#Madman Running Through The Fields

[rastronomicals]

8:45 PM EDT May 28, 2024:

Dantalian's Chariot -   "Madman Running Through The Fields" From the album Chariot Rising (1996)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Flower Power Central!, as Pete Frame observed. Featuring Zoot Money and Andy Summers, the band wore all white onstage, and painted their amps and instruments white as well, all the better to display their light show, which was reputedly the best in England. Recorded an album in 1968, but when it was rejected by their record company, the band broke up. The tapes were resucitated and finally released in 1996; you would have thought that would have been ten years earlier, given Summers' involvement, right?

[lilacgaby]

title: death is inevitable, but why you?

pairings: katsuki x reader, midoriya x reader, todoroki x reader

summary: each boy has to live through their horrors, the horror of losing you.

notes: tw: death! blood! violence! angst no comfort! i warned you!

katsuki bakugō❥

this mission had been the most horrific one for ages. left and right people were being lifted out in body bags, rubble covered the corpses of many scattered across the field, even heroes had lost limbs in the fight.

the stench of blood was everywhere. the shimmering of the sun unfit for the splatters all around.

he wasn't faring any better, his hands torn from quirk overexertion, his ears hurting from the loud explosions. no, that wasn't it.

the screams of the people he couldn't save rang through his head, the crushing of bones and flesh emgrained in his mind forever.

he was walking now. to say it was mindlessly would be a lie, no. he was looking for you.

he hadn't seen you since this all started. he'd texted and called you but you hadn't picked up. he felt guilty for walking past the sobbing civilians picking up their loved ones, or whatever remained of them at least.

he picked up his pace at the sight. where were you? why were you doing this now? now when his heart was straining with disgust, now when his mouth was holding back the bile that rised to the back of his throat, now when his mind was running with things he'd never want to consider happening to you.

he finally saw you, kirishima right next to you as you laid on a wall. he let out a sigh of relief, as he slowed down his pace.

as he got closer, kirishima covered your body from his sight, confusing him. "move."

"no. turn around."

"what's your deal? move!"

"i don't want you to see this, and she wouldn't have either, so please--"

"stop talking like she's dead!" he yelled, his heart in his throat as he pushed past kirishima. but he wished he listened at the sight before him.

you were slumped over, eyes wide open with fear, yet blank and unblinking. your mouth had strings of blood, some clotted up already showing how far gone you were.

your shirt was damp with not only blood but tears, the puffiness around your eyes signifying it. your hands were bruised badly and it looked like a part of your midsection was gouged out.

he fell onto his knees beside you, his hand shakily trying to close your eyes, to at least give you that final peace.

but he failed even at that. what kind of boyfriend was he? his hands shook with hopelessness and fear. he failed. he failed and you died a horrifying death alone.

what could he do without you? what was he supposed to do now?

he let out a guttural yell of pain, as he shook over your body. he didn't want to believe it. but as kirishima handed him a ring and your favorite hair pin that you, before you died, left for him,

he was left with the finality of your death.

and he was all alone once again.

izuku midoriya𑁍

it wasn't supposed to have ended like this.

he should've known that the fame from his hero antics would back fire one day, he should've been ready, he should've been there. he should've been prepared.

he should've been more cautious, taken more warnings from the stories he'd pay no mind to. he never thought this would happen to him.

he shouldn't be here, attempting to comfort you with shaky hands as you lay in his lap, bleeding out from where you were stabbed in the chest. he doesn't know of a place where you weren't stabbed though.

your dress now ruined and torn as the madman earlier had managed to get a hold of you, his promises of money meant nothing to him as he slit wound after wound into your skin.

he shouldn't have to hopelessly pray that the small ministrations he'd been doing to your face were helping relieve the pain, even though he knew it wasn't.

if he'd known the date he'd planned for you would end like this he would've never let you outside again, selfishly hiding you from the world. if he'd known he could've have taken the blow himself, if he'd have known-

his words were cut off by his very own gasp at the visual of you looking into his eyes. you reached your clean hand up to his face, running your unbloddied fingers over his freckles. wiping his tears.

you couldn't speak, though you were trying to. he was radio silent now, hoping to hear anything from you. you were still clutching the knife in your chest, your other hand right over the hilt.

he didn't feel right to ask you to stay awake, to stay in pain just for him. it was all his fault. always his fault, always something he didn't do right.

"i..izuku. 's not your fault, stop.. stop thinking that." your face was scrunched up in pain, it was obvious that it hurt you to speak. it hurt you to do anything, what was he kidding?

you always read him clear as day, or was he really that predictable? he put his hand on top of yours anyways, wanting to bask in this undeserved affection. he took your words to heart though, to say it was his fault was now an action of dissmissing your final thoughts, thoughts you'd dedicated just to him.

"i.. i love you. 'k?"

he nodded, he said it back to you. he'd say it a million times if it meant you'd stay for just a second longer. if it'd meant that you'd stay with him.

he bent down so you could kiss him one last time. it was the saddest kiss he'd ever have, he never thought he'd know when his last moment of affection was coming from you.

but he did, and as he came back up, your hand had dropped from his face, onto the blood stained ground.

he held you, he held you until your shallow breaths became no more, he held you until your body had gone cold,

he held you until his once white shirt had turned red from your blood.

he'd hold you until someone forced him to let you go.

it's what you deserved.

shoto todoroki✩

he always knew your presence in his life was too good for him.

fate had a funny way of messing with him. everything good in his life had a price, a price he'd pay willingly or not.

getting married to you must've been the best thing he'd ever done. but the price?

your left half being completely destroyed, just like his.

and the worst part? you were still awake, your breath heavy and pained as you collapsed onto the ground.

your flesh was mangled, the wounds reaching all the way up to your neck. you looked to be in so much pain, your tears only making it worse it seemed, as you let out a scream as you raised your hand, the only one you had left, to try and soothe yourself.

the destination of your honeymoon a haunting background to the death that was overtaking you.

shoto had never felt so useless. he'd never been the best at comforting you, only his presence serving to help. but now as you screamt in utter torment in front of him, he could do nothing but fall onto his knees infront of you.

the water from your tears burned your open wound, so he used his ice on your right to try and help you.

"is this helping?" he said, when you finally started to go silent. your eyes started to open and close, you were forcing yourself awake. why?

"mhm." he knew it was a white lie, to try and make him feel better about himself. but he decided to believe it, just this once.

you stared at his arm blankly. it took a lot of effort to word anything, to even stay up straight was a marvel in itself. you muttered, "is help coming?"

he wanted to be honest with you, he really did, but he didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if he told you nobody could make it in time. so, he told a partial lie. he hoped you could forgive him in another life. one where you'd get to live the life you always wanted.

"y-yes. someone's coming soon." he saw the way your eye lit up slightly with determination. why were you fighting so hard.

three minutes passed and nothing had happened. your eye was getting heavier, the blood was coming out in less and less spurts. your face became dejected.

he knew you caught him in a lie. they weren't coming to save you, only to pick up your corpse.

a bitter smile set over your lips, the throbbing of your skin under your tears a blur as you finally gave up. he had been holding your hand tightly this entire time, his hand over the pulse of your wrist as he refused to look you in the eye.

and now you knew why.

"i.. i love you shoto..

b-but don't lie to me next time, k?" you proclaimed, before falling over with a sickening thud as you hit the bloodied planks beneath you.

he stayed holding your hand for a while. the heroes hadn't made it for another hour. he was glad for the only reason of being able to scream and wail over you in peace. of being able to let all his built up emotions out,

of being able to mourn the loss of his one true love, who even in the end did her best to comfort him instead. who toughed it out for him.

