#So did the holster represent something?

[yawnderu]

We need more details of könig from the game!!

Like why did he use a t-shirt for covering? Was that t-shirt special or a thing he randomly chose?

The sniper hat was something that he personally bought or maybe someone gifted it to him? And who knows maybe he stole it?

Does he miss the right place of his belt purposely for aesthetics or does he do it unconsciously? Maybe he is a lazy man who can risk being late, so fuck off the belt! the kortac should thank him that he doesn't go there with his pajamas...

There's too much to know about him!! I need to know 🥺

Sadly he's basically just a skin so we don't have ANY information on him besides what we hear in voice lines and his in-game bio, BUT!! I do have an answer for the missing belt loop<3

Since that's where he has his pistol holster, it's something commonly done in the military and by gun carriers to balance their pistol better!

He actually wears a balaclava underneath his sniper hood, so the sniper hood is purely there for aesthetics fejkfbh and maybe to represent more about him as a person. A glitch revealed his face, so we at least know what's under the mask isn't scary hgjghvefvhgef

[hogans-heroes]

Branded

Crossposted on AO3

Brady POV. Inspired by discussion on this post about Gale's neck bruises.

_____________________________________________________________

There must have been something Brady could have done to stop it.

But there were some new guards now, ones that were harsher and fresher from training, who hadn’t been softened by familiarity with the prisoners, yet one was particularly brutal, with a temper quick with blows and other punishments. He had everyone on edge, and it was really only a matter of time, but why did it have to be Buck? Of course it was, though, he was always somehow in front of the other prisoners, the one to speak up or negotiate on their behalf, toeing that fragile line of mediation with his chin held high and starved-scrawny fists clenched behind his back.

They presented their requests weekly at the little deck at the entrance to the mess hall, clustering loosely as the prisoners and guard leaders talked out their needs and issues. Buck was commonly the representative speaker—certainly the most level headed choice—yet this time things had gone different. That new brutal guard towered over them, yelling and ranting and generally escalating the situation. Brady had been hanging back, eyeing the group fringes, when without warning the guard hauled off and struck Buck hard enough to make him stumble back. Before he could catch his footing, the guard seized his neck and bent him backward over the deck railing.

The small group of prisoners shouted in alarm, jostling forward on instinct, but Brady could only stand rooted to the ground, breath snatched right out of his lungs. Crank had lunged forward, nearly reaching Buck before the other guards leveled their rifles at all of them, screaming commands and forcing them to freeze in their steps, to stare in horror as the big guard growled, red in the face as he dug his fingers into Buck’s neck and pressed him farther down. Buck made a choked sound as the railing dug into his back, hands scrabbing on the man’s arm and feet slipping from under him. 

The guard shouted something else, then grabbed his pistol from its holster and jammed the barrel against the side of Gale’s head. A cold horror choked Brady and his vision tunneled, world narrowing to the hatred and rage on the man’s face as he forced his prey down and squeezed . Buck’s grip faltered. His body began to go slack, arms falling from his attacker's arm, and a scream lodged itself in Brady’s throat, limbs trembling with the need to run, to fight.

Suddenly the prisoners’s senior officer and the kommandant’s aide burst onto the scene, and rapid-fire arguing followed. One by one, the guards lowered their rifles, and after more arguing the big guard finally hauled Buck back up by the neck, and threw him off the deck. It wasn’t a big drop, only one step, but Buck still went down like a ton of bricks. His head hit the dirt and Brady flew the few yards over to him, knees skidding on the ground as he dropped beside him. Buck was coughing and wheezing—pale as a sheet—and Brady nearly vomited, but the adrenaline and newly-bubbling anger swamped all his senses as he and Crank hauled their leader to his feet.

“It’s alright,” Buck rasped, patting their frantically hovering arms even as he swayed a little. His voice was absolutely wrecked, and on either side of his neck were rapidly-darkening bruises in the shape of a thumb and fingers. 

“Fuck,” Crank hissed. “Bucky’s gonna lose his shit.”

.....

Bucky did, indeed, lose his shit.

When they entered the barracks it took barely a second for Bucky to spot them and take in the scene, eyes lasering on Gale’s bruises like a cat on the hunt. Sequences of shock, panic, then thunderous anger crossed his face and he lunged with his full height towards them, so much like an avenging angel Brady half-expected mighty, soot-covered wings to swoop out from his back. With fiery eyes he snatched Buck from them and sat him on the edge of the table.

“What happened?” he spat, the Major voice taking over. “Who did it?”

“Usual negotiations went bad,” said Crank. “New guard hit him and choked him.”

Bucky cursed viciously under his breath, which for some reason made the corner of Buck’s lips quirk into a grin. This seemed to make Bucky angrier. He could have levelled the room with it, and Brady resisted the urge to step back. 

“Was he unconscious at all?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t think fully, but he went limp for a bit.”

Brady could have sworn Bucky’s eyes went black, hands gripping the lapels of Buck’s coat. Buck swayed a little, lifting a hand to rub his neck, and Bucky’s gaze darted back to him. One side of Buck’s hair was messed up a little from where the gun had been shoved, and Brady had to lean on the nearest bunk to stop the room from spinning.

“He had him at gunpoint,” he said, voice dazed to his own ears.

“What do you mean he had him at gunpoint?” Bucky snapped.

“He had a pistol against his head alright?” Brady burst out, vision blurring. He vaguely heard Buck muttering it’s alright before DeMarco appeared from nowhere, grabbing Brady’s arm and pulling him out the door into the barrack hallway. He closed the door behind them and firmly but gently pushed Brady against the wall, stepping close with his hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Breathe, Johnny.”

Brady choked, then sucked in a breath, trying to keep the rolling panic at bay. He had seen other men shot in the camp, gunned down as an afterthought by guards who hardly needed a reason, but it could have been Buck, it could have been Buck , it very nearly was, and the image of his gentle friend going limp as the guard crushed his neck had seared painfully into his mind. 

“ Johnny ,” DeMarco begged, hands now gripping either side of Brady’s head. “It’s ok, just breathe.”

“Sorry,” Brady forced out, scrubbing his face roughly, but DeMarco shook his head.

“Don’t be. It was horrible, no one will get over it,” he said, and it made Brady pause.

They wouldn’t, would they? Of course Bucky wouldn’t—if he wasn’t unhinged before he certainly would be now, and Brady felt a spike of sick terror at the thought—and Buck would act like he was alright, but the glassy sheen on his eyes would get thicker and he would become even quieter, walking like his own body was too heavy to bear. 

DeMarco swallowed, eyes understanding, but before he could say anything a panicked shout came from the other room. They bolted back in to find Bucky’s face painted with raw fear and Buck draped limp against him.

“He’s…he’s not…” Bucky panted. “Get the doc!”

DeMarco ran out, and without being conscious of moving Brady found himself at Bucky’s side, helping him lift Buck into the nearest bunk. Buck was unresponsive, eyes half closed and head rolling a little as they laid him down, and Bucky’s hands shook where they gripped his body. His expression shuttered, jaw clenched and lips pressed together as his chest heaved with breaths he struggled to control. 

With aching lungs Brady grasped him by the collar and gently pulled him down, tucking Bucky's head under his chin, and Bucky made a keening sound that stabbed Brady’s gut. He held him like that for a while—let him gasp brokenly into Brady’s chest with his hands still fisted in Buck’s coat—until Brady was more or less sure he wouldn’t shatter into irreparable pieces on the dirty floor.

When Bucky finally, hesitantly, pulled back, his eyes were wet and he released one hand from Buck to scrub at them, schooling his face back into composure with disarrayed curls falling over his forehead. He looked like such a lost little boy that Brady’s heart cracked again. 

“He’s gonna be alright,” Brady murmured. 

Bucky nodded, inhaling a deep breath and unable to meet Brady’s gaze.

......

The “doc” gave Gale more or less a clean bill of health. The bruising wasn’t too bad, probably no damage to the trachea, but in Buck’s weak state even a small time deprived of oxygen would take a toll. He just had to rest. He regained coherence fairly quickly and was fussed over by everyone in the barrack until nightfall. By lights out the tension and panic hadn’t quite faded, but eventually they all settled, dropping off to sleep one by one. 

All except the two majors, and Brady, who couldn’t quite tear his eyes from the bunk where their leaders lay intertwined, Bucky cradling Gale in his arms without a trace of shyness. Vaguely Brady found it strange he had been thinking of Buck as Gale now, but Bucky had said it softly so many times that day that it had begun to cement itself in Brady’s mind. It felt too intimate, somehow, and opened another small wound in Brady’s chest.

He pulled the blanket to his chin and curled up a little more, watching Bucky smooth Gale’s hair and push it back from his face, stroking Gale’s cheek with his thumb. After a moment he ran a hand down Gale’s arm and wrapped it around his back, leaning in to tuck his face under Gale’s jaw. Gale’s hand shifted a little against Bucky’s waist but he stayed otherwise still as Bucky pressed a lingering, open-mouthed kiss to the worst mark. He then moved his face under the other side of Gale’s head, nuzzling to lift Gale’s chin just enough to reach that side of his neck, and Brady realized he was kissing both bruises. The simple tenderness was so uncharacteristic of the brash major that it drowned Brady’s chest in a swell of affection and tightened his throat. Bucky’s hand flexed against Gale’s back. His jaw worked where it was hidden in the crook of Gale’s neck, drawing a soft inhale from him, and Brady quietly rolled over to face the wall. 

The next morning, the tense lines on Buck’s face had faded. And if the marks on his neck were slightly different shapes and a little deeper shade, Brady didn’t mention it.

[kiwisfics]

Summary: Reader might have forgotten who those colors could represent when she bought that outfit.

A/N - Just fluff. Gotta get better at writing kisses. I feel like my quality is slipping, but at the same time, I write these for me, so I still feel like they're better than my old fics.

-

“Well, don’t you look stunning, doll?” Jason circled her like a predator about to pounce, but in contrast, she simply beamed at him and did a spin.

“Isn’t it cool? I look all awesome and dangerous like you do now, right?”

The black leather jacket over her dark red tank top was hardly an intentional homage to him, but he couldn’t be blamed for the flare of possessiveness that ignited when she looked like that. Topped with the grin she flashed—confident and dangerous in nature—and a pair of tight black jeans, jeans with holsters on the sides, he really couldn’t be blamed.

“You look gorgeous in my colors, doll.”

Her grin instantly dropped in surprised realization.

Okay, maybe she’d subconsciously picked the red. She could admit that, considering she found him and the Red Hood get-up the peak of attractiveness, but how dare he call her out on it? She wasn’t that obvious, right?

