theory for the finale, taking into account both the show so far and parts of the books, is this:

Armand has been giving Daniel his blood (in his drinks, in his food, in his IV drip) to cure his Parkinson's. But, without realizing, it caused secondary effect he didn't expect: the blood is what helped Daniel remember what happened in San Francisco. And will continue to help him remember more and more as time goes by. Perhaps do even more than that in season 3.

Leaving the long ass explanation as to why I think this could be it along with heavy book spoilers:

To me, one of the biggest clues for this is that Daniel does not remember anything about the first interview beyond the moment Louis invites him to his place (Daniel says he always wakes up at that moment anytime he thinks about it), which is the exact moment when Armand appears.

He does not remmeber him this until he goes to Dubai and is around Armand for the first time in decades.

Daniel's answer about him "waking up" at that point everytime indicates he has tried to remember that day all these years but he never could go beyond that point. And I don't think that talking about it with Louis is what made the memoris return.

The first time Daniel sees Armand in the dream after all these years, is the exact same day that he gets his levodopa transfusion. That night, after he falls asleep on the couch, he sees Armand arrive at the bar and from then on he continues remembering more and more details.

This ties back to the books, since in Queen of the Damned and more so in the Devil's Minion chapter we find out in the 70s-80s Armand used to feed Daniel his blood. Since the first time Armand feeds Daniel, he has visions. It creates a connection between him and Armand but later on also allows him to have very vivid dreams and have visions that only vampires should be seeing.

It's an established canon detail that consuming Armand's blood as a human makes Daniel have dreams/visions related to Armand and other vampires.

We still don't if DM's happened as it did in the books (at least the part about his 12 year relationship with Armand, since he ofc never got turned in his 30s), but there is a clear connection with the book.

In the show, he shouldn't be dreaming and remembering Armand in the first interview, since Armand erased his memory with his mind gift. Armand is a really old vampire, he has Marius' blood, his erasing of Daniel's memory should not have stopped working randomly.

And I don't think is random, I think it's happening because of the vampire blood is mixing with his medicine and food. It's making him remember and see things he once forgot since the mix is not only curing him, it's taking down the walls Armand himself put in his brain.

I don't think this is what Armand intended, it can be a secondary reaction he didn't anticipate.

Why the mix works on Daniel in particular? Could be any reason they want: Armand's blood is that powerful since he's ancient, it works because Daniel used to drink his blood in the 80s so his body is used to it and now mixing medicine with said blood has a reaction it never has with anyone else, it works because it's mixed with this particular medicine, etc. They can go with many options here and change it depending on what they decide for DM's in the 80s.

Now, another reason why I'm suspicious about the blood-in-medicine bit is another spoiler from the books: Doctor Fareed is actually a vampire. Not only that, he and his immortal companion and maker (Seth) develop medical science on vampires. Additionally, they run a clinic for the treatment of mortals, particullarly for incurable medical conditions. Parkinson's is incurable.

To me it's not too far fetched that Armand has asked Fareed this favor, of mixing the levodopa with his blood.

What vampire blood can do in the books isn't really a deus ex maquina, since it has it's limitations and it doesn't seem like it could be so potent it can cure every human condition ever and recover vampires from all injuries, but the show has not followed 1:1 all the rules from Vampire Chronicles either. Armand being immune to the sun being one of them, and it's a pretty important one, yet they added that right in.

This doesn't have to mean that vampires could now cure all incurable condutions with ancient vampire blood. It could be only Daniel: because he had it before in the 80s and formed a connection to Armand, or maybe because it's Armand's blood in particular (and he's not interested in helping anyone else lol.)

Transfusion aside, we now have the hint that Daniel likes his martinis better when Armand makes them. Because Armand puts more vermouth in them. Per Armand himself, Lestat tasted "like vermouth and annihilation". Could it be that vermouth is just generally what vampire blood tastes like?

Daniel could like the taste of Armand's drinks because they had traces of his blood in season 1. Armand could know how to make them perfectly because he remembers how Daniel likes them (maybe he used to add the blood as an ingredient just for the taste back in the day lol, since Daniel liked it so much.)

There are other scenes where we see Daniel asking "Rashid" personally for a refill of what looks like wine in one episode. And Armand does grab the cup to bring him more. We see him making Daniel a martini in another scene in particular, when Louis tells him "he's lingering."

Daniel having different drinks, courses of food, more drinks, dessert, it's shown many times in the first season and Armand is always around.