"what a joke." he muttered as he stormed away from your body, leaving the heroes circled around your cold corpse.

plans to get back your honor brewing in his head.

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, kidnapping/abduction, obsessive behaviors, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: The echoes of the final struggle fade, leaving only the hollow stillness of the empty warehouse. Shadows cling to the corners, but amid the wreckage and rusted metal, a quiet relief settles over you and the team who fought through hell to bring you back. In this eerie calm, freedom feels fragile, like a fleeting breath. But the journey is far from over—every step forward holds the weight of unanswered questions and scars that run deeper than any mission.

Read Part 1 Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 7: Freedom

The warehouse was silent now, save for the soft rustling of boots on cracked concrete and the distant hum of the city far beyond its rusting walls. The fight, the terror, the suffocating weight of fear—all of it had passed like a storm, leaving behind a stillness that was almost too quiet, too fragile. But it was over. Devon lay unconscious on the cold ground, his twisted plans brought to a violent, unceremonious end. And you, at last, were free.

Your body, trembling from exhaustion and shock, barely registered the shift in the air as the team gathered around you. Soap was the first to reach you. His arms wrapped around you with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the night’s events. His hold was firm, grounding you in the present, while his voice—a low, steady whisper—was like a lifeline, pulling you back from the depths of fear that had gripped you not long ago. 

“You’re safe now,” he murmured, brushing some stray hair from your face. His fingers lingered just for a moment, their warmth a gentle reminder that you were no longer alone in the dark with that monster. The softness in his voice, the way he held you as if you were something precious, something irreplaceable, made your breath catch in your throat. He wasn’t just saying the words to reassure you—he meant them with every fiber of his being.

Behind Soap, Ghost stood, his dark, looming figure a stark contrast to the moment of calm. Yet something about his presence felt different now. He was still the same Ghost—silent, masked, unreadable—but there was a shift in the air around him. The weight of his watchful gaze was no longer cold or detached; it was protective, fierce, like a shield cast over you. His eyes, though hidden, seemed to burn with a quiet rage that had yet to fully fade. His anger was not at you but at the world for letting this happen—for letting you slip through their fingers and into the hands of a madman.

Price and Gaz stood a little farther back, exchanging glances that spoke volumes. There was relief in their eyes, a weight lifted from their shoulders now that you were safe, but also the residual tension of what could have been. They’d been in tight spots before—missions where things could’ve gone south—but this was different. This wasn’t just about a successful extraction or taking down a threat. It was about you. Someone they cared about, someone who had become part of their world. And for a moment, the unspoken fear of losing you lingered in the air between them, just beneath the surface.

Price was the first to break the silence, his voice steady but tinged with the weariness of a commander who had seen too many battles, both on the field and off. “We got ‘em,” he said simply, nodding toward Devon’s unconscious form on the ground. His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a deep sense of finality in it. It was over. The threat had been neutralized, and you were safe.

Gaz gave a small nod in agreement, his usual humor absent but replaced by something just as powerful—reassurance. “You’re alright now,” he added quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of lingering distress. He knew you’d been through hell, and though you were standing here, alive and breathing, he understood that the scars wouldn’t heal so easily. But for now, just knowing you were safe was enough.

As Soap pulled back slightly, giving you space but not letting go entirely, you could feel the weight of your captivity starting to lift from your shoulders. It was like emerging from a deep, suffocating fog, the air finally clear and breathable again. But with that clarity came the flood of emotions you’d kept buried—fear, exhaustion, relief, and something else, something raw and overwhelming.

Your eyes flickered from Soap to Ghost, to Price and Gaz, and back again. These men had risked everything to bring you home. The enormity of it hit you all at once, and for the first time since the nightmare had begun, the tears flowed freely. Not out of fear, but out of gratitude. Out of the sheer relief that you were here, alive, with them.

Ghost took a step closer, his gloved hand resting briefly on your shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort. He didn’t need to say anything—his presence, the unspoken bond between you, was enough. There was no judgment in his eyes, no expectation of strength. Only understanding. He knew the demons you’d be facing long after this night was over, and he’d stand with you through every battle, just as he had tonight.

Price gave a final glance around the warehouse, his instincts still sharp, even in moments of calm. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, his tone softening as he turned back to the group. “We’ll debrief later. Right now, we need to get them home.”

Home.

The word hung in the air, filling the empty warehouse with a sense of closure. It wasn’t just a place; it was a promise. A promise that no matter what had happened, no matter how close you had come to losing everything, there was still a place for you in their world. A place where you were safe, where you belonged.

As they guided you toward the exit of the warehouse, Soap’s arm was still protectively around your shoulders, you took one last glance at the warehouse. The shadows that had once seemed so overwhelming now felt distant, like echoes of a nightmare that had finally come to an end.

The night was still heavy with fog as you stepped outside, but the air was crisp, cool, refreshing against your skin. Each breath you took felt like a gift, a reminder that you had survived. And with each step you took, flanked by the people who had fought to bring you back, the weight of the past began to fade, replaced by something new. Something stronger.

Freedom.

Read Part 8

As you step out of the darkened warehouse and into the fog, each breath feels like a rebirth. The ghosts of the night cling to your skin, but the team's presence is a steady force at your side, anchoring you to the present. Freedom is yours, yet the haunting memories refuse to fade. And though tonight has ended, you know some battles remain unfinished.

Tag List:

@strawberryrnilk

@rafaelacallinybbay

Let me know if you would like to be added to the list lovely!

[nightingaellen]

King of my Heart | Vladimir Makarov x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Flashback of traumas, gunshots, blackmailing, kidnapping, swearing, military inaccuracies, medicine/doctors field inaccuracies and more that audiences may find uncomfortable (approach me if I missed something on warnings.)

NOTES: The plot of the game and mine are different, I chose to have a plot that Makarov is under the guidance of Imran Zakhaev since he was young. On the other hand, I still include some of the happenings of the game to this fiction.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Expect grammatical and typographical errors, english and russian isn't my first language. Bare with me.

Summary: Vladimir Makarov is known as being cold-hearted, madman, callous. But, what if one day he fell in love with a lass who captivated his heart badly, is he really a man that's a stone-hearted?

Chapter 1 | Next Chapter

You finished your medical mission in England and you've been assigned to do another in Russia. You dropped off in Zakhaev International Airport, your co-workers already dropped off because you're in another plane for some reason. You sat near the exit to fix your things and yourself, while doing it you suddenly heard a gunshots that you don't want to hear ever again for the rest of your life. Fears starts to hunt you, knees trembling, eyes shut. You've become anxious and that memory came into your mind, again.

"Honey, come on, let's eat. Your doll can wait. You might not want to miss this dish, don't make me wait." A lady said while preparing the utensils and plates.

"Okay, Mom! Just one sec, I'll fix this first." A little girl said, starts fixing her toys.

But all of the sudden, the little girl heard a gunshots. Her knees starts to tremble, overthinking of what have just she heard. She immediately lock the door and walked to the window. She was shocked and awe for what she have just seen, she saw her mother laying down. Her mother's face is covered with blood.

"M-mom... W-what..." She said, still watching through the window. All of the sudden, she met a boy who looks like having a same age with her. The boy look at her with his heterochromia eyes.

You quickly recovered from the sudden flashback of that memory. A hand hold your arm, you face the owner of that arm and you met that heterochromia eyes again but this time it's sinister and darker than before. His eyes are full of loathing, his eyes are fixated on you, looking deeply onto your soul. Fears are coming back to you again, he held your arm tightly enough to bruised it.