“Red and black aren’t your copyright, Hoodie.”

“You are showing it off for me. Hard not to think that you’re making a point of admiring me.”

She scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

“You are showing off for me, though. Are you looking for a compliment?”

“You’re in my apartment. I might as well show you my new outfit.”

“Well, if you were looking for a compliment,” he took a step in her direction, briefly reminding her of how intimidating he could be, even in mundane movements, “I could give you one.”

She blinked, fully aware that there was an underlying meaning to that.

“I’m better with actions than words, though.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

The grin he flashed was something that might have annoyed her some weeks ago, but right now, she was too enthralled with the implications to care.

“So, were you looking for a compliment?” He leaned over enough to make his intentions clear.

“Uh,” she swallowed thickly, “maybe.”

She hadn’t realized how close the sofa was until he caged her against the back, his hands aside her hips and his face even with her own.

“Maybe?”

With the surprise waning, she regained her composure, “I don’t want a compliment,” she leaned in almost imperceptibly, “I want you to kiss me.”

“I guess that’s good enough.”

His lips met her own and she was almost positive this was a dream that she was going to wake from.

But she didn’t and it definitely wasn’t.

The aggression that he pressed into the kiss screamed of possession, but she couldn’t say that she didn’t like it. Her own aggressive response led to their teeth clacking together, to which Jason pulled back with a laugh.

“Easy, tiger.”

“You’re one to talk.”

He chuckled as he leaned back in, the aggression gone in favor of something far softer than she would have expected from him before now.

He earned a wistful sigh as he pulled back again, forehead bumping against her own.

“That’s some compliment.”

“Mhm.”

“I think I look a little better than that, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If you want to know exactly how good you look, you shouldn’t expect my lips to leave yours anytime soon.”

“Promise?” Her grin had returned, reflecting his own.

“Promise.”

[nanomooselet]

Episode One: No Man's Land

He's so fluffy. <3

Man, the fact that Vash ran out to greet all those people by name and he's not even a minute into it when the ships begin to explode is really everything about him you need to know. The first time we see his face and it's after he's been thrown off his feet as cascading destruction is unleashed around him. The face that crashed a thousand ships? Vash of Troy? My poor sweet boy.

Young children can sometimes have trouble with cause and effect, assuming events relate more to their own actions than they really do and blaming themselves. So Vash asking Rem if the sleepers will be okay... There's simply no time to explain he isn't responsible. All the dominos are being set up in Vash's little head. Nai is the one to knock them down.

And then Rem and Nai wearing identical expressions. It's not surprising that even after her death she's his most enduring ideological opponent. Every time I watch it's just more obvious how enormous the effect she had on Nai was, and how he hates it. (By the way, I keep hearing that Rem told Nai to protect Vash - but as far as I can tell that's a conclusion Nai came to on his own without Rem's intervention? Rem said she'd protect the twins herself and didn't anticipate the crash. Did I miss something?)

I've talked extensively about this part, but to recap: feelings. And look, Rem's got purple eyes! Apart from the colour motif (purple = red + blue, so it represents the unity of humanity and the Plants that was her dream) she would have had to get gene-modded for them, which is a fun detail. Rem, of all people, was a little bit vain. I dunno, I find that endearing.

"Real people don't look like that./Real people aren't such caricatures." More of Orange's composition choices making me foam at the mouth.

We don't know how long Vash has been dangling there, but I doubt it was less time than it would take for a human to die of deprivation or exposure. I really don't think Vash actually needs to eat or drink, nor does he hate being a Plant - it's himself that he hates, as a person. If anything Knives is the one in denial that he's just as human? I don't know.

Anyway personally I like to think that the reporters really are caught up in all this nonsense by sheer happenstance. No one's pulling their strings; they're out to write a meaningless gossip piece and Meryl is taking it too seriously. It's worth noting that focused pursuit of the "dangerous fugitive" (read: Vash) is apparently pretty recent, not to mention unusual.

...I'm guessing my girl doesn't play a lot of poker. Meryl's faces. <3

I've said it before, but the show doesn't cheat. Roberto doesn't pull his conclusions out of his ass; he tallies up incongruities and puts them together into insights. He's obviously experienced, but I think of Sam Vimes, a recovering alcoholic, complaining there aren't meetings you can attend for being a suspicious bastard. Roberto drinks because, too often, his suspicions have been proven right. (I suspect Roberto also suffers from a state of being naturally knurd i.e. he's short of sobriety in the opposite direction to being drunk, and has to down a few before he's on par with the rest of us. But I also think his tolerance is good and he plays up drunken mannerisms when it suits him.)

Huh, the man looks good in a tie. I wonder how recent that photo is.

Anyway, Roberto sees Vash's big honkin' gun, but Vash insists he's "not a fighter". He notes aloud that Vash doesn't look like a Plant engineer and Vash dodges explaining. Then he sees this face Vash is making, and it's scared. He's sweating. This is before the MPs barge in, so it's something about the Plant he's afraid of.

Right, thinks Roberto, we'll tuck that nugget of info away, along with how that piece in his holster sure ain't no damn novelty backscratcher. And when an opportunity arises to test the insight, Roberto takes it.

Uh, never mind what I said about cheating. (Although this is an animation cheat, not a narrative one.) I love that they didn't even pretend like he was maybe hiding it somewhere. Also hilarious, though more darkly so, is the complaint that this turn is "bad writing" because the captain was professional, as if he didn't beat the shit out of a suspect in the process of surrendering, stick his gun in random faces, and agree to a duel with deadly weapons against a bounty head he's meant to bring in alive because some random drunk asshole made slightly mean comments.

("Are you are a man, or a yellow-bellied baby who needs his mommy?" Background info implies the captain has reason to be sensitive about the accusation he's hiding behind his parents. I wonder if the dub writers knew?)

Meanwhile Vash is unwilling to fight until his opponent does something absolutely batshit that imperils everyone around him. He's also bizarrely calm about a cluster of missiles being launched and heading right for him. Roberto's right that he isn't afraid of the MPs.

"A fight should be a show!/We've got an audience, we might as well give them a show!" <- Orange says you're goddamn right about that, crazy captain dude. And it's exactly what they did.

Dweeb. <3 He probably left his ammo behind in his bag on purpose, but didn't expect the captain to do something so recklessly violent and suddenly realised he hasn't had time to restock any of his aces in the hole. Nevertheless, I suspect he's still playing up how hard he's freaking out here. The helpless and pathetic act is very much an act; it's only when he's faced with Knives that it isn't.

It's so sweet that Rosa knows him well enough to have faith he'd pull it off with a single bullet. She put a lot of trust in him. I like to think she kept a stock on hand. She also meant it when she said "a friend of Vash's is a friend of mine," so Meryl makes the throw. And she makes it good. Which all helps what's coming to be more devastating, naturally.

LOL at how clearly this is an animation/particle flex, but it's celebratory too, like fireworks on opening night. Over a decade since Vash did his thing on our screens. Here he is returning with a bang!

Wow, I somehow completely and utterly failed to realise Meryl and Roberto's conversation with Vash about Knives takes place the next day until this time around. Of course they would have had to wait until the captain was conscious enough to ride out of town. All the details I pick up and "the sun is setting" or maybe "unconscious people can't ride birds" missed me entirely. What I'm saying is that I'm very smart.

Hi Zazie!

I don't expect an answer to this question, but I have to wonder. Did Zazie wait to report to Knives until now to be absolutely certain it was Vash after seeing him draw that exact gun and do something impossible? Or does Zazie have some awareness of the fourth wall, knew when they'd cut away to show Knives, and acted so as to achieve a "speak of the devil" effect when Vash finally mentioned his full name?

Regardless, I really like the dub, but it's a shame they couldn't keep the ambiguity of whether Knives is talking about Vash or the red Plant when he says he'll rescue [someone] from the "parasites".

I do like the impression he's talking to the Plant husks (even if it's probably really Zazie he's talking to). My man's always open to constructive criticism when his interlocuter isn't capable of making any.

@tristampparty

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

New World (2)

Itachi Uchiha x Reader Fluff

Summary: The world War has met its end and Itachi has returned to his village. He questions whether he should set down his roots here when he meets a stranger. Or rather, a stranger is forced upon him by fate.

Warnings: none at the moment

Word Count: I am happily taking whatever comes out of me in the form of writing. Also Happy Diwali to anyone else celebrating!

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"If I had a ryo for every time you look at that house-" You slap Nami on the back lightly, a little taken aback by your action. "I'm not!" you whisper to her, pressing her to not be so loud. But she is not wrong.  It has been a week since you visited your fish friends and the little tadpoles for fear of trespassing on someone's property. Well, you were trespassing earlier but it did not feel wrong because the house has been vacant for as long as you could remember. Now, even if you are to go in there to feed the fish, your mind cannot seem to let go of the memory of those dark eyes looking at you with piercing curiosity.

Nami can see you squeeze the hem of your green dress which splits at the sides to reveal your thigh holster on the right. "When are we meeting Kakashi Senpai?" you try to divert your thoughts away from that beautiful stranger. "We are supposed to meet him in five minutes near the village gate," Nami replies, looking at her watch before climbing up the canal boundary to walk towards the village entrance. "But why did he ask for you?" You shrug your shoulders, tightening the fingerless gloves by the wrist. "He said he needed an empath on the team for something. He didn't tell me the details even though I'm sure there are a lot of trained Anbu empaths in the force. And I haven't been in the field for a long time." Nami nods, kicking the little pebbles coming her way on the raised platform. "Isn't it a C Rank mission? I'm pretty sure they could have asked Naruto's friends to accompany their sensei. All we have to do is accompany a village head of the Take no Mura back to his village." "Bamboo Village?!" Nami can see the excitement in your eyes. "I've heard they have the most healing hot water springs!" Nami chuckles. "I like where your head is going, Y/N, but you didn't ask Kakashi senpai why they needed an empath to accompany an old man back to his village?" Your friend almost feels bad for asking that question as she sees the excitement get diluted in the haze of confusion in your eyes. "Well," you sigh, getting up on the canal boundary ahead of Nami, "I'm sure Senpai has some reason behind bringing an empath to the mission. It's Kakashi Hatake, after all. Always thinking ten steps ahead."

.