Perhaps Armand saw that only feeding Daniel his blood wasn't doing much and that's when he decides to go with the IV drip. More direct method, straight to Daniel's veins. As soon as he does, Daniel starts to remember.

Being "Rashid" is what gave Armand this advantage, since it would have been suspicious to have an ancient vampire who supposely "doesn't know Daniel", making him martinis and bringing him drinks, keeping tabs on his medical treatments and scheduling him a doctor.

But as a supposed member of the staff and pseudo asistent, Daniel thought it was kinda normal that Armand was doing these things for him.

And why would Armand want to help Daniel? There's a couple of options to choose from:

DM's did happen in the 80s and he still cares for Daniel, loves him even: It's important to note that one of Armand's big hopes when he's with Daniel is for Daniel to grow old. Armand wanted him to live his mortal life and mature, experience life as a human to its fullest. Daniel would argue and constantly try to push Armand to turn him when he was "still young". (Also motivated by Armand's own looks, he wanted to be with Armand as an immortal and also appear young next to Armand.) But for Armand, what was important was Daniel living his human life, as he would love him regardless of his physical age. Not to mention Armand is sure the maker-fledgling bond is destined to fail, and all fledglings will eventually resent their makers, he doens't want Daniel to hate him and end their relationship. Daniel argues that as a human he could die at any moment, as a vampire he can be strong like Armand, he doesn't have to worry about protecting him, and they can be together forever, young and now. This causes tons of fights between them. The show has actually given Armand what he wanted in the books, and it's Daniel growing old. In the show, he made Daniel forget their relationship when they reached the impass of Daniel wanting to let himself die on purpose so Armand would have no option but to turn him. Armand, not wanting to take Daniel's life away, erases his memory to protect Daniel and let him have a normal life. (There's also the theory that erasing so much, 12 years, out of Daniel's mind is what have him parkinson's eventually.) Additionally, per the books, Armand was correct and once he turns Daniel he starts to resent him as his maker and they break up for a while. Armand knows Daniel is strong and can take care of himself, so he doesn't force him to stay. But Daniel loses his mind while being away from Armand (Armand doesn't know this), ends in the care of Marius of all people, but eventually Armand goes looking for him and Daniel becomes his immortal companion once more, choosing him over Marius. Daniel and Armand end up together as endgame. I think the show has changed the time Daniel spends with Marius, and has instead made the breakup happen between them from the 80s to the current timeline, by the means of Armand never turning him and erasing his memory instead.

DM didn't happen: Let's say DM has not been a thing so far (but with all the looks between Armandaniel and all the devil minion's easter eggs they have put in these 2 seasons, I doubt it. But hey let's consider!) Louis said Daniel was a testament of their relationship enduring. Armand is currently desperate to save it, so he's saving Daniel to somehow show and hint to Louis their relationship should too. Daniel can't die when Armand knows his relationship with Louis is deteriorating, it could be taken almost as a sign that is time to end their relationship as well. In this scenario, I imagine DM's happens after Dubai. Louis and Armand break up, Armand follows Daniel because he blames him for he breakup (since he opened cracks in their relationship) and is when he tells Daniel to keep him entertained or he will kill him, starts stalking him, etc. This also makes sense because originally, Armand starts stalking Daniel in a time period he and Louis have broken up.

Extra: Does Louis know of Armand's plans? Unclear to me. I think it could go either way. Armand is so good at making plans and knitting webs to get wat he hopes/wishes for, he could be doing the entire thing without letting Louis know, going along with the interview because he has other interests for having Daniel close. At the same time, I think Louis wouldn't mind helping Daniel stay alive so he can live longer, publish the book, and I think he considers Daniel a friend. He even offers him the dark gift at one point in the 1st season. But does Louis know of the time Armand spend with Daniel if DM's happened? We'll see.

Finally, I believe this leaves them with many options for season 2:

Does Daniel start to get addicted to the blood? Does he need to keep consuming it to continue to get better? Will consuming it more and more cause for more memories of Armand to return?

Not only that, he can start having visions that directly connect "The Vampire Lestat" with the main plot of "Queen of the Damned". He can be the one to start seeing what Akasha is planning.

The actor for doctor Fareed is going to appear again in season 3. I think that's particular. Even if he's a vampire, he doesn't appear until way later in the books and so far he has only appeared for Daniel's sake. He could be continuing his treatment, giving him more of Armand's blood, and in season 3 Daniel could keep on remembering more and more about Armand or start to form a connection with him because now he needs his blood to stay/get better, but that connection could lead to many other feelings and situations.

That's what I think so far.