"W-wait.. stop.. i-it hurts.." You said quietly and with a gentle tone but you are screaming inside, you envisage to run and hoping not to get caught by him but you knew that you couldn't.

"Кирил, посади ее в эту машину. Сделай так, чтобы она не смогла сбежать, я кое-чего от тебя жду." He said to his comrade using a walkie-talkie, you can't understand what he just said. All you knew that he's speaking russian. ("Kiril, put her in that car. Make sure that she can't escape, I'm expecting something from you.")

Another man came to your gaze and motioned you to follow him, you followed him and looking back inside the airport you saw the heterochromia eyes man and his comrades are firing to the civilians, police, or just say everyone.

"Hey, can you speak english?" You asked the man while you both walked to where the three van parked, he nods.

"Who are you and what's happening?" You said with one eyebrow raised.

He stopped his tracks and face you with arms crossed, "You know, lady, I'm not that very personal with some people. But I guess you can be trusted, Kiril's the name, and we have some things to take care of." You gave him a nod, you can't understand what he meant but you knew that you shouldn't ask anymore.

Kiril look at you and said, "I know you're confuse, I am too. Just obey boss' orders and be careful of your actions and words, he'll not hurt you — and so I am, but we're good. We can be friends."

Something's really off, you know that there's a reason why they will keep you and you feel that there's something with that heterochromia eyes man.

– taglist: @usermncaellen, @livelyinborderland

– credits for the gifs that I used: @cssndra-cain, @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

2022 & 2023 © nightingaellen | Do not repost, copy, steal, translate.

[sapphire-writes]

picnic with aegon ii? 🥺

Omg my first little request, love this idea anon! Thank you so much for sending 🥺 Personally, my canon Aegon is how Tom Glynn-Carney describes him, just as a reference, he's a bit of a softie in this! Hope you enjoy💚

rating: none, this is just fluff

As Helaena’s lady’s maid, you were often in Aegon’s company. He had noticed you when you had first started attending to the princess and had taken a liking to you right away.

So it began. You would be walking through the halls of the Red Keep only to have slender fingers entangle themselves in yours, pulling you into closets, into abandoned corridors.

Aegon was always eager, his mouth warm and soft against yours. Hands bunched in your skirts, desperate for the feel of you. You soon grew addicted to the sound of his whines, the feeling of his hands entangled in your hair.

But it seemed to be your banter Aegon craved the most, once the lust no longer clouded his vision. Aegon quite enjoyed mysteriously disappearing from the Keep to the astonishment of his mother and siblings. 

“You’re a madman,” you tell Aegon, and he grins wickedly, agreeing with you. 

Several miles from the Red Keep you and Aegon have found your spot to picnic. As you had departed the Keep to run an errand for the princess, you had found yourself entangled with the young prince once again.

“They shall be looking for you,” you tell the dragon prince who groans in response. 

“Let them look, I’d rather stay here, with you,” he murmurs, eyes closed facing the sunlight. 

You lived for days like these when Aegon took you from the castle. 

You reached into the basket he had prepared for the both of you, searching for your favorite treat. Placing a lemon cake in your fingers, you took a bite. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you, still not used to the delicacies enjoyed by the royal family. 

Aegon’s mouth twitched, a smirk beginning to form on his handsome face. Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Don’t,” you warned and his eyes opened. The warm summer breeze blew his silver hair from his face as he rose to a seated position. 

“What?” he breathed, watching you chew. 

“You’ll spoil it,” you teased, as Aegon turned himself, laying his head within your lap atop your skirts. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” he assured, “I wish to see what brings you such pleasure, as that is my utmost concern in this life.”

You purse your lips looking down at him, before waving the remnants of the lemon cake that resided in your hand. 

“My pleasure is your greatest concern?” you ask, raising a brow.

He jerks his head in a nod, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

“Then you must make sure we have more of these,” you tell him, placing the last of the lemon cake in your mouth. Aegon’s mouth drops open with surprise. 

“Selfish woman! No thoughts of sharing with your prince,” he whines, lower lip in a pout. You can’t help but laugh at him, the sound ringing in the open air. 

As you laugh, Aegon reaches behind your neck, pulling your lips towards his in a tart kiss. You can feel his moan vibrating against your lips. 

“See what you’ve done,” he groans, grabbing your hand. He suddenly sticks your fingers within his mouth, causing you to squeal pulling your hand away from him. 

“I now have a craving for lemon cakes,” he growls, pushing you onto the blanket. His lips are on yours again, swallowing the laughter that pours from your lungs. 

Here in this field, at least, you are both happy, you are both free. 

[phenixa]

machine heart (Ienzo & Even)

No, this wouldn't do.

Staring at the screen in front of him, Ienzo let another long sigh escape him. He had just spent the last day on this specific program, trying to run it smoothly, to no avail. It was as if the program was making fun of him.

And why wasn't he able to program something as simple as that ?

Human emotions were hard, sure, but some people were able to decipher them with one look at the other person's face, so why couldn't Ienzo be able to program something as simple as a program that would be able to decipher human emotions as easily as, say, Aeleus was able to decipher Ienzo's emotions ?

It wasn't fair, to be honest. Aeleus was able to discern every shift in Ienzo's look and understand what said shift was for. And on the other hand, Ienzo had been at a loss for words when Dilan told him that his words had been hurtful.

Emotions were hard. That was it.

Machines were easy to understand, at least. Their program was able to foresee every possibility available and predict a field of action. Sure, machines weren't able to understand what wasn't instilled into their program, but Ienzo was sure that if he was able to write a few more lines of code, his program could understand basic emotions.

And maybe love too.

This one would take more time to program, but the young man was certain that he would be able to code that. After all, his coding was what led Riku to Quadratum in the first place. And if he was able to send a teenager into a un-reality, he would be able to code something to decipher human emotions.

Right ?

Moving his hand to grip the coffee mug that Even had brought a bit earlier, Ienzo left his gaze wander from the screen in front of him. A five minute pause, that was all he'd allowed himself before diving back into this mess he lived through.

Emotions were hard. And maybe that has to do with the fact that he grew up as a Nobody. Maybe he truly was the master of the machines around him, the only one in this darned castle to really understand the beeping and the long lines of green on black.

Maybe he didn't need those emotions after all.

No. No, he couldn't think like that. Zexion died that day in Oblivion, he was what remained, or rather, what was recompleted after that faithful and horrible day.

"You're thinking too much," a voice rang, clear and composed. "I can hear you from the corridor." A cup of coffee was placed beside the one that Ienzo had been gripping like a madman. Great, now even Even was able to read him like a open book.

"What's on your mind, boy ? It's rare to see you struggle with lines of code." "It's just a small program of mine," Ienzo answered quickly, "something to pass time on when I'm not monitoring Riku." The lie sat heavy on his tongue, even if it was just a half-truth.

Even eyed him suspiciously, trying to read and understand the code in front of him, leaving Ienzo antsy. What would Even say if he suddenly understood what was the goal of that program ? Would the man make fun of him for how stupid the idea was ?

Because, let's be honest, the idea itself was pretty much stupid, even Ienzo knew that. A part of him knew that machines couldn't understand human emotions, but he still wanted to hope. Because asking for help would scream on top of the castle's roof that Ienzo was lost, so lost. It would be screaming that Ienzo had not evolved from childhood regarding emotions ; he was still a child on that subject. And Ienzo refused to acknowledge that. He was the child prodigy, the youngest apprentice of Ansem the Wise ! He couldn't show a sign of weakness in any department, that would be saying that he wasn't that child anymore, he wasn't that prodigy everyone admired back then anymore.