"I thought you were always ten steps ahead, Kakashi." Tsunade sits in her seat, her arms crossed across her chest, looking at the white-haired ninja who leans against the window of the Hokage's office overlooking the village. "Then why am I hearing it on the day the village chief leaves that he is not telling us everything?" Kakashi scratches an itch on his neck. "I wanted to be sure I was not giving you the wrong intel, Hokage-sama. We cannot have our village head making decisions on my pure whims." Tsunade chuckles. "Oh, save it, Hatake. I know you have had your eyes on that old man even before he set foot inside the village. I could hear Shikamaru's will to not work from outside the village walls before the Bamboo village representatives arrived." Kakashi smiles under the mask. And that is the reason you are the Hokage, he thinks to himself. "I know it was a mere peace-treaty festivity here in Konoha but that Bamboo village ossan (old man) seems to have been running side missions through his caravan. We have already identified four of the cultural representatives as members of the special ops of the bamboo village military force." Tsunade plays with her pen in her hand. "And they were not here to just guard the ossan?" "No, ma'am. Yamato's team had followed the operatives during the festivities and found them scavenging the grave grounds of Konoha and the east borders where the remnants of the old Uchiha houses remain. Unless ossan has the tendency to pop up as a ghost in such places, my guess is they were not up to any good." Silence falls in the office for a brief moment as Tsunade comes to terms with having invited a potential enemy into her village. "I am taking a team with me under the guise of dropping them off to their village safely. Not giving protection to their caravan would seem suspicious," Kakashi admits, looking out the window. "But why take an inexperienced chunin with you?" "I don't think Naruto is inexperienced, ma'am-" "I'm talking about Y/N." "Ah," Kakashi exclaims quite casually, making Tsunade irk where she sits. "She...is not inexperienced. She is just...hidden. That's all." Tsunade inhales. "You know I hate riddles, Kakashi. You better have a good reason for taking the...hidden girl on a covert op. I will not be hearing any excuses if something were to happen to anyone on the team who does not qualify for the mission." Kakashi nods respectfully in the Hokage's direction. "And there better be someone beside you to take care of the kids." "Oh-" Kakashi blinks and simply opens the window he has been standing next to- "he has been here with us since the start." Tsunade furrows her brows before seeing the figure who leans from the side of the window to give her a respectful bow. The wrinkled brows suddenly release any tension they were holding. "Oh! I should have known." There is a smile growing at the edges of Tsunade's lips. She suddenly seems to relax a bit more than usual. "You two better hurry then. That ossan better not be a threat to my village or I will make sure to gouge his guts out with my own hands." Kakashi bows and jumps out the window, knowing full well his Hokage is not making an empty threat.

.

"He's late." you throw a pebble into a canal. Naruto groans as he squats by the edge of the platform, looking into the crystal clear water. "I know I should've just arrived ten minutes later. I could have had four more bowls of Ichiraku's ramen." You turn to look at Iruka making a conversation with the Bamboo villagers waiting to make their return journey. There is the Chief, two middle-aged men, one young woman of your age and another young man, standing together by the gate. The woman has sharp features and is checking out everyone who passes by. The young man has soft features but has the build of a ninja, his muscles showing in his sleeveless shirt. Unlike his colleagues, he has short hair and is looking in your direction, passing a smile to Nami. "He's looking at you," you both whisper in unison to each other, immediately eyeing each other with a knowing look while Naruto looks at the two of you in confusion. "Come on-" Nami waves her hand at you and Naruto- "we should go stand with them till Kakashi arrives. Can't let Iruka bear the burden of entertaining them." You nod and turn to give Naruto a hand to get up. Naruto grabs your hand with a resonating clap and you pull the unwilling ninja's weight up with all your might, driving a giggle out of you. "I'm sure Kakashi will treat you with something delicious on the wa-" Your words are interrupted as your heart comes into your mouth when Naruto gets up and your right foot loses its footing at the edge of the canal platform.  Naruto is quick to use his hand to stop you from falling while another hand comes to grab your other side and slide you closer to them and away from the edge. "Oh!" Naruto exclaims at the figure who has prevented your fall into the canal, "Itachi aniki! 'Sup!"  Your heart is not going back any time soon, watching Itachi Uchiha's eyes read yours as he makes sure you are well away from the edge.  His hair is in a ponytail today. The loose strands are being teased by the breeze as a faint smile rests on his lips and his features so clear and brighter in the daylight. His eyes too. The browns are soft with a shade that runs deeper. "There should be better ways for the two of you to meet, right?" Nami is quick to comment, bringing you out of your trance of having looked at the man longer than you should. "So, they've already met?" you hear Kakashi's voice come from right next to Nami, giving her a mild scare. Naruto is quick to raise his fists to punch Kakashi in his gut for being late.

Right. Introduction. You take a step back from Itachi and raise your hand. "Hi, I'm Y/N. Y/L/N Y/N." You notice him dressed in a shirt, jacket and pair of trousers, just like Kakashi; unlike the overalls he was wearing that evening when you two first met. You cannot help but admit to yourself how well the Konoha dress code suits him. Itachi takes your hand for a light shake. "Uchiha Itachi." His hand is a little cold. And he likes the warmth coming from your palm. Maybe that's why when he gets down from the platform, he offers you his hand again to help you get down gracefully. Maybe it's the morning sun getting your cheeks all hot. Maybe it's something else you rather not think about as you start walking towards the caravan waiting for you.  Naruto and Nami are leading followed by Kakashi waving at an almost tired Iruka, followed by you and Itachi. Even though it's barely a few feet, the distance feels a bit long as you two walk quietly. You are not sure what to say. Rather, you are not sure how to suppress this erratic heartbeat you can feel in your throat.

Wait. Wait a minute. You look around you and slowly the realisation hits. "Kakashi senpai-" you still want to make sure- "who all are accompanying the caravan?" "Just us," the man replies, "Nami, Naruto, you, Itachi and me." Naruto turns around to walk backwards. "Isn't Itachi ani on rest? He is still recovering from his injuries." Your head turns to look at Itachi, curious about these 'injuries'. If that man is injured, he shows no signs of them. His poise does not give anything away. "Yes, Itachi is still recovering from his injuries," Kakashi announces as everyone reaches the spot where the Konoha's guests are waiting for them, "but considering this is a simple convoy task, we thought it would be nice to help him get back into the field with a simple first mission. Moreover, the village we are headed to has one of the best hot springs to help heal your injuries. Isn't that right, Sakazuki-san?" The Bamboo village chief looks at Kakashi with an air of judgement before letting out a scoff. "One of the best? Our village has the best healer's hot springs, Hatake. Of course, the Konoha villagers are welcome there." Introductions are made between the caravan and the Konoha ninjas. The older two men, Fukaboshi and Izo, are not much talkers. The young woman, Kozuki, seems to be interested in Kakashi and Itachi. And the young man, Toge, is more than happy to introduce himself to Nami and you. And so the journey to another land begins, with strangers, suspicions, buried secrets, curiosity and a little crush.

[uhuraisgay]

fic writer meme

ty lore @megafaunatic for tagging meee :3c

How many works do you have on Ao3?

fifty three as of today. tomorrow? who knows.... (probably still fifty three)

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

518,435 words .... wrow.....

3. What fandoms do you write for?

historically its been all over the place but theres so much stuff rotting and dying in my gdrive that has never been posted so i feel like i have a broader actual ouvre than is represented on ao3. which is mdzs heavy at least in the past couple years

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. beyond all limit (wangxian i wrote for lore right after i first read the book) 4. if the story's over (moshang post-divorce get-together fic) 3. someone as good for me as you (written in 2016 for holster and ransom when i was reading check, please. LMAO) 2. at least as deep as the pacific ocean (written in 2015 in the clearest example of 'person distraught by the tragic ending of a tragedy misses the fucking point and writes a coffee shop au of achilles and patroclus after she read tsoa' ever, even bigger LMAO) 1. your name safe in their mouth (lsz gets his dad back, and other emotional adventures)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i used to try to reply to every comment i got but i stopped doing that around the same time i went to college and got more depressed. but i love reading comments and i sometimes reply if someone says something that moves me or like. asks me a question about the fic that i want to elaborate on? because i love to yap

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

i'm not really good at writing straight angst i feel like it's normally like. angst with catharsis. but i wrote some explorations on grief in the past couple years that i feel like have the angst factor (what i have of you about nhs after nmj dies, and then when your beard fell out about my sweetie pie kageyama tobio in middle school after his grandpa dies)

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

i have a lot of silly fluffy fics... idk i try to toe the line mostly of like. the joys and sadnesses of human experience but sometimes you just gotta fluff it up. i'll set the table, you can make the fire, which is book verse aziraphale/crowley living in a cottage and being in love, comes to mind....i love that one

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i don't think i've ever really gotten hate on a fic? i have been extremely lucky in that regard. especially since my whole ouvre from like 2014 onward is on that damn site and much of it is very cringeworthy.

9. Do you write smut?

not well!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you have written?

i often will do like kind of a quasi-crossover kind of thing rather than a True Crossover wherein i take characters i like from one medium and plop them into the roles and places of characters i like from another medium. i did a dragon age wangxian fic where lwj was the inquisitor from da:i called we held together the fragile sky that kind of exemplifies this dynamic

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of or that anyone has ever notified me of, but i also don't look that hard. if this has ever happened, it would hurt my feelings, so please don't do it ? lol

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes!!!! and i was honored

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

not as such but i have one not-intended-for-posting fic which is basically just a transcription of jokes i have with my roommate about haikyuu characters LOL which i think counts as co-writing. she's my co-writer in spirit even if i'm the one at the keyboard

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

my answer to this changes with every new fixation i have. like right now it's kagehina. if you asked me four years ago i would have said wangxian. You Know?