I'm more inclined to believe DM's did happen in the 80s, since there have been many clues scattered around these two seasons, but even if they decide to make DM's happen in the current timeline, the blood-feeding could still make sense to me.

But hey, there's also the option that DM did happen, but something health related affects Daniel and Armand sees himself forced to turn Daniel into a vampire in the season finale, since he cannot live with the idea of Daniel dying. Which is why he was maybe giving him his blood in the first place. Having fed him his blood before (and now) could affect how Daniel behaves as a vampire.

And hey, if all this is for nothing and Armand never gave him his blood and I'm fully delusional 🤡, then I guess I'll use it for a fic or something hahaha since I think it makes sense to me anyway lmao.

One way or another tho, there are enough hints for Armandaniel to come to usssss in season 3 FOR SURE.

#if people already theorized this exact same thing and i havent seen the posts ignore me lmao i need to exorcise my demons #aka write armandaniel related shit or i will explode #just fun little ideas of where they could be going before the final episode drops #devil's minion #iwtv #interview with the vampire #long ass post

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crushedsweets · 1 year ago

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Do you have any headcanons of Lyra and Toby’s relationship?

this has been in my inbox for like over a week by now because this is a big task in my head. i will focus more on the family itself, but obviously the siblings r there.

ROGERS FAMILY HCS UNDER THE CUT... tw for abuse and addiction, of course

ok. WE'RE GETTING PERSONAL HERE. im the eldest daughter of 3 so the way in which i project into older siblings is insane. ive also had an addict father(no where near like frank though let me clarify) so in general . . the story.. makes me feel very...... basically their relationship is very personal to me.

lyra is about 2-3 years older than toby.

frank's dad was in the vietnam war, his grandparents were in wwii, his grandparents in wwi, etc. so he went into military service right after marrying connie. for a long while, he was SUPER military strict. those kids were up, made their bed, and down for chores by 6am everyday. he made them do military time rather than civilian time. he was incredibly traditional, expected a perfectly clean household, a polite soft daughter, a strong bold son, perfect wife. he wanted the 1950s nuclear family model. so toby and lyra grew up in a very clean, strict, traditional household.

in my au, frank wasnt outright abusive until the kids were around 8-11. it was after he developed his addictions and lost his job. the kids really didnt understand what was changing at first, and legitimately were like 'omg dad isnt making us wake up at 5am everyday..... this is so cool'.

theyd start having sleepovers in eachothers room, slacking a bit on chores, going to sleep late, sleeping in. toby didnt develop his tourettes until he was around 7, so lyra and toby would walk home from their elementary school together. sometimes, theyd walk another friend home first, stop at convenience stores to get candy, pet a cat, etc. frank didnt say a thing for the first few months, just drunken grumbles along connies worried 'WHERE HAVE U BEEN'. if they weren't walking around the area, they were in the backyard playing soccer.

eventually the abuse began, and all of those little freedoms were quickly stripped from the kids.

toby developing tourrettes around this time was a painful coincidence, because not only did he experience abuse at home, but awful bullying at school. he was promptly pulled out after completing 3rd grade. he was only 8.

lyra would practically run home from school everyday, as fast as a 12 year old girl with a backpack could manage, just because she spent all 7 hours in school worrying about toby at home. connie had to start working to pay bills, so..

when toby was around 11 and lyra was around 13, toby started kinda just. being more distant. he was kind of a dick to lyra for a period of time, half because of everything he was going through, half because puberty is rough. his room started getting messy, lyra had to start picking up chores he was slacking on , etc. lyra isnt perfect and began to resent toby for this, and eventually, the two were kinda at eachothers throats for like 6 months. which isnt a lot, but for kids, its an eternity.

when franks abuse evolved from ''just'' verbal abuse, to shoves, to slaps, to full on beatings, toby started egging frank on. just to get him off of lyra and connie. obviously he couldnt feel it, and while it sure took a fucking mental toll, it was so much easier to just wait it out rather than listen to the girls cry.

lyra didnt even realize toby was doing this for a while, she just thought it was all part of him going through his little hormonal asshole phase, until one day frank made a fucked up comment about 'youre lucky that boy is always causing trouble. was supposed to be you'. then it kinda clicked and she very quickly tried to fix their relationship back to what it was.

frank eventually scared connie so badly that there'd be periods of time where she'd take the kids in the middle of the night, and run off to either her parents place, or even a random hotel in another city. she'd use cash, force the kids to keep their phones at home, leave literally everything behind and often make the kids pick out new toothbrushes at a random walmart. etc. it would only last a few days each time, and lyra fought so hard to stay strong while her mom cried and toby closed himself off.