But he wasn't that child anymore, he had grew up.

"Stop dithering, boy." Even interjected, placing a cold hand on Ienzo's shoulder, bringing back the young man from his own mind. "If this program brings you to that state, stop working on it for some time. It won't fly away."

Emotions were hard to understand, that was a fact that Ienzo was painfully aware of. And this show of affection from Even, the young man had trouble understanding it. Even was as cold as the ice he controlled, so why was he acting that way ?

Why was it so hard to understand ?

That was the main reason why he chose to try running a program that could understand human emotions, because emotions were so hard to understand for him.

"Do you think I'm broken ?"

Even looked at him, puzzled. There it was, the feelings that were stuck in his throat all this time. Ienzo felt broken. Everyone around him seemed to understand emotions so easily, why wasn't he, the child prodigy, able to understand that as well ?

"You're not broken boy, far from it." Even moved from his side to behind him, placing both of his cool hands on his shoulders, relaxing Ienzo a little. "You're a great scientist, and we all have our speciality. If you struggle with something, just come to us, we can surely help you."

Ienzo smiled a little, his vision becoming blurry. Why was he crying now ? Was the small show of affection all he needed to become this crying mess of a person ?

"Why are emotions so hard to understand, then ?" He finally muttered, leaving a tear or two fall freely on his cheeks. The cold feeling on his shoulders was grounding, and he thanked Even for that in his head. "Why can't I understand them as easily as you all ?" "We don't really understand emotions. We live through them, but most of the time we don't understand them. Well, I don't." "What ?"

Even let a small laugh escape, applying more pressure on Ienzo's shoulders, calming the young man a bit more. Ienzo turned his head to face the blond, studying the ageing features of the man.

"No one really understand emotions, stop thinking about that." The blond started after a small while, "most of us just skim through life not understanding why we feel one way or another. We much less understand the emotions of others." The man marked a pause, turning his gaze back to the young man, "you're not broken for not understanding your emotions, Ienzo. You grew up as a Nobody, we instilled into you that you had no emotions, so living with them now can feel like a burden for you. And I'm sorry for that." "It's not your fault, you believed Xemnas' lies too. It's just, compared to Aeleus I feel like a child that hasn't grown up." "Aeleus is an empath, he struggle less than the common people on that subject. You're not under-evolved for not being at his level of understanding."

Ienzo nodded, understanding the older's words. The feeling didn't leave him in peace though, leaving the young man at a loss for words. Even just reassured him, why was the broken part inside of him not mended ?

"The more you will tergiversate on that matter, the more broken you will feel, take a breath and stop thinking about that. It'll do you more good than anything."

He nodded, standing up, and walked away from his computer, grabbing the cold coffee mug with one hand. He felt Even's eyes on him, following his every step. Once he was at the door, Ienzo turned his head towards where Even was still standing. The man was already looking at him, a small smile grazing his lips. Ienzo returned the smile, taking the doorknob in his free hand.

"I'm going to clean this mug. Do you want a cup of coffee ?" "I'm planning to work a bit, so I won't say no to a cup of coffee."

Ienzo smiled, before leaving the room, leaving Even alone in front of the open computer filled with lines of code. The man surveyed the lines in front of him, smiling at the future program without real reason. His eyes scanned over a specific line before they stopped on the next one. Grabbing a sticky note and a pen, Even scribbled something before placing the note on the screen, before he went to his side of the lab.

"There's an error on that line."

[emryses]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @mustlovesteve tysm!! i checked, and turns out i did this last november, too, so this will be a fun little comparison!

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 46!

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 512,645!!!!!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

main ones are dead boy detectives & stranger things (specifically steddie lbr) rn!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you looking at me, looking at you

run your fingers through my hair

you will never be unloved by me (you are too well tangled in my soul) -- i know this one is new!! dead boys ily.

eat me alive

when the party's over

5. Do you respond to comments?

yes! i try my very very best to respond to all of them, especially on newer fics. i usually fall behind on older fics/don't prioritize responding as much, but if there's one that is really kind/really touches me i always make a note to respond.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i've written a lot of depressing shit for the merlin fandom. i think winter always turns to spring might be one of the saddest all around, though.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

my hairdresser!steve fics are the happiest/fluffiest things i've ever written. but most of my fics have a happy ending! i think maybe memoria has one of the happiest tho?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really. i got One troll comment on a fic a few months ago that i just deleted and blocked lol.

9. Do you write smut?

every once in a while! i don't feel i'm very good at it, so it takes me a loooong time to write it when i do.

10. Do you write crossovers?

not in the traditional sense of combining fandoms, but if my btvs au counts as a crossover then yes?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! winter always turns to spring was translated into portuguese!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no but i've thrown around the idea with friends before (pax....mona....if u see this....hiiiiiii)

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

this is such a rude question tbqh !!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm going to default back and say merthur, because they were the one and only and a constant in my life for so long. (steddie and payneland make me so fucking crazy tho)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

there is a steddie wip called "tightly hidden fists" i started in LITERALLY july 2022. it's still sitting in my google docs at 20k+ and i'm starting to doubt if i'll ever finish it. i keep considering signing up for a round of a steddie bang or something but i'm scared to do that to myself again lmfao.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think i'm very good at dialogue, and getting The Voice of the character down. those things are usually what come to me first when i'm writing.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

for lack of a better word...filler? transitionary bits of fic. i overuse phrases/words like a madman, i also think i am a victim of trying to be too flowery when i can just, like, tone it the fuck down. are those weaknesses????

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

if it's easily translatable sentences (short and sweet, nothing too complicated) i put in the language in italics. (like, bonjour.) but frankly, i tend to avoid putting other languages in my fics. i don't often need to, and since i don't speak any language other than english i don't want to butcher anything if i can help it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

probably the peter pan self insert i wrote many times between the ages of like 8-12.

20. Favorite fics you've written?

fields of gold mention. my love letter to bbcm. i'm also very proud of memoria, my 2023 steddie bang.

low pressure tags for @queerofthedagger @insane-ohwhyfandoms @wolfiery @babyseraphim

[tainted-liquor]

'Carving Our Love˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Pavitr Prabhakar x BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles! TWs: None! W/C: 950 A/N: Listen idgaf. TODAY YOU GOT AN AFRO!!

"So how far is this place exactly?" You heard your boyfriend Pav ask through the quiet whistling of the winds and trees. Around 30 minutes earlier, the two of you decided to go walk to a 'nearby' field to carve your initials into a tree and hang around for a little while. "It's not too far, like another 5 minutes maybe." You shrugged while you spun your pretty pink butterfly knife between your fingers. You sighed in annoyance as you felt the silky white scarf you wore around your forehead to compliment your gorgeous afro shift and loosen slightly. Your absolute heaven-sent boyfriend noticed your shift in attitude, asking you a sweet and polite "What's wrong sweetie?"

"Oh it's nothing, love, my scarf just keeps loosening every time I move my damn brows" you huffed as you pushed your scarf back in place as gently as you could so you wouldn't ruin your edges. You slowly approached the summit of a grassy hill, decorated with 2 lone trees and a now run-down dirt pathway. "We're here!" you chirped as you did a small happy dance before sprinting up the hill. Pavitr giggled as he sprinted behind you, watching as you threw yourself up the grassy peak and gently leaned your shoulder against the tree farthest to the right. "We can either do this one or that one!" you instructed as you pointed the tip of your knife to both trees.