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

SO MANY...i think probably my fullmetal alchemist nie brothers au....i try not to post things until they are done and fully edited now, but that one was a whim-based fic that i lost all strength for as soon as i started thinking too hard about kagehina. i also had a fem nielan sci fi au that was vaguely based off beauty and the beast but nmj was like stuck in a ship and she thought she was its computer and that she was a program but she was actually a person....which i never posted any of except snippets on twitter and i think it was just too sprawling for my current skill level...i just was never able to wrangle it. but i am fond of it nonetheless

16. What are your writing strengths?

based on what other people have told me i would say the way i write sibling / family relationships, and while my prose is not always pretty i do think it can be pretty at times ...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i feel like it's often too self-indulgent even if that's what fic is for lol, and i tend to look back on fics and think, i wrote that because i had feelings about it and wanted to say it, but i'm not necessarily sure that This Character would say/do that at this point in time....idk like i fear that when i don't think about it hard enough my characterization can be weak or guided by what eye personally would do vs. what The Character would do. but some of that is because the majority of my fics on ao3 are from years and years ago and i (hopefully) have continued to improve

18. Thoughts of writing dialogue in another language in fics?

i'm picky about it but when it's done well i think it's really fun and builds so much of the world/character. i think when it's bad it's really bad. when i go about it i try to think about like, a) do i know this language myself/do i know someone who does. if the answer is no i try to keep it really minimal. b) how do people who know multiple languages approach speaking those multiple languages naturally in real life. like (IN MY EXPERIENCE) ppl don't tend to switch languages for random words mid-sentence unless those words are like, mom, dad, uncle, aunt, ect...maybe swearing if they're less familiar with one of the languages and don't know slang/swearing in it...but again when it's done well it's really good and i'm not an expert. i just can kinda tell when it feels off when i read it, if that makes sense...(it's the same way i feel about grammar lol. sometimes i can just tell it's a little Off)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

probably either fma or soul eater or the sister's grimm book series when i was in middle school. or maybe doctor who? idk i had a lot of fanfic notebooks that i have since destroyed and then regretted destroying

20. Favorite fic you have written?

at the present moment it's in these coming years my kagehina love letter but again i feel like it changes constantly. like the more i write the better i get and the more the newest/most polished thing i've written sort of Becomes my favorite just by default of my satisfaction level with it. sorry if that's a bad answer

tagging @yuebings @dcyiyou @burins @cairoscene @cafecliche @perilously sorry if you've been tagged already also if you want to do this and i didn't tag you just say i did. I'll shut up now

[indigosunsetao3]

Keeping Lines Blurry

Chapter 1 - It's Been A Long Time

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick X Original FMC 8.4k words - AO3 Link.

“In position,” Gaz said into the microphone that was clipped on the inside of his suit jacket. He was stationed outside a side door to the old building, bundled up in a long peacoat that went down to his knees with black gloves and a hidden pistol holstered to his chest. If he weren’t trying to look the part of an aristocratic politician, he would have pulled the beanie out of his pocket and shoved it over his head to cover his ears. The wind was frigid and standing down an alleyway just turned it into a wind tunnel that even the upturned collar of his coat did nothing for.

“You look cold sergeant,” came Soap’s voice over his earpiece and Gaz snapped his eyes toward a high-rise a little under a klick away. Soap was smirking when he talked, you could tell by the inflection and Gaz casually scratched at his cheek with his middle finger which just earned him a laugh in response.

“Come on down from your little nest and you can find out,” Gaz responded as he pulled out his phone and made it look like he was reviewing something. No one else was outside, it was too cold for someone to linger but he still had to put on a front. There was a pack of cigarettes in his coat that he could dig out and pop in his mouth in a matter of moments to make it look like he snuck out for a quick smoke. He didn’t want to if he didn’t have to though, he had cut way back on his habit and didn’t want to hear shit from Ghost for it. “I’ll trade with you,” he muttered as a shiver ran down his spine.

“Aye well, we can’t all be pretty boys for the party now, can we?” Soap inquired, “my hair sort of precludes me from blending in,” he tacked on. When they were all briefed for the mission Alex and Gaz had been assigned to the premises while Ghost and Soap were overwatch and Price was positioned directly with their intended job, blending into the man’s security. “Get a mohawk and you can play with the big boys.”

“Or be a lieutenant,” Ghost stated after a moment. He was positioned in another building with a sniper rifle sweeping the area, covering the back half of the building that Soap couldn’t. They had been set up hours ago, watching the catering staff bringing in their supplies and the event staff doing their last-minute prep. The team had done a full hands-on sweep the day before in cooperation with the other nations' special forces so it was just a matter of watching for suspicious activity now.

The gathering tonight was a large gala in Minsk, the capital of Belarus. It was supposed to be a humanitarian relief fundraiser that pulled in all of the wealthiest people around Europe to aid the current crisis in the Middle East. But it was also being used as a careful political meeting between representatives from Russia, England, America, and other big players on the world’s stage on semi-neutral terms. Tensions were high once again between all the world powers; disagreements on arms dealing, disaster relief, accusations of election tampering, and of course the Russian invasion of Ukraine were big contenders for the conversations. But all the countries history’s ran deep, they were always bound to butt heads over something, even if they may agree on the issue to some degree.

“I think it’s more about your need for a mask, LT” came Soap’s response. “I doubt their delicate sensitivities would be able to handle seeing a skull lurking about.”

“I can see them clutching their pearls and stacks of cash now,” Gaz answered laughing a bit as he randomly scrolled through his phone, swiping through apps and news stories to make him seem busy. It was a burner so there was nothing personal on it, though he had been keeping up with the soccer match, England was looking promising to make it to the World Cup this year. His sister had been pestering him to take some leave so they could go to a game but there just never seemed to be a good time for him to do it.

“Keep it tight out there,” came Price’s voice, the sound of some classical music wavering in the background as his mic cut in.

“Sorry sir,” Gaz answered quickly as his eyes snapped up to the area where Soap would be. They always goaded one another, like children really, and Price usually had to step in to get them to knock it off. Granted most of the time Price was smirking as he admonished them and, on a few occasions, he came back with his retort that shut the rest of them down, with either shock or amusement. “What’s the current status inside?”

“Lots of champagne, diamonds, and fancy little foods that could barely feed a mouse,” came Alex’s voice. He was inside working the floor, blending in as a staff member. “Price has been roped into a conversation with a woman,” he added, his voice a low whisper but the conspiratorial tone was unmistakable. “Looks to be someone’s mom,” he tacked on as glasses clinked in the background, “or grandmother.”

“She cute Captain?” Gaz asked casually. So much for keeping it tight and professional. Despite the fact they were all chatting casually, they all still knew how to do their jobs and keep an eye out on everything. Gaz trusted no one with his life more than these men and even if they were having a good time, they were all still on high alert and doing what they did best.

“Bring her by the window, let us have a look,” Soap chimed in, the sound of his scope clicking a bit as he zoomed in his view. “Do we need to find somewhere else to be tonight? Just put a sock on the door if you need some privacy.” He cut off mid-laugh, tone changing instantly to serious before his next words. “Gaz movement down the alley to your left.”

Gaz instantly felt himself tense at the last words from Soap, but he didn’t move from his casual stance as he continued to stare at his phone screen. He couldn’t act as if someone alerted him so he needed to find the movement himself through natural means. So much for not smoking. Digging into his jacket he pulled out the pack and whacked it hard against his palm a few times, turning his head to peer down the alley. He couldn’t see anything yet, there were vehicles parked on one side and a large trash dumpster on the other.

“Talk to me,” Gaz muttered as he slipped a cigarette between his lips and flipped his zippo against his leg to flick the cap open and light it. He puffed slowly, putting everything away in his coat pocket as he did his best to look around without seeming suspicious.

“Can’t see anything,” Soap responded, “Ghost got anything?” He asked before letting up on his com to free up the channel.

“Nothing on my side,” Ghost answered quickly. “Wait,” he came back then there was a long pause of silence. “No, just catering staff over here outside taking a break.”

“It was two figures,” Soap answered quickly, sounding a bit frustrated as he looked around quickly trying to find what he had seen. “Skulking by the wall,” he described before Gaz answered back.

“I see them,” his voice was low and below his breath as he inhaled the smoke, holding it in his lungs for a moment before letting it out again. The lightheaded high hit him and he shut his eyes to take it in for a moment. “Man and a woman,” he tacked on simply as he watched the woman stumble a bit before the man caught her around the waist with one hand. “Seems like they may have snuck out here for some alone time,” he inhaled again and raised his eyebrow as the man came more into view, the light above the door throwing him in relief. The man’s face was sweaty and he seemed disheveled, his bowtie was undone hanging around his neck, and his hair was mussed atop of his head.

“Bit cold out here,” Gaz stated with a smirk on his lips as the woman tugged down on her dress hem. He flicked the ash from his cigarette before popping it back into his mouth waiting for some sort of response from them, if they even spoke English.

Gaz had taken them by surprise, the man about jumped out of his skin when Gaz spoke and grabbed the dumpster to steady himself. He didn’t speak English but he muttered something under his breath in Russian to the woman before gesturing for the door Gaz was standing next to. Gaz picked up on it and stepped a few inches away to give them leave to walk in. The man did not look pleased that they had a witness to them walking inside as he worked on setting his bowtie right again while leaning against the wall. Gaz noticed he had a wedding ring on his finger while the woman did not and she was certainly much younger and too pretty for him.

“Something tells me she is not the missus,” Soap replied as he watched the woman sweep inside while patting down her hair.

“Ditch them,” came Ghost’s voice suddenly. “I need eyes on the staff back here, a van just pulled up,” he continued. “Alex get out here. Something isn’t right,” he continued before going silent again.

“On it,” Gaz answered right after Alex confirmed he was on the way. Snuffing out his cigarette on the wall Gaz flicked it into the open dumpster before sidestepping the dumpster headed down the alleyway at a fast walk. He didn’t want to flat out run and draw attention if this was nothing but Ghost seemed pretty urgent nonetheless.

“You’re out of my sights,” Soap cut in as Gaz’s form disappeared into the darkness of the alley. “All quiet up here still, just a few people leaving the party early.”

“They’re unloading crates,” Ghost stated, “security just showed up so don’t come in hot. The caterers seem confused, this delivery was not on the books.”

Gaz was near the end of the alley and he peered around the brick corner to see the unmarked black van. There were two workers unloading wooden crates from the back and another worker was talking to security, their conversation all in Russian. Security didn’t seem too bothered but the catering staff seemed a bit confused as they brought out carts to wheel the crates inside. “I’m going to get a look at the crates,” Gaz stated as he rolled his head from side to side, “follow my lead, Alex.”

“On it,” Alex answered as he appeared at the door with a cart, handing it off to another catering staffer.

“Oi,” Gaz called out as he stumbled a bit into the light, holding a cigarette between his fingers. “Anyone have a light?” He inquired and he visibly flinched as a security officer rounded on him with his gun raised. “Woah,” he raised his hands innocently, “just need a light bruv,” he mimed a lighter and waved his cigarette to show what he was asking for. The security officer grunted a bit and nodded with his head over at one of the caterers, all of whom had frozen at the sight of the gun. “Alright then,” Gaz said a bit sarcastically as he walked over to the caterers swaying a bit, his head turned to look over his shoulder at the security officer before a woman stepped forward with a lighter. Gaz continued to walk like he had one too many and even stumbled a bit as he leaned down to touch his cigarette to the flame, putting on that he was uncoordinated and unsteady.