she'd try to get toby to come to the hotel pools with her, try to get him to watch tv with her, try to get him to just fucking talk to her. he was often catatonic during these little runaways, once the confusion adrenaline and fear wore off

it wasnt until they went around a month without seeing their father, and frank had some weird fucking. 'those are MY kids too' thing and went to connie's parents house while all the adults were out, and forced the kids back home. this was the first time lyra was full on sobbing and begging and pleading in years. that was what shifted something in toby, too.

now tobys 13, lyras 15, and theyre on better footing. theyre starting to understand eachother. tobys back on keeping up with chores, knowing that either him lyra or connie was going to get beat if they were missed. sometimes he'd just silently come into lyras room and lay down and watch tv with her. they'd talk about books, about school, their trust was built right back up and toby ended up being the first to know about lyras school drama, gossip, boys, etc.

toby wasn't really socialized properly, since he's been homeschooled for 6 years by now. all the time, he'd hear lyras stories, and wish he could go to school. his mom would be horrified anytime toby asked, because all she could remember was her sweet boy coming home and crying into her arms after a day of being mocked and pushed around by peers.

so he began to live through lyra, in a sense ? he almost became a diary for lyra, and he kinda loved it. she was like a sitcom to him.

frank wasnt a good father by any means during this period, he was still awful, but he wasn't constantly looking for trouble. the kids kept to themselves, connie did everything she was expected to, he didnt give a shit about their grades or social lives. he couldn't even recgonize when lyra was coming home late.

lyra got her license the second she turned 16. the house had two cars, and its not like frank was ever going anywhere, so she was always going everywhere. she adored the freedom, and took toby wherever he'd let her. he only really left the house if he was going grocery shopping with his mom or something, so it was kinda weird now that he was just. going to malls. going to restaurants. going to parks. just Hanging Out. every now and again he'd stick around when Lyra was with her friends, but he didn't like them so it was rare.

sometimes theyd just drive together for a long time. at night, she was the one to take him to every hospital visit, she even got him to volunteer at a pet shelter she worked at for a bit. 3 years and they become so close again, and lyra is tobys best friend. she's his entire world because who else does he have ? he loves his mom, but she's married to the man he hates more than anything

toby was 16 and lyra was 18 when frank strangled toby till he passed out. thats finally when connie kicked frank out, forcing frank to go live on his moms couch. lyra was mortified and started spending an absurd amount of time with toby. she took online community college courses just so she could spend even more time with toby, and it didnt hurt to do so since frank wasnt there anymore. things were getting better for the family, frank was gone, lyra was in college, connie was working, toby was volunteering at shelters and even had a few acquaintances he'd talk to now and again.

lyra picked toby up from the shelter he volunteered at when the accident happened.

lyra and connie had matching silver necklaces with a circle pendant that had their initials. toby didnt cuz frank would get pissed if toby tried wearing jewelry, but when lyra died, toby immediately clung to it. he wears it religiously. the only time he takes it off is if he knows he's going to kill someone that day. otherwise, its always on him.

lyra died and was buried in colorado. toby lives in alabama now. so he really doesnt visit her grave often. only on her birthday, he'll scramble together some money and get brian, tim, and kate to agree to cover his uh. 'shifts' with slenderman, and take a few loooonnnggg train rides over to colorado.

he'll leave two bouquets of flowers. one for lyra, one for connie.

connie just feels in her heart that its toby. she has no reason to believe it, they've never bumped into eachother (toby's visiting at like 2am and falls asleep near the grave for a few hours), but she knows nobody else whos visiting lyras grave and leaving two sets of the same flowers.

toby and lyras childhood home was put on sale shortly after it was reconstructed from the fire, and connie moved in with her sister. lyras bedroom door was the only one that was shut and left unscathed after the fire (legitimately keep your doors shut if you ever have a housefire it can save entire bedrooms and even lives). the rest of the house was ruined, but not lyras room. connie kept every single one of her belongings, but she's put some photos out on the grave. tobys taken them, and connie believes it was him. again, she has no reason to believe it other than the flowers and 'why would someone take a photo of my dead daughter.'

anyway hi. in tears. i love them. sorry. i just retell their story over and over and get sad everytime

#asks #chatterbox #creeped #hcs #ticci toby #toby rogers #connie rogers #lyra rogers #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta art #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #tw abuse #tw addiction #ty if u read everything

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