He looked between the seemingly two identical trees before pointing to the one you were leaning on with a bright smile. "Hmm…This one!" He cheered as he eagerly leaned against the opposite side of the tree, resting his palm on the rough bark and leaning over to make sure he was able to see you. "Ok, let's…ugh." You huff as your scarf slides smoothly off of your head, lying loosely around your neck. Pav immediately rushes over to you, gently tying the soft silk back around your head. You noticed how careful he was being, rather than the usual speedy two-second tie he had been doing since you'd met him.

Pavitr must've sensed your slight confusion, chuckling to himself and muttering a small "I don't know the word for these in English, but I know you're supposed to be careful to not mess them up!" he shrugged as he finalized the knot, carefully tugging to make sure that the scarf wasn't planning on falling again. It took you a couple of seconds to realize what he was referring to, but it smacked you like a truck when he realized that you were referring to your edges. You giggled as you gave Pavitr the pink butterfly knife, watching as he slowly etched out a wide heart in the center of the tree. "These are called edges, my love. Or baby hairs, but they're just the hair at the tip of my hairline styled! It helps add a lil bit of style to my hair," you explained with a small grin.

"Ohhh!" He silently gasped as the gears in his brain slowly began turning again, passing the small knife back to you so you could carve your first initial into the tree bark. "Can you do mine then!?" he asks eagerly as he puts a hand in his hair, jokingly ruffling it like a madman and posing like a vogue model. "I think they'd look great on me! Just like they do on you, Jaan!" he muttered out in between giggles. You rolled your eyes playfully, carving the last few lines in the tree as you finished carving a small letter into the bark. "You get on my nerves, you know that? Fine, I'll do them when we get back to my room." You chuckled as you sat on the grass, wrapping both arms around your legs and resting your chin on your knees.

He smiles warmly, humming to himself as he carves a very fancy 'P' into the deep oak. He then etched a small plus sign between the initials, drawing cute little hearts around the eternal signature you two had created in the 'sands' of time. He joined you as you sat on the grass, gently leaning his head on your shoulder as you mindlessly ran your fingers through the pointy blades of grass. You felt the gentle and crisp wind leave its version of small kisses against your bare arms, shuddering as they left goosebumps in their trail. While you were busy enjoying the comfortable silence and the orange hues of sunlight, your boyfriend analyzed and basked in your ambiance.

He watched through thick lashes as your earthy and gold jewelry glimmered against the warm rays of the sun, creating a beautiful disco-ball effect against your brown skin. Pav always loved spending time with you, escaping from the absolute chaos that was his universe and suffocating himself with your presence. But you didn't know that, you just thought he moved here from Mumbattan. So when the sun began to set over your family's cozy house, you two disappeared from the habitat of your room and went to find something to do together. You gently laid your head on top of Pavitr's, looking at the seemingly small city below you.

You spent the next few hours like that, watching the world move forward without the two of you as you froze yourselves in time. When the warm summer-colored sky turned dark and blue, you two raised yourselves from your spot and began your descent back down the hill. Stuffing the pink butterfly knife in your back pocket while Pavitr threw one arm around your shoulder, holding you as close as possible.

"I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too Pavi."

Taglist: @nagi3seastorm @soilmayo @bunnysblogs @chessbox @fbhxvnofcofc @leyras-heirr @xenasolos @janaeby @zoey5252 @thetoetickler @q2iepie @kazustqrzz

I gotta figure out how to tag some of you cuz its not letting me😭

[giggly-squiggily]

This is not my headcanon, I hope that's alright, I just found it and grew fond of it.

☆☆☆

Yuno legit loves Leo’s laugh. Like mans is down bad, he cannot get enough of it. Especially when his loud hearty laughter dies down to soft giggles, bro literally dies and ascends to heaven.

Intense sobbing and screaming* OH MY GOD YES Oh my God this is perfection- Yuno loving Leopold's laugh is perfect, precious, amazing stunning AHHH! I've gotcha covered!

“PFFT- GEHAHAHAHA!”

Yuno felt a shiver run up his spine, his cheeks flushing some and his heart racing at the wondrous sound. He turned to watch Leopold fall backwards, hands around his belly and smile big as he laughed and laughed.

“Ooohohoh- Oohoohoh my GAHAHWD! Look aahaht them gohooho!” He cried out, gesturing wildly to the open field before them.

Out there was…chaos. That’s the only way Yuno could describe what he was looking at. Luck was a madman, running for his life and laughing the entire time as Magna chased him down- his voice loud but groggy in the distance. Asta was chasing both of them- just as hyped.

In the center of the madness, Finral was sitting crossed leg, arms poised and portals all around. The trio had been going in and out of them for a while now- scrambling and jumping- yelping as they fell through another. The wind mage didn’t know if it was supposed to be training or just Finral’s way of avoiding casualty.

The sight was rather hilarious, but Yuno found himself more drawn to the redhead beside him, the sounds of his laughter sinking into him like hooks.

“Gehahahha! Ahehahahaha- Goohoo Asta! Gehehet them!” Leopold called out, practically sobbing with his mirth. His cheeks were rosy, and his emerald eyes were glistening. He let out a whooping wheeze when they collided- Magna somehow losing his pants on the way down from the portal. If Yuno listened closely, he could hear Asta howling himself, his laugh just as loud.

“Oh! Ohoohohoho..oh, man…” Wiping at his eyes, Leopold slowly sat up, gasping for air. His voluminous laughter softened to a string of breathy giggles, slow breaths between each bout. “Eheehe..ehehe..whhahat?” He found Yuno staring at him, wearing the softest of expressions. “Whahat, is soohomething on my faahace?”

Yuno didn’t respond- not with words anyway. He leaned in, gently pressing a kiss into his boyfriend’s lips. It wasn’t long before Leopold was kissing him back, a hand weaving into his dark hair as they fell back into the grass.

Send me a headcanon and I'll write a 300-500 word dabble for it!

[nerdalmighty]

WIP folder game

Thanks for the tag @khywren!! I'm excited to participate :)

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I only have a few wips, 4 in total right now, all for bg3, but one is a multi-chapter where each chapter is named after a different song from ANOTHER video game, Deltarune (because I'm the most creative woman in the world), and one is JUST a shitpost of a fic that I wrote to make myself laugh:

An Evening to Ourselves

Sewer Party

Don't Forget (Multi-chapter: Field of Hopes and Dreams, The Legend, Scarlet Forest)

Dont! Cross! This! Line! With your hand

Feel free to ask about any of them! I'm really enjoying posting snippets :)

Seeing as how I'm VERY new to the writing scene, I don't have a ton of mutuals who write, but I'll tag a few friends! @maladaptive-menace @ladyduellist - No pressure! And also if YOU (the person reading this) write and YOU want to share your wips, please do! And tag me in it!!

And for you, my dear @khywren, below the cut is another snippet of my long one shot (she's clocking in at 17.6k words! oops!):

“Listen to me,” you turned your head towards Astarion. “I need you to reach into my pack and get out a Scroll of Sleep.”

“You don’t just know that off-hand?”

“Astarion.” 

“Fine, fine.” The vampire drew out his daggers and slowly circled around the room, drawing the bugbear around so he wouldn’t be able to attack from behind. Astarion looked up at the rafters and saw a hay bale hanging precariously over the edge of a beam. If he angled his daggers just right…

He let the blades fly and when they connected with the hay bale, it fell from above, landing right on top of the bugbear. Astarion looked over at you with an excited grin to make sure you’d witnessed his victory.

“Yes, yes, you’re very good at knives,” you quipped. “Now get over here!”

“As you wish.” Astarion weaved his way across the barn and positioned himself behind you to look in your bag. You felt his cold breath on your ear. “Hello,” he purred.