Once the cigarette was lit he moved out of the way, toward the carts with the crates on them, and puffed slowly. He was trying to get a good look at them for any distinct markings or if he could see anything between the slats. There was hay or some type of stuffing in them because it was sticking out from the gaps in the wood but that was it, he couldn’t see anything inside and the wood was clear of any lettering or logos. “I can’t see shit,” Gaz muttered softly into his mic as he curled his tongue up to take a deep inhale of smoke. “Alex?”

“Nothing,” Alex answered with a small grunt, “they’re heavy though and something is rattling inside.”

“Time to make a scene,” Gaz said quietly as Alex appeared in the doorway again to take another crate. He didn’t have a cart this time, though; he just offered to carry one inside, huffing as it was loaded into his arms. When he turned to head back into the kitchen, Gaz locked eyes with him and gave him a small nod before pushing up off the wall he had been leaning on. “Sell it,” Gaz muttered before he stumbled his way toward the door as if he were going to go back inside for the party but collided hard with Alex instead.

The crate fell to the ground with a loud crash, and Gaz cursed loudly as he had been knocked back on his ass onto the concrete. His gloves tore in a spot as they scraped against the concrete, and he felt a sharp sting in his palm, where his skin had scraped.

“Fucking idiot!” Gaz yelled out as Alex crouched down in front of him to block everyone’s view, acting as if he were going to help Gaz up. They had positioned themselves in the door so they could get a good look at the contents that had spilled all over, half inside, half outside. Fuck. Guns and ammo had come pouring out, and they only had moments to react.

“Guns,” Alex said quickly, “Russian RPK’s,” he continued to explain before the van workers had advanced on them. They were yelling in Russian and had produced the same type of guns, holding them aimed right at Alex’s back, the catering staff, and the security guard, who didn’t have a chance to draw his gun again.

“I only have a clear shot on one,” came Ghost’s voice.

“Duck,” Gaz said as his hand shot under his suit jacket and yanked out his pistol. He hadn’t fastened the holster, and it was loaded with one shot chambered already, safety off.

Alex didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as Gaz’s hand disappeared under his jacket, he dropped his head and reached for his gun in his ridiculous cummerbund.

The man with his gun trained on Alex went down first, a shot to the back of the head from Ghost’s sniper rifle. The second man aiming at the catering staff went down next with a shot from Gaz’s silenced pistol and the third that was by the security guard hit the ground dead from Alex’s gun. It took less than ten seconds and the people around them were shocked into silence for a few seconds before the screaming started.

“Put the fucking gun down,” Gaz ordered as the security guard finally produced his gun and was aiming it at Gaz again, who had his own aimed right back. “We just saved your ass. Put. It. Down!” He knew there was a language barrier but the guy seemed to catch the hint and he lowered the gun before looking back at the bodies on the ground again.

“Clear,” Ghost stated into the comms to give Soap and Price an update on what had just happened. “Check and see how many guns were being loaded and see who was coming to pick up the goods,” Ghost finished.

“On it,” Gaz answered as he pushed up into a standing position and moved to the back of the van to check. The thing was packed full of crates and he ripped at one of the planks on one to reveal more guns and ammo. “They are planning something,” he said as he checked yet another crate. “There is heavy weaponry in here, RPKs, AKs, pistols, and…fucking hell grenades”

“We’re evacuating the undersecretary,” came Price’s voice, “the event security has all disappeared and I don’t like the looks of it.”

“They didn’t disappear,” Alex answered suddenly as his head snapped to the window that looked into the kitchen. “They’re here to get their delivery.” About fifteen men had suddenly appeared in the kitchen and some of them went to the crates that had been loaded onto the metal counters while others were coming outside to see what the holdup had been. The men inside were loading their clips into the guns and talking in rapid Russian as Alex attempted to shoo the catering staff away down the alley Gaz had come from only minutes before.

“They were planning a damn massacre,” Gaz said as he rushed to get a gun out of a crate he pried open while Alex scooped one up off the ground and loaded it. “Get everyone out of there Cap,” Gaz said as he clicked the firing pin in place before leaning around the van and leveling his gun at the kitchen door. “We’ll keep them busy,” he added before the first shot was fired from inside the kitchen shattering the window, the bullet was aimed for Alex who they had spotted had picked up one of the guns.

“Don’t come out the front,” came Soap’s voice suddenly. “There’s a lot of movement out here, oh fuck,” he cut off as an explosion rattled the ground. “They’ve got car bombs,” he came back, the radio crackling a bit “they’re mowing people down. They just rammed the fence and are coming out of armored trucks locked and loaded.”

Sure enough, Gaz could hear the gunfire in the not so distance, though it was a bit muffled compared to the firefight that had opened up between him, Alex, and the Russians in the kitchen. “How the fuck did this happen?” Gaz yelled as he shot a man through the chest and ducked back to avoid a bullet that whizzed by his head. “We did a sweep, they were supposed to have done a thorough check on the security company,” he added as he dug one-handed in a crate to scoop up some grenades. If they had armored trucks they were going to need more than AK’s and RPK’s to fight back. Hopefully, the Americans brought some good toys with them.

“When you’re checked and cleared by the Russian government it’s a little easier to sneak in Russian operatives,” Ghost answered as a well-placed shot took out a man through the busted out kitchen window. “Gate crashing is always a little hard to plan for anyway,” another shot and another man fell.

“I’ve got the undersecretary in a back room, east wing off the library,” Price came in, “I don’t have anything besides a damn pistol and limited shots. Lost two of the security team on our way here. Make quick work of this,” he ordered.

“We’ll come to you,” Gaz said as he pulled another gun out, loaded it, and slung it over his shoulder. He shoved magazines into any and all pockets that he had and tossed some to Alex who had joined him at the van for cover. “Take what you can carry, I’m going to blow it,” Gaz said to Alex who nodded as he stashed some grenades a second pistol, and more ammo on himself.

They had managed to weed down the fifteen or so men inside down to just a handful but they were locked in tight, hiding behind the brick walls and shooting sporadically over the windowsill. Grabbing a grenade Gaz pulled the pin and lobbed it right through the window and turned to hide behind the van as he heard panicked yells before the explosion. The van shook from the blowback and Gaz’s teeth clicked together as he covered his ears before he peered around again. Half the kitchen wall had been blown out and there was part of a body smoldering. “Russians could give the Americans a run for their money for their love of explosions,” Gaz stated as he waited for Ghost to survey.

“Looks like you cleaned shop,” Ghost answered. “Get a move on.”

Gaz grabbed another grenade and waited for Alex to run to the kitchen and do a final sweep. He got the all-clear nod and he pulled a pin on another grenade tossed it into the back of the van and slammed the door shut. Running for the door he darted inside just as the van exploded, taking all the guns and other grenades with it so at least the Russians wouldn’t have more ammo. The crates in the kitchen had been blown apart from the first blast, one of the crates still smoking as Gaz kicked it out of the way.

Alex took point as they moved through the kitchen toward the double doors, walking in a low crouch position and looking through their sights as they moved. The building was massive and the East wing library was a good distance away from the kitchens so they needed to move fast. Kicking the door open Alex darted out into the ballroom area where the main party was being held and hid behind a pillar. Music was still playing over the sound speakers, pictures on a slide show were running on a massive projector and balloons were swaying in the breeze from the hole that had been ripped in the front of the room from the car bomb. It was eerie, to say the least as Gaz looked around, darting to a second pillar and peering to see if anyone was around.

There were a few masked men walking around the main floor, their guns aimed at the floor as they walked and toed over fallen bodies on the ground. Someone screamed as a man happened upon them and Gaz winced as they were shot point blank without hesitation. The shooter moved on to look over the rest of the room for anyone trying to hide.

“We have to move,” Alex said after a moment, “we’ll come back for them,” he promised as he looked at Gaz’s mutinous face. “We need to get Price these guns and the undersecretary and his staff safe.” Alex didn’t look happy about leaving them either but he was right, Price and those he was protecting were priority.

“Anytime the Americans want to step in would be great,” Gaz muttered, “or France for that matter.” He kept up the fast past crouch walk behind Alex as they moved, careful to make as little noise as possible as they climbed up two flights of stairs and came to an expansive hallway. They had studied the building maps for days before this mission and they knew the library was almost at the other end. Issue was there were two masked gunmen between them and the library doors.

Sliding his larger gun to his back Gaz pulled out his silenced pistol darted across the hall and ducked into a door jam before nodding at Alex. They both aimed at a man on either side and took their shots within milliseconds of one another. They fell like stones, blood spraying on the wall as they dropped before pooling around their heads. Gaz and Alex still didn’t move, however, waiting to see if they had any other friends with them that they hadn’t seen before. No one else appeared and Gaz stepped out first, taking up point this time as he dragged the big gun back off his shoulder and jogged down toward the library.

“We’re in the library sir,” Gaz said into the radio as he and Alex stepped into the large ornate room. His words came between Soap and Ghost talking to one another about what was happening outside. Apparently, more guards had shown up to get weaponry from the van and when they found that wasn’t an option they scrambled for a new plan as Ghost picked them off one by one until they grew wise and hid. Soap had managed to take out an armored truck with a well-placed shot to a propane heater for the valet services and was doing his best to take off masked men through the windows.

“Rog,” Price responded, “we’re coming from the back left.” Gaz turned his attention that way as Alex watched the door. When they heard a door creak open Gaz raised his gun and stared down his sights until he saw Price come around a shelf full of books, pistol also raised.

“Good to see you, sir,” Gaz stated as he slipped his second RPK off his shoulder and passed it off to Price who quickly inspected it and put the strap over his shoulder. There was a small group of people behind Price who looked frazzled and terrified. The undersecretary was surrounded by two guards and a few others in his group were circled about, rubbing their arms and looking around for what was next. “What’s the plan?”

“Fire escape,” Price answered as he looked back at the group. “There’s a fire escape at the end of the hallway outside the big window. Everyone is going out that way, one at a time. One of my men will go first to make sure it is clear and cover us, then you will follow. We will have to make a run for it, there will be transport waiting for us a street over.”

The group looked apprehensive of this plan, the women were in flimsy silk dresses and heels that certainly were not made for climbing down metal fire escapes. The rest of the men looked older or out of shape for running save maybe one. But they all nodded after a beat of silence and Price turned back around to talk to Alex and Gaz again.

Suddenly a man, one of the younger ones but still a few solid years older than Gaz blurted out, “what about my wife?” He looked vaguely familiar to Gaz but he couldn’t place it, it had to be because he had seen him in the security briefings or on television since he worked for the undersecretary. Something needled in his brain that wasn’t it, he knew him from somewhere else but he didn’t have time to try and place it at the moment. It would come to him at three in the morning when he couldn’t sleep and it was still bothering him.