Your fingers stumbled on a few notes and the ogress suddenly looked around, as if waking from a trance. 

“Wha-”

You scrunched your nose and kicked behind you at Astarion’s shin. 

He laughed out in pain, but you could feel him rummaging through your bag. The song you were playing resumed its hypnotic tones and the ogress seemed to calm down. 

“Remind me to never have you organize my wardrobe, darling. It is a mess in here.”

“I know where everything is!” You argued. “The scrolls are in alphabetical order.”

“My gods, you’re lame.” Astarion squinted into your bag, trying to read the titles of the spells in the dim light. 

“ASTARION!” You shouted and twisted as the bugbear suddenly reappeared, apparently having been able to push the hay bale off of himself. He was running like a madman around the right side of the barn, towards Astarion. 

Astarion reached for his daggers, only to come up empty. They were still in the hay bale on the other side of the barn. Swearing, he looked up just in time to see-

WHAM!

Your lute connected with the bugbear’s face with such force that he went down instantly. 

As a result, however, your lute was now shattered. Which meant there was about to be a very angry ogress on your hands.

Astarion quickly shuffled back to your bag and filed through your spells.

“Astarion…” You said hesitantly. Your body tensed as the ogress blinked a few times, growled, and began stomping her way towards you two.

“I’m going! I’m going! A HA!” Astarion pulled out the proper spell and leaned forward over your shoulder to shove it ungracefully into your hands. “Read it out read it out read it out!”

“Shut up shut up shut up!” You uncrumpled the spell and shouted “SOMNUM,” just as the ogress reared back to swing her club.

Instead, she went down heavily, instantly asleep.

You and Astarion stayed frozen in place. When it was clear the ogress was truly out cold, Astarion chuckled against your shoulder, still leaning into you from behind. 

You smiled. Then you joined in his slight chuckle, which turned into laughs, which turned into the both of you doubling over in weezing delight.

“Have you ever seen anything so ghastly?” Astarion looked between the two unconscious creatures.

“Love finds a way,” you continued laughing.

“My dear, love had nothing to do with that,” Astarion wiped a tear from his eye and went to retrieve his daggers from across the barn. “That was all lust. And probably a bit of morbid curiosity to see if it was even possible.”

“Clearly it is,” you said. “Shows what we know about interspecies relationships.”

Astarion sheathed his daggers and came back around to see you picking up the broken pieces of your lute. You sighed and took off your bag, carefully making the pieces fit inside. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thank you.”

You looked up at him.

“For knocking out that bugbear. And for sacrificing your lute in the process.” He bent to pick up a piece that had slid across the floor and brought it over to you.

“It’s just a thing,” you said. “I can replace it. But I’m glad you’re okay.”

[ophanstears]

hi hi! ive been working on my first chapter of my underfell au!

chapter 1 will briefly explore frisk's character and their environment before we throw them into the underground where they belong. >:) (this is important for ye good ol character building) i wanted to include a snippet of it so here you go! i'll probably delete this post when i eventually upload the first whole chapter..

Most days were of clear skies when the sun reached its highest point, bathing the ruthless tundra in a deceptively peaceful light. It was that same barrenness that kept the ever-expanding cities of humanity from coming anywhere close to it. Even the locals of the tundra dared not to stride far into that lush landscape, warning that it was easy to get lost, and once lost, difficult to be found in time for a proper burial. But, despite its incredible hostility, the tundra's people had a hospitality that only few could rival. Through most of summer's days, experienced guides would lead groups of humans big and small through fields that clung close to their village. Through the strenuous marches up the hillsides, weapons and armors could be found strewn about the landscape, lying half-submerged in the earth. They had been exposed to the elements for what must have been a millennium, and yet, through the layers of rust and corroding metal, one could make out so many intricacies that it felt almost… inspiring. Nearly every piece was ornamented with frilly patterns of vines and leaves, which consistently curled around the centerpiece - a faded image of a gilded crest.

The history and culture of those fallen soldiers may have been lost to time, but there was respect to be had for its remnants to have persisted as long as they did.

-

With one erratic move of their hand, the blue ink of the young human's gel pen splurted as they continued to scribble in their notebook. It left an unsightly splotch sticking to its owner's hand, which was then quickly smeared all over the page as they carried on despite it. Their sketches were hurried and uneven, spread throughout the pages of their notebook like they were the obsession of a madman, showing nearly identical variations of the same fabled emblem. Frisk had been reminiscing about going back here for a while. It was tradition for their community to seek out the fields of this very tundra every few years. For one, it was a breathtaking, wondrous sight to behold. For the other, it was a perfect topic for teachers to hang over their student's heads. A frivolous time waster, as both fantasized about summer holidays lasting a few weeks longer. The students moved through the area in tightly-knit groups, led to the most notable curiosities while being watched by both the guides and teachers as if they were a hawk's prey. A needless safety precaution, as none of the children felt the need to run off and deeper into the tundra, anyhow. While there was some surface-level interest, there was only so much that a group of young teens could get out of what they saw as the same barren fields of dry grass and rusty pieces of scrap metal. Frisk's friends looked at their many notes and sketches in a similar vein. Every line they put on the paper was uneven and messy, scrambling any chances of deciphering them. Some minor appreciation was there, one simply couldn't squander the passion their teachers had expected of them. But there was a difference between passion and the obsession that Frisk had for this place and many other things like it. One of their friends stuck around for but a fleeting moment to peek over Frisk's shoulder. They knelt in front of a chest piece, sketching down the outlines of the coat of arms carved into its surface. Rust had eaten away at it, leaving more than half of the emblem obscured by a splotch of brown not too different from the inky ones that littered their page. Right next to their current sketch were many more, each one being another worn variant they had found along the trip. "… You know that you don't need to draw all of these, right? They already know what that symbol looks like." Their friend gave a cautious but scolding remark behind their back, eyebrow furrowed as they looked down at them and their ink-stained hands. Despite the audible annoyance in their friend's voice, Frisk turned around and looked up at them with a sheepish smile. Just as they were about to explain themselves, their friend picked up on pace again, leaving them in the dust with no more words to spare. They exhaled through gritted teeth as they looked on, their painted nails anxiously tapping against the rim of their notebook before forcing it closed. It had been a while since they had embarrassed their friend enough to force such an angry outburst, and they couldn't help but feel like a bad friend for it. It wasn't the first time they had done so, and they knew it was far from being the last.

[rastronomicals]

9:21 PM EDT June 27, 2024:

Dantalian's Chariot -   "Madman Running Through The Fields" From the album Chariot Rising (1996)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Flower Power Central!, as Pete Frame observed. Featuring Zoot Money and Andy Summers, the band wore all white onstage, and painted their amps and instruments white as well, all the better to display their light show, which was reputedly the best in England. Recorded an album in 1968, but when it was rejected by their record company, the band broke up. The tapes were resucitated and finally released in 1996; you would have thought that would have been ten years earlier, given Summers' involvement, right?