Price turned back to him, “our priority is you. We get you out and we will come back for any survivors and take out the remaining threats. As I told you before.” He seemed a bit agitated at the interruption but the man still pressed.

“She went to the bathroom right before all of this happened, she’s probably terrified and if they find her,” he hesitated and swallowed hard. “Please, I can’t leave here without her.”

“I’ll go,” Gaz volunteered abruptly with a small nod at the man before turning to Price again. “They are taking out any survivors they find without hesitation, Captain. If she’s still alive she won’t be for long.” He wanted to take out those men he had seen in the main room and this gave him an excuse to circle back. Hopefully, the woman had stayed hidden in the bathroom and wasn’t one of the bodies on the floor. “What bathroom?” He asked looking back at the guy, doing his best to not look at Price out of the corner of his eye who looked less than impressed with this idea.

“It’s off the lounge next to the main room,” the man answered, relief showing over his face at Gaz’s offer. “She didn’t even want to come to this,” he explained, “she’s sick of me traveling all the time but I had to come to this so I dragged her along.”

“I’ll find her. What’s her name?” Gaz asked before looking at Price who just nodded, still not pleased but not telling Gaz no.

“Liv,” the man replied as he patted his pockets as if looking for his wallet or phone. “I can show you…” he started.

“No time for that,” Price answered before turning to Gaz. “You go to that bathroom and you find her. If she is not there you are to get to rendezvous point C. That is an order,” Price stated simply. There were always multiple plans for escape for these sorts of things so Gaz knew exactly where he needed to go once he found this woman. “You have fifteen minutes,” he added on. He was right, his priority was the undersecretary and even waiting an extra minute was a huge risk.

“She’s in a silver dress, dark hair,” the man tacked on giving up on trying to pull up a picture on his phone. “I think she went with a friend,” he added, glancing at Price who indicated for Alex to lead the way out of the room and make sure it was still secure.

“See you shortly” Gaz answered before jogging away from them. He heard Price start moving them but soon the distance from them was too great for Gaz to hear anything. All he could hear now was his footsteps, gunfire, distant explosions, and Soap and Ghost still talking to one another. This night had turned into a disaster that was going to have a huge ripple effect on the world in the next few hours and days.

“What’s it look like out there?” Gaz asked into his comms as he crept down the same flight of stairs, he and Alex had climbed mere minutes before. His path was still clear but who knew where the men in the main room had moved to now.

“Fucking disaster,” Soap said after a brief pause. “I’m already running low on ammo, we hadn’t planned for a damn warzone,” his words were clipped and he sounded frustrated.

“I’ve got company,” Ghost came in. “I’m going to have to move. Soap get out of there, it’s just matter of time before they come for you.”

“Rendezvous C,” Price cut in just as Alex added the all-clear for the group to start moving down the fire escape. “Move it Gaz, you’ve got thirteen minutes. And don’t fuck around Soap. Cut your losses and live to fight another day,” Price added in for good measure. He knew his team well enough to know Soap was probably cussing up a storm that he was being told to leave instead of fight.

Gaz had made it back to the main floor and was ducked down behind a decorative wall. With it being nighttime outside the high windows that hadn’t been shot out or exploded allowed for some reflection like a mirror. There were still men moving about the floor, they were setting what seemed to be claymore bombs which would takeout anyone attempting to come in and rescue. He’d have to warn Price so he could pass the information along to the proper authorities when they eventually came in and cleared the area.

There were too many men for Gaz to engage in an open firefight, especially if Soap had been removed from overwatch so he needed to sneak. If he was lucky he could potentially set off a chain reaction with a grenade on their way out to take all the assholes out in one shot. Keeping as far down to the ground as possible Gaz worked his way around the room, sliding underneath tables and palming his pistol ready to strike. He managed to make it to the side lounge without incident but there was no way to get to the bathrooms without being seen. There were three men in the room unloading more crates full of claymores and other weaponry.

Slipping behind a couch Gaz raised his pistol over the cushions before following suit with the rest of his body. He had four shots left for his pistol so he had to make them count. They hadn’t seen him yet so he took the extra second to plan out his shots before firing, taking the one standing nearest the fireplace first since he was facing more toward Gaz. Next was the one popping the legs onto a claymore but he shifted into a standing position so it took two shots to take him out. The third man had become aware of the situation and was reaching for his radio, so Gaz had to make a quick choice to shoot the thing out of his hand before he could call for backup. That was the end of his quiet bullets.

Leaping bodily over the couch Gaz was on top of the man slamming his still gloved hand over his mouth as they rolled to the floor. The man was cursing and yelling for help in Russian before Gaz cut him off and they were scrambling on the rug, knocking into crates and a coffee table. The man’s right hand was useless, the walkie-talkie had exploded in it and the bullet had gone straight through the flesh and bone mangling it. The guy still put up a fight though and Gaz took an elbow to the jaw hard enough to make his ears ring before he managed to get the man on his stomach on the floor. The Russian man had been disguised as event staff so unluckily for him a tie was part of the attire, which Gaz was now using to choke him to death with. Kneeling on his back Gaz twisted the black silk material in his fist until the man stopped moving.

Not wasting time Gaz shot back up and grabbed his discarded pistol, shoving it into his chest holster before heading toward the hallway that held the bathrooms. He didn’t run into anyone else as he made his way but there were shoeprints in blood on the tile that led from the woman’s bathroom back the way he came. As he got closer to the door he could see there was a puddle of blood seeping from under it and bullet holes in the door. “Shit,” Gaz said to himself as he looked it over before reaching out and opening the door slowly with his left hand, the RPK in his right ready to shoot.

The door was stuck and didn’t want to open fully and Gaz used his shoulder to push it open more, hearing the sickening sound of something sliding through the blood. He stopped pushing when the gap was large enough for him to get inside and what he found caused him to shut his eyes briefly. A woman was dead on the floor, her eyes wide open and body littered with bullet holes as if she had just been shot through the door. This wasn’t Liv though, the woman on the ground was blonde and in a light pink dress, though it was stained mostly red now. But if it wasn’t Liv maybe it was her friend that her husband said she went to the bathroom with so she could still be in here.

Gaz moved to the first stall and knocked it open, there was no one in there. He moved to the next one, looking in the mirror as his backup to make sure nothing snuck up on him as he moved. This stall was partially open and he couldn’t see anything in there either. He cleared two more that were empty but when he got to the last door it didn’t budge. There was no way for him to see in unless he got on his stomach on the ground. The doors went almost to the floor and pretty far up toward the ceiling and it was definitely locked, he nudged it lightly with his shoulder and it didn’t budge.

“Liv are you in there?” Gaz asked quietly as he backed up and raised his gun to the door. He wasn’t going to risk it being a Russian operative taking a pee break. “Liv my name is Kyle, I’m with SAS. Your husband asked me to find you,” he tried again. He knew he only had a few minutes left to make it to the rendezvous and if Liv wasn’t in here he didn’t want to waste time when he could be taking out a few bastards on his retreat. He was about to knock but then he heard movement in the stall. He raised his gun a little higher as the lock clicked and the door started to move inward toward the stall to reveal a woman standing there.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Gaz muttered as he took in the frightened woman. That’s why the man, her husband, had looked so familiar upstairs. “Olivia,” he said after a moment. Pieces of the puzzle his brain had been avoiding were falling rapidly into place and Gaz felt his stomach twist. Liv was short for fucking Olivia. The same name as his ex-fiancé who had married a ‘family friend’ who was a politician who worked in the British government.

“Kyle?” Olivia asked, obviously as shocked and surprised as Gaz was. She was holding up the hem of her dress, having been standing on the toilet bowl in her heels. Henry had told her that SAS was part of the security for the gala that evening but it hadn’t even crossed her mind that Kyle would be part of that. He was part of a task force that was involved in much more pressing matters she thought. “Oh my God,” she breathed as she took in the body on the floor. “Leah. I told her to stay in the stall, but she was so scared and I heard them shoot her but,” she could feel herself wretch and she turned quickly to get sick in the toilet behind her.

“We have to go Liv,” Kyle said after she finished and wiped her mouth with the back of her left hand, which had an obnoxiously large diamond ring on it. He always hated that nickname for her, it wasn’t fitting in his eyes but if that’s what she went by now then so be it. It had been over three years since he had last seen her, they were two different people now, and he wasn’t going to pretend they were on good terms and call her what he used to. “The area is completely overrun with Russian operatives, so you’re going to have to run,” he looked down at her heels before back up at her face.

“I can run in heels,” Olivia answered his questioning look before gesturing for him to lead the way. He had called her Liv. That was what her husband Henry always preferred to use, and the name Kyle always disliked the most. “Is Henry alright?” She asked after a moment as Gaz pulled the door open and stepped around Leah’s body back into the hallway, holding the door for her to slide out behind him. “We went to the bathroom when we heard the shooting start.”

“He’s fine. He’s with my Captain and the rest of the group,” Gaz answered as he crept down the hallway before shooting his left arm out behind him to stop her. He needed to think of the best way out of here and her talking to him was too distracting. Seeing her face after all these years, hearing her voice, had stirred up a bunch of shit in his mind that he was not prepared to deal with and it was taking him off his game. “I need you to stay right behind me,” he stated turning to glance at her over his shoulder, “don’t talk. And if I say duck you duck, run you run.”

“Fine,” Olivia answered him, “what is your plan? Are there others here to help?” She asked as her eyes spotted the three bodies on the floor of the lounge. Two of them had been shot but the third one had a tie wrapped around his neck and it was facing the wrong way as if he had been choked with it.

“Liv. I said quiet,” Gaz answered her, his voice clipped and no longer the soft voice reassuring voice he had been using when he first spoke to her through the bathroom stall. She had been cold, colder, when she last communicated with him so he was just returning the same courtesy. “I plan to get you out of here to our rendezvous point so you all can be extracted. Henry is already there they are waiting on us but we have six minutes so we have to move. Now.”

Gaz was on the move out of the room and he could feel Olivia right behind him, she was keeping up despite the heels, though he wished she could ditch them. The clicking on the tile was too loud but the glass everywhere made that impossible. He’d just have to fight their way out of there and before he could fully decide on that plan on his own it was decided for him. A man came around the corner and Gaz quickly raised his gun and smashed the butt of it into the guy’s face knocking him out cold in a single hit. Olivia gasped behind him but she covered her mouth with her hand quickly to mask it before Gaz began to move again, raising his gun to use the sights to look around the room.