[julio-viernes]

El siguiente paso de Zoot Money (acompañado de Andy Summers y Collin Allen) fue crear los psicodélicos Dantalian´s Chariot a mediados de 1967. En bastantes casos los sesenta fueron años muy veletas. Mucha gente quería estar a la última, los grupos temían quedarse desfasados y se apuntaban a las nacientes modas. Muchos de esos grupos "mutantes" de extravagantes nombres tienen algún tema suelto muy bueno, pero ahí se quedaron; otros - Traffic (< SDG) y Procol Harum (< The Paramounts) son dos buenos ejemplos, Moody Blues también- supieron evolucionar con más clase y estilo, sin abandonar sus raíces R&B en el caso de los dos primeros (los Moodies no, porque su r+b había sido bastante mediocre). El abigarrado "carruaje" de Zoot pasó de EMI, sello en el que publicaron el single "The Madman Running Through the Fields", a Direction Records, que les tumbó el LP que estaban grabando y en su lugar sacó "Transition" con canciones previas, que salió a nombre de Zoot Money. Para abril de 1968, en un visto y no visto, Dantalion´s Chariot ya no existía, y Money y Summers ingresaban en los Animals de Eric Burdon a tiempo para grabar el álbum doble "Love Is" e incluir en él una nueva versión de "Madman (Running Through The Fields)".

[earlgreyinpajamas]

00q fic recs: bamf!q

1. put me to the test (honey, i'll blow you out the water) by thestalwartheart (@thestalwartheart)​

“You want me to what, Sir?”

As clearly as he’s heard the instructions, Q can’t be sure he isn’t dreaming this entire conversation. Between the agents creating more work for him out in the field and the engineers in his department demanding more of his time than usual, it’s already been a terribly long day, though it’s only noon.

And now, well. What Mallory is suggesting may well be a dream for all its absurdity.

“I’m scheduling you to take the field tests.”

-----

When Q is forced to prove he can survive in the field, James Bond plays the (concerned) menace.

~~~

ashfjj i love the “q can pass field tests and knocks bond’s socks off” trope

2. a funny worth by thestalwartheart (@thestalwartheart)​

 The pounding of his own heartbeat is the only thing Q can hear. It’s throbbing in his ears and throat. Even his eyeballs feel like they’re pulsing with it.

-----

In Austria, Q runs through a door to hide from two henchmen. It will become an inescapable memory.

~~~

it’s funny to realise that q genuinely had nerves of steel in austria, given that he narrowly avoided capture and still managed to do his job despite the overwhelming stress that probably would have caused him, because the movie (rightly or wrongly) kind of downplays the actions of everyone but bond, which fair enough, because it’s a bond movie, but also,, it would have been a nice thing to have a closer look at. but anyways, my point is that this fic does that scene so much justice, and it really filled out what was missing for me

3 I Won't Shiver, I Won't Shake by Only_1_Truth     

When Silva breaks loose in MI6, everything goes to shit.  Q is new and James is desperate - and with a madman after M, there aren't a lot of options but for James to trust the posh young Quartermaster that he barely knows anything about.  Likewise, Q finds himself being presented with a task that will ask him to stick his neck out for an agent that he doesn't really know yet... and which will also put him more in harm's way than he anticipated.  