“You need to run for that door,” Gaz said pointing to the main front door with his gun muzzle. There were men in the room lurking about and Olivia looked at him like he was crazy. If she went for the door she’d be in the open and would be dead before she ever made it. “I’m going to take out that guy,” he pointed with his left hand, “which will distract them and draw their fire on me. You run out that door and go immediately to your right and keep running that way. Don’t stop, I’ll catch up with you.”

Olivia shook her head, “I’ll never make it. There are too many of them. The minute they see me they’ll come after me.” She paused looking at the path she’d have to take, there were overturned tables and chairs she could use for a little cover, maybe. “And how are you supposed to get out if you are going to draw their fire?” She asked furiously a second later as Gaz refused to look at her and instead kept watching the men work to try and get an idea of their movements.

“Because I know what I am doing, it’s my job,” Gaz answered her simply as he cut his eyes over to her for a brief second. His job had always been a source of contention in their relationship and what had finally been the breakdown of it. “I can handle it Liv, just go when I make the first shot. Don’t look back, don’t hesitate, and avoid those bombs,” he pointed with his left hand at one. “Or we’re all dead.”

“Kyle, maybe we should,” Olivia said after a moment ready to continue to fight him on it but he fired. The man he had aimed for went down with a head shot and Gaz yelled at her to run. Hiking up the hem of her silk dress again Olivia ran for the door, her feet screaming at her as they cleared foot after foot of tile toward the blown-out door. There was more gunfire as she threw her arms above her head for some sort of protection and she swore she felt the breeze of bullets graze by her as she jumped over one of the bombs Gaz had told her to avoid.

“Keep going,” Gaz yelled over the firefight as he took another shot at two men advancing on him. He was trusting Olivia was going to follow his instructions, he couldn’t wait to see because he was about to be swarmed. Digging out a grenade from his coat pocket Gaz pulled the pin and lobbed it over the wall he was hiding behind before running toward the kitchen in the back, shooting distracting fire behind him with his gun. He barely cleared the kitchen double doors when the grenade blast went off followed by many side explosions of the claymores going off. He hoped Olivia was down the side of the building by now because if she was still inside or too close to the front, she would be dead.

Jumping through the blown out back door Gaz immediately turned left and ran flat out down the side of the building toward the street where they were going to rendezvous. He was planning on meeting Olivia around the side of the building and he wanted to beat her there. He didn’t have a chance to tell her that part of the plan though, the man he had been targeting had turned around too quickly. He knew she had been terrified and pissed at the idea he had for her but he wasn’t going to let her get shot. He was a much bigger target and the Russians would prefer to take out the person firing on them versus the one running away.

Gaz skidded around the side of the building in time to see Olivia come around the corner looking twice as frazzled and angry. The explosions had been extremely loud and Gaz was pretty sure half the building had collapsed in on itself now. “You hurt?” He asked as he jogged over to her as she doubled over holding her side, his eyes scanning over her quickly for any injuries. He may hate her but he didn’t want to see her hurt.

“Go to hell Kyle,” Olivia snapped as she held a stitch in her side before standing up fully again, “You’re a fucking asshole for that,” she added before pushing her hair, that had once been pinned up nicely, off her face with a glare as Gaz came closer.

“Sergeant Garrick,” Gaz answered her, his tone even which he knew would just piss her off even more. “And I’ve been called worse by better people,” he finished before hiking his gun back up again and began jogging over to the rendezvous spot which was on the other side of a small strip of woods behind the parking garage they were quickly approaching. The area seemed vastly untouched and Gaz called in over his comms for a report on the area and Alex answered back it was all quiet in this area, though everyone wanted to know what the large explosion had been.

Olivia kept her retorts to herself as they jogged through the woods, knowing deep down that she deserved the shit he was throwing at her. Even if she was pissed off at him right now, he had still come through for her like he always had even when she didn’t deserve it. Her feet were on fire, she was pretty sure she had stepped on glass since her strappy heels weren’t much protection, and she tripped over a few tree roots. Snarling she yanked her dress that caught on a bush and heard the fabric rip loudly, leaving a piece behind. Henry was going to be pissed that her dress was ruined, it was a very expensive designer that had been custom fitted to her.

“Gaz,” Price called as they cleared the tree line to find three armored cars lined up ready to go. “You’re late,” he stated looking down at his watch though there was a small smirk on his lips.

“Sorry sir,” Gaz answered as he looked over at Olivia who walked right past them toward the cars, her chin held up in a haughty gesture and pointedly not looking over at Gaz. Gaz could see Henry was standing outside of an open door and he quickly grabbed Olivia by the biceps and held her there as if inspecting her before pulling her into a tight hug. “Got a little held up by some operatives,” he stated simply as Henry stepped aside for Olivia to get in the car first before he slid in behind her, his fingers plucking at the ripped-up shreds of her dress and shutting the door behind them.

“So, you blew them all up instead?” Came Soap’s voice as he walked over with Ghost and Alex. He was grinning as he approached before gesturing over his shoulder at the car where Henry and Olivia disappeared into. “Princess didn’t seem too pleased,” he chuckled.

“Just took a leaf out of your book,” Gaz answered with a small smirk before looking at the car as the first one in the line pulled away. The undersecretary’s backup security were the ones in charge of extraction and they had brought the cars, the 141 would be meeting up with the other countries' special ops to figure out what the hell just happened. “She’s is never happy with me,” he answered sternly after a moment before cutting his eyes back to Soap. He saw the eyebrow raise on his and Alex’s face before tacking on, “Princess is Olivia.” There was a small spark of recognition on Price’s face before Gaz further explained, “the Olivia.”

“Oh shit,” Soap whistled before turning to look at the car again as it pulled away, grabbing at his vest straps with his hands to rest his arms. Soap had been there through the whole mess Gaz had gone through and helped keep him together. Soap hated her, probably more than Gaz did, for what she had done to Gaz. “Glad to see the backside of them then,” he stated with a nod.

“For now,” Price stated into the silence as he too watched the cars turn a corner out of sight. Gaz turned his attention back to him with a look of apprehension and Price merely cut his eyes over to him with a knowing look.

[boyakishantriage]

"y'know, there's a lot of legends, myths. Our past tells. Those of the past, since the past can't speak."

Sitting in the glass panel's frame, the human looks down upon the circle.

"How did you-"

"Of a council, of a group of elites who do and make decisions on behalf of people. Alienated elites, who speak for those they do not live with. Know, talk to. Especially their leader."

"Who are you?"

"Call me Trio, and I understand. That you've made an enemy of the Wolves."

Dropping to the ground, he rolled to his feet. A sword at his belt, cape unclasped and rested onto his arm.

"That minor pacifist company?"

"Minor?"

"That organisation hardly holds control over any field of society. All they have are representatives, while they may be deadly. They're hardly anything to fight against."

"Course you'd think that."

"... What's that suppose to mean?"

"This building, and all who enter it. Are marked for death, by the Wolves."

He'd drawn his sword, cape still covering one arm as he held the weapon in a relaxed state. The guards drew theirs.

"... So?"

"Beg to your gods, because I am death. Killer of kings, nations and systems."

The threat hardly held any weight, this. A single Terran, were their executioner. And he declared himself death. She waved the guards down, drawing her weapon.

"So what? You're here to kill me?"

"aye, now surrender or suffer."

"... Sure. I'll surrender-"

Flicking her blade into her hand, a relaxed grip as she thrust forward.

"SURRENDER YOUR HEAD."

"Slow."

He stated, tutting the woman as he unsheathed his sword. In her back, arms dropping to the floor as he copied her stance.

"I am death. Killer of kings, nations and systems. Surrender or suffer."

It'd been a minute. Exactly one minute, he'd sidestepped, parried, swept and then swished his blade. Slicing her neck, then limbs off before slamming her core into the ground. A single fluid motion that went back to sheathing his bloodless weapon. Blade drawn, a seperate pose. Kicking pews over, three rushed forward. Two ran towards side exits.

And almost immediately, he'd tossed his blade. Reaching for twin guns, shooting down chandeliers, swivelling the guns into cocking and then fired the leading fighters in the chest. Throwing the three back, chucking firearms forward as he swung his sword. Slamming the three of them back, holstering one gun and catching the other with his teeth. Kicking the bodies off his blade, he tossed the weapon into his hand. Twirling the gun as he sheathed his blade.

Shots rang, hitting targets, before firing at the door. A guard sliding aside as he rapidly reloaded the weapon, aiming down sight once more as he drew a second sword. A cutlass, holstering his gun as he swirled. Blade matching axe as he struck down.

The pair of men parried strikes, weapons striking in unison, before he reached into his pocket. Flipping a pocket knife between hands, whipping his cape into fold as he caught the man's axe. Fabric tearing, the movement causing fluster as he slammed onto the man's knee. And smashed a strike across his neck, grabbing the sliced arteries, flicking the knife at a rushing guard as he sliced the man's arm off.

A crazed grin on his face, as he let go. A third of the group were dead, slamming cutlass into wooden pew, he repeated.

"I am death. Killer of kings, nations and systems. Surrender, or suffer."

He dodged the arrow, guns handed out amongst the gathering as weapons were drawn. Sheathing his cutlass, he reached for his back.

"Yeon. Expand."

Bowing, the staff elongated.

"Shrink."

It shortened, the man catching the staff as he began swinging it around. Twirling and swirling, wooden chips flying into the whirlwind, hardly slowing down he advanced. Guns letting loose their talk as he swept the pellets aside.

He advanced, muttering something under the wind as more chips began to appear in the cloud. Finally, he thrust the blade forward. Throwing the spear across necks, the weapon sweeping the facility in an arc as he rushed forward with his first sword. Jumping off the overturned pew, cracking the head of a feline open as he slammed the body against the back wall. Body laid down, guns aiming at him as the spear sliced the back of more victims. Turning between spear and man, he repeated himself.

"I am death. Killer of kings, nations and kingdoms. Suffer, or die."

Lightning erupted from the blade, metal ripping out from the bodies and forming into jagged spikes, black magic.

The Terran could use black magic, souls screaming in pain as spikes thrust out. Slicing men to shreds, guards rushing in faltered, any who entered immediately cut down. Then he caught the spear in one hand twirling the weapon. In the other he slashed any who came near.

Whistling echoed out the building. The creaking of iron against concrete, whistling.

"Chop up your bodies, throw them in a pot. Make up a stew. And see what you got."

Crack, crack, crack.

The crackle of flames, as the Terran threw bodies into the pot.

"Strip up your bodies, crack their bones. Toss the naked bodies. Let's see what we got!"

"CHRONOS."

The pot rusted to dust, poking the embers he balanced a few orbs up.

"hm, thought they'd be bigger."

Chuckling to himself, he tossed the elixir into his mouth, flicking the cloak roughly onto his back as he sat on the throne. Why'd they put a throne in what appeared to be a church was beyond him, but it worked for a seat since the other pews.

Wood lay crushed, crumpled. He'd thrown the staff pretty hard, but it appears they'd thrown grenades and instead of throwing it at the man who's walking towards them. Threw it around him, which would've.

"... What was their plan? If I throw a grenade close to him, he'll get- spooked?"

The blades sparking as they sharpened, blood wasn't a good liquid. But with a little bit of controlled mana, it helps with strengthening the blade.

Closing the church, the man walked through the city streets. Clearly what he did had been heard, wearing a mask, cloak and not bothering with hiding his true form. A dog like shadow walked through the street, deathly pale face. Flickering between skull and pale skin, wings clearly folded like dough. Muscles strained in tension in holding the full weight of the wings behind him, large reptilian wings with black feathers, shadows draping past the man as he stepped onto the crashed shuttle. Metal melted on one side, he revved it's engine. "chronos." Time reversed, the man silent, face impassive as the ship moved backwards, a slight green glow as the ship reversed above the atmosphere.

And he was gone.

[companionwolf]

Excerpts from writing prose of STATION (bolded words represent hyperlinks to new passages) from the past 4 days; these are disjointed on purpose and thus not quite sequential.

[From June 30]

A minute adjustment in your attention and the bridge is the center of your primary visual input now.

It’s dark, save the glow of the red emergency lights. In the almost-pitch, you can see clearly out the large windows of the bridge, gaze into nothing. The screens on the walls are dead, all destroyed by weapons fire, and chairs lay haphazardly overturned at their stations. 

At the far front of the room is the entry to the comms center; when you split a thread of awareness to look there as well, you're greeted by the still form of the ship's comms officer, Emmett Minin.

[From July 1]

>Did something scare you? 

Minin gives the security camera a blank stare for a moment, and then his eyes widen as memory lights up his face. 

“It was-- there was gunfire outside, some kind of struggle, and then Beck just burst in here, pointed xer weapon at me,” he says. “Xe asked something about whether I was ‘the real Minin’ and when I didn't know what xe meant, xe turned and ran off.” 

[From July 2]

>Can you describe what attacked you?

Minin struggles for words. 

“I-- it was like I couldn't look right at it; like my eyes just slid off,” he says. "It's everything at once. It's nothing at all. It's something else."

[From July 3-- today]

“Minin, Beck and I have reason to believe whatever interacted with xer was something entirely unknown to humanity," you say. "It is with some confidence I suggest what attacked you was the same being and thus possibly alien.”

The comms officer, who's gotten up now and is rummaging around the room, pauses to give the security camera a look-- but it isn't a look of disdain, just fear. “You think so?”

“It is just a suggestion,” you say.

Minin finds what he's looking for, a handgun stowed away in a desk drawer; he holsters it and exhales.

“I'd feel better if I was with someone else,” he says aloud. A pause. “Not that you're not enough, just…”

“I understand.”

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hi !! 23 just speaks viktor (and or ekko!) to me, but only if you are interested in writing it ofc! don't burn yourself out <3

(Sure! I can do that, here ya go! Enjoy!)

Ekko and Viktor with S/o who works on gadgetry

EKKO

Ever since Ekko knew you, he was surprised when you had something knew

But not really surprised at the same time

Because whenever he would see you, you had a tool in your hand and a gadget in the other

Fixing something or making something you were on it

You also helped him when making stuff a lot too

The hoverboards?

Your design and he found the parts

You two were like parts in a machine

You needed to work together for it to work

But also at times you would work alone

Most of the time to be honest

Because you always had something knew

He loved when he would come to you after a long day and you would be giddy and show him something knew you made

He also loved to sit across from you as you went on and on about how you made it, down to finding the parts all the way to the final gears

Exhibit A:

Ekko sighed, holding his hoverboard and mask in each hand as he walked up the stairs up to your guys' room at the top of the tree.

'Why did I put it so high?' He cursed himself under his breath, he felt like going to sleep and never waking up.

The mission went rogue, Silco was expanding by the day and a newcomer decided to deviate from the plan and try and take out Sevika. Didn't end well.

He finally got to both your room, opening the door and immediately waking up as he saw your face. 

"Hey, babe!" You smiled, kissing him on his cheek, balancing a box on your free arm.

"Hey- what are you doing?" He asked, confused as you took his mask and hoverboard quickly. You set them aside on the bed, tossing them lightly as you grabbed his hand.

"Come! Come!" You smiled, dragging him over quickly to your desk. He almost tripped at how fast you pulled him.

"What's this?" He smiled, 7 up a gadget on the desk. It was quite small and had a small flash that went off every few seconds.

"Okay, so you know how some of us fall off our boards while on missions?" 

You quickly spoke, Ekko nodding as you took it from his hand. "Well, this is like a tracker to stick on the board and on yourself so the board can find you!"

"How?" He asked, sitting in the chair as you hopped on the desk.  "So first, you put it in maybe your holster and with the locater it sends out a wave that finds the tracker that matches." You explained, Ekko humming as an answer.

The more you talked your voice became more distant, Ekko staring at your face and the spark in your eye as you explained your creation.

He loved the spark in your eye, he was grateful he was the one seeing it.

VIKTOR

Viktor loved when you got in the small zone you went in when creating

He also loved that you likes to help him in the lab

He had known you ever since the Undercity

You both grew up together and Heimerdinger found you both at once

And you stuck together throughout your academy days

He liked when you would help in the lab

Your own small creations being mixed in with Hextech

Ever since he had known you, you always had some sort of tool in your hand and a device in the other

You often fell asleep like that

He sometimes worried about you being consumed in your work

Same case for you but with him

So you both help each other

He loved when you would sit with him in the lab

Both in silence, only sound would be the metal to your tools clinking together

He liked to think it represented the making of what held and started your relationship altogether

You first met him when young when you were working on a cane for him

You saw him around and thought it would be nice

Today was one of those lab days

You and Viktor sat in the lab, in silence as you sat on the desk. He sat in front of you, working on a blueprint for a Hextech design.

Or that's what you thought, in reality he was making a blueprint for a gift for you. Flowers that wouldn't wilt, like how his love for you would never wilt.

He often looked up at you, you sat on the desk with a tool in your hand and a small, remote looking device in your other hand.

He didn't know what it was but he loved your face when you were concentrating. Even if you didn't know you stuck your tongue out a little from the corner of your mouth. 

Your eyebrow also was a bit furrowed. Your hair fell slightly in your face.

You may not have noticed but he did and subconsciously, he gave a small chuckle. You looked up, surprised. 

"Hmm? What is it, Viktor?" You asked, curious. He shook his head. "No, nothing. Go back to your gadget." He smiled, you looked confused but shook your head and went back to it with a smile.

He went back to his own project, smiling as he listened to the soft clinking of metal from your tools. 

He loved these days.

[uraveragelonelyhuman]

Ekko and Viktor x Reader who is always tinkering

EKKO

Ever since Ekko knew you, he was surprised when you had something knew

But not really surprised at the same time

Because whenever he would see you, you had a tool in your hand and a gadget in the other

Fixing something or making something you were on it

You also helped him when making stuff a lot too

The hoverboards?

Your design and he found the parts

You two were like parts in a machine

You needed to work together for it to work

But also at times you would work alone

Most of the time to be honest

Because you always had something knew

He loved when he would come to you after a long day and you would be giddy and show him something knew you made

He also loved to sit across from you as you went on and on about how you made it, down to finding the parts all the way to the final gears

Exhibit A:

Ekko sighed, holding his hoverboard and mask in each hand as he walked up the stairs up to your guys' room at the top of the tree.

'Why did I put it so high?' He cursed himself under his breath, he felt like going to sleep and never waking up.

The mission went rogue, Silco was expanding by the day and a newcomer decided to deviate from the plan and try and take out Sevika. Didn't end well.

He finally got to both your room, opening the door and immediately waking up as he saw your face. 

"Hey, babe!" You smiled, kissing him on his cheek, balancing a box on your free arm.

"Hey- what are you doing?" He asked, confused as you took his mask and hoverboard quickly. You set them aside on the bed, tossing them lightly as you grabbed his hand.

"Come! Come!" You smiled, dragging him over quickly to your desk. He almost tripped at how fast you pulled him.

"What's this?" He smiled, 7 up a gadget on the desk. It was quite small and had a small flash that went off every few seconds.

"Okay, so you know how some of us fall off our boards while on missions?" 

You quickly spoke, Ekko nodding as you took it from his hand. "Well, this is like a tracker to stick on the board and on yourself so the board can find you!"

"How?" He asked, sitting in the chair as you hopped on the desk.  "So first, you put it in maybe your holster and with the locater it sends out a wave that finds the tracker that matches." You explained, Ekko humming as an answer.

The more you talked your voice became more distant, Ekko staring at your face and the spark in your eye as you explained your creation.

He loved the spark in your eye, he was grateful he was the one seeing it.

VIKTOR

Viktor loved when you got in the small zone you went in when creating

He also loved that you likes to help him in the lab

He had known you ever since the Undercity

You both grew up together and Heimerdinger found you both at once

And you stuck together throughout your academy days

He liked when you would help in the lab

Your own small creations being mixed in with Hextech

Ever since he had known you, you always had some sort of tool in your hand and a device in the other

You often fell asleep like that

He sometimes worried about you being consumed in your work

Same case for you but with him

So you both help each other

He loved when you would sit with him in the lab

Both in silence, only sound would be the metal to your tools clinking together

He liked to think it represented the making of what held and started your relationship altogether

You first met him when young when you were working on a cane for him

You saw him around and thought it would be nice

Today was one of those lab days

You and Viktor sat in the lab, in silence as you sat on the desk. He sat in front of you, working on a blueprint for a Hextech design.

Or that's what you thought, in reality he was making a blueprint for a gift for you. Flowers that wouldn't wilt, like how his love for you would never wilt.

He often looked up at you, you sat on the desk with a tool in your hand and a small, remote looking device in your other hand.

He didn't know what it was but he loved your face when you were concentrating. Even if you didn't know you stuck your tongue out a little from the corner of your mouth. 

Your eyebrow also was a bit furrowed. Your hair fell slightly in your face.

You may not have noticed but he did and subconsciously, he gave a small chuckle. You looked up