Q might not be the battle-trained agent that 007 is, but one thing is for sure: now that he's promised to help the man, he might bruise, but he won't break.

~~~

you gotta love q staying strong in the face of a ton of violence being inflicted on him AND coming out tops because of his brains

[unknownbookworm]

ok now give me Dee lore

MORE LORE MORE LORE!!!! It's time for Dee lore y'all, and I'm just going to make a list of my favorite Dee lore bits so tw: parent being shitty

Dee doesn't speak to their parents anymore, and it's only sort of by choice. Growing up Dee was a very wild and rambunctious child, constantly climbing trees and exploring everywhere they went. Their parents hated this, so they decided to "reign them in" by putting them in multiple activities. This continued through high school, with the reason slowly turning too "to make you successful in the future". Some activities they were in include Gymnastics, Piano, Volunteer work, Bob's Martial Art's studio, tutoring, etc. So mostly they did what their parents wanted them to do, took the classes they wanted them to take, and everything. Even went to the University they wanted them to go to, and went into the job field like they wanted. After getting the farm their parents tried to get them to reconsider to no avail, and Dee made their first real big choice and stayed in Pelican town. Their parents don't even acknowledge them anymore

Dee didn't do well in school, uni, or at their Joja job. Their heart wasn't in it, and they never wanted to pursue it in the first place. After getting fired from Joja (seriously ten times in a week is a record for breaking printers) they were in a spiral and didn't know what to do, in fear of disappointing their parents. Their grandpa came in clutch and offered up the farm, so they decided hey why not? Farming can't be that hard right

They have only ever had one partner before pelican town. During uni they got with a person that they thought was everything, an escape from the pressure constantly put on them, literally heart in their eyes deep. At graduation he dumped Dee and stomped all over their heart, saying he was only really using them for during Uni. Left Dee devastated

Dee is surprisingly agile for someone constantly falling and bumbling around. Is it because of their gymnastics? Is it because their goofiness is a mask?? who knows

While on that Dee is terrible with any sort of romance, can't handle a compliment or declaration without turning red

Dee LOVES making people laugh and smile, it makes them feel happy that people appreciate them. Even if people are laughing at something they did, at least they are making someone's day better

A lot of Dee's antics are cartoony in nature, appearing out of nowhere, running around like a madman, falling in rivers, you would think it would annoy them, but they actually enjoy it. Their process is "it's healing to make mistakes and be okay with it!"

Dee is often times happy, upbeat, excited, or buzzing with energy. However when they are very VERY tired, cranky Dee comes out. That Dee hates when people talk too loudly, is very very grouchy, and extremely clumsy. These moments are rare, but also the only times you will hear Dee grumble and be genuinely pissed at falling in a river. Only a few people know how to handle Dee when they are like this, Vinh (duh), Abigail (letter from Vinh when Dee first moved there), and Leah (she gets pretty privilege)

All of Dee's knowledge of farming and the locals come from Vinh's past and current letters. This is why for the first like 1-2 months Dee exclusively know some of the locals by nicknames Vinh wrote them as.

Dee has beef with Pierre, more of a silly "how dare you" beef but beef. Mostly from them always coming in when Pierre is in the isles looking at something, walking away, or just not at the counter. Is some of that Dee's fault? yeah it is. Will Dee continue to blame Pierre and be mad at him? yeah they will. this became a bit more justified when they saw Pierre price hiking the jam they sold him, so they started just delivering jam to the townspeople themself

AND THATS ON DEE LORE, THANKS SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! I tried to get most of this to be stuff I haven't mentioned or only mentioned in passing before, but its all here! It is long but what can I do, I love my OCs

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Part 1

Pairing: Soap x Ghost  

WC: 2k 

Synopsis: 141 has a new target for now. Soap is throwing out Gaelic and it isn’t his fault the dog barked, what is he supposed to do

Warnings: None that I can think of, this a slow burn so get ready to dig in for a bit

Things were different now, the team was back together. No longer were they split and sent to opposite sides of the globe. General Shepherd was in the wind and they had to be ready to go at a moment's notice the second he was found. There would be no time to meld together, to run practice sweeps through some training course. They needed to be out in the field together, getting used to one another again before they were expected to go after the man who had thrown them into the hands of a terrorist and set a madman loose. Until then though they were being deployed together, all over the world to countries whose very name was classified. Captain John Price, Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, Sergeant Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, and Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, the team was officially back together. Price was sat in a chair facing the wall where Laswell was currently projecting the image of a man. She had just finished explaining who exactly he was, apparently the leader of a terrorist cell who was currently in control of a heavily populated city. He had taken control of a twenty story building at the center of the city and the streets were now crawling with his men, young recruits joining up by the day only solidifying his power. He had become the de facto ruler of the city in the span of three days and not a soul around was willing to stop him, well except for 141.

Soap was near the back of the room where he always sat, pen in hand as it tapped quietly against his cheek. The dark haired Scotsman was watching everyone, well everyone except for Ghost who was standing in the corner just behind him. Soap's eyes found Price as the Captain turned his attention to the three men he was commanding, looking to each of them in turn. The pen stopped tapping as soon as the eyes landed on him and Price spoke, "Seems simple enough to me Laswell. You drop us outside the city, we get in quietly, take Suheil for interrogation, and extract," he glanced at Soap then who was looking anywhere but at the Captain, "quietly."

The room was awkwardly quiet until Soap finally broke and looked at the Captain who was still pointedly staring. The Scotsman’s eyes widened with pure innocence before looking between everyone else who had also shifted their gaze to him. His tone was full of confusion as he spoke, "What’re ye lookin at me for? I told ye all, that dog came out of nowhere! It isn't my fault he smelt one of your pungent asses and decided to investigate. What do ye want me to do about it?”

Gaz ducked his head looking down at his hands and holding in a laugh. The bloody brits were always teaming up on him, they always had something to say. Ghost was still leaning against the wall in the corner but he made no attempt to hide his snort before he said accusingly, "I told you back in Las Almas, Johnny. Kill the dog and repo, should've listened to me. What happened to you being better than me? Right shite in my opinion."

Soap looked back at the tall man with a narrowed gaze and what seemed to be steam coming off of his red face, "Oh give it a break will ye? We’ve all had our fuck ups and I’m not even the only one whose had theirs with a dog. I killed the big bastard, didn’t I? Maybe some of you should try washing between your ass cheeks next time and he won’t smell us."

Ghost let out a muffled laugh as he looked at the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. Price closed his eyes and then looked to Laswell who was holding back her own laugh and suppressing a smile behind a smirk, not even she was immune to the dynamics between the squad members. Especially when that dog had nearly compromised the whole mission. The Captain then leaned forward onto the table, looking down at a map of the city and the land beyond it before pointing to the map. "We'll infill here with parachutes, and leg it to the city. The outer homes have been evacuated, right Laswell?" 

He glanced at her as she answered, “Yes, as far as we know all families in the outer cities were evacuated to a refugee camp ten miles south of the city.”

The Captain nodded his understanding, returning his gaze to the map with a light sniff as he thought for another moment and continued, "We'll stay through the afternoon in one of the outer homes, we are only out at night, understood?" 

He looked to the men in turn to see their nods, all teasing was over now, their plan was their survival. Not only for themselves but also for their team members. If they failed to know what was going on and the part they were to play then they were putting everyone at risk and that was not something anyone in this room was willing to do. Price began outlining the details of the assault finally, "When the sun goes down we'll head for the center of the city, two teams. Team one will be me and Gaz, we'll take some men with us and assault the building directly from the south entrance here. We’ll cut the power when we reach the second floor and use thermal sights. We hit hard and fast, get Suheil and then get to our extraction point. Team two will be Soap and Ghost, you two will provide overwatch from here." The Captain slid his finger across the map to a spot five blocks over, tapping on a building before glancing to Laswell. "Can you get us blueprints of this building as well?”

Kate looked closer to see where he was pointing before answering with uncertainty, "Give me a second." She turned from the group as she opened her laptop. Price waited for a moment before Laswell looked up, "You can keep going Captain, I can multitask."

Price didn't need any other invitation to continue as he began outlining his thoughts, "When we grab Suheil we'll need a quick getaway. Ghost and Soap this building should have watch points three hundred and sixty degrees, if there are none inside the building move to the roof. You will be covering our exfil until the target is outbound." He glanced at the Lieutenant gesturing for Ghost to join him at the table. "Suggestions for extraction points?"

The big man pushed up from his place on the wall, stepping into Soap's field of view to look down at the schematics of the city. It wasn’t often Ghost stepped into the middle of the room, and he never turned his back on people. But he momentarily forgot Soap was sitting at the end of the table, and as he passed the Scot couldn’t help but stare. It was eye level, and even though the jeans were bootcut he filled them out in all the right places. He was nearly caught staring but glanced back towards Price as Ghost looked back at him, eyeing him for a moment before Price tapped on the table and caught the Lieutenants attention before Soap gave himself away.

The big man stared for a second, eyes moving subtly across the map before he pointed to an open plaza two blocks from the building Price had designated for Team Two’s sniper position. "If we're using helos this is a good place. They can set down and Johnny and I can provide sniper support much easier. But, we don't have control of the city and our mission is a snatch and grab. I suggest trucks and a rendezvous here," His gloved finger pointed to some of the supposedly abandoned homes of the city. “Team two can provide sniper support as you get the target loaded and out of the city. Then when you've extracted the target Soap and I can get to a second extraction point here," his other hand pointed to a place well outside of the city in the open desert without a home in sight. "We'll move through the city, quietly," his eyes flicked momentarily to Soap meeting narrowed blue eyes and the Scot could swear he saw the lips under that mask turn up in a smirk. "They'll never even know there were snipers. Sure as shite won't know where we were."

The Captain was nodding slowly in his agreement with the suggestion. His eyes stared down at the map for a few seconds longer before he looked up at Ghost, "Agreed. We’ll take the trucks and rendezvous at the same place where we slept the previous day. You and Soap will extract on your own. How long will it take you to get there?"

Ghost studied it for a moment and Soap scooted his chair closer to look before the deep, raspy voice spoke again, "I say a maximum of a day and a half, two if we get held up. Once we're outside the city we won't have to wait for night. We can cover that ground easily."

Soap looked at the distance and gave a nod of agreement, "Aye two days max. I'm always up for a race, Lt. I doubt you could keep up with me, I won’t be sporting a bullet hole this time Ghost.”

Again Soap swore he could see the smile under that mask before Price stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, "Ok then that’s how we’ll do it, don't be late Ghost. Leave Soap if you have to, especially if he hasn't learned his lesson yet. Quietly Sergeant, quietly."

The Scotsman held out his hands in front of him, palms in the air as he glanced at all of the people in the room with a look of incredulity, "One bloody time. I set a dog off one feckin time and you lot are gonna carve it into my bloody tombstone. Every one of you have fucked up before, why is it the bloody Brits only ever bring up my shite?”

Ghost watched him with crossed arms and before answering, “Because it’s fun. I’m surprised you’re still speaking English, Johnny.”

Soap bit his tongue and looked at the table, but he didn’t last three seconds before he shot back, “Shut yer pus, numpty.”

Now the smile was obvious in the big man’s eyes as he gave one of those quiet evil laughs you hear in a cartoon as it’s fading to black. “Careful Johnny, they’ll slap you with another insubordination reprimanding.”

Soap rolled his eyes so hard he swore he could see his brain back there somewhere. “Mhac na galla.” Another snort from Ghost but this time he held his tongue and looked at Price, “We'll be there Captain I can promise you that. I may not be quiet but we’ll make it that’s for sure. If there's one thing I've got, it's timing, and better knees than this big blaigeard."

Price was suppressing his own smile now as he looked at Soap. Trying not to laugh at his obvious cursing and disrespect, "Good, we leave tomorrow morning 0600, don't be late to that either Soap. We don't rebook flights here."

The dark haired Scot smiled then and nodded before he stood up, filing out of the room with everyone else to pack his gear and get ready to leave tomorrow. He may have been feigning a bad mood and anger in there but it was always for the benefit of the team. Sometimes everyone needs a laugh; he just happened to be the best at drawing them out. He knew that, it was a fact, yet something in the back of his mind still wondered if they really meant it rather than just giving him a hard time for a good time. It was always something that sat at the back of his mind, but those insecurities were written deep inside him and that’s where he kept them, no one needed to see that. He would be useless if they ever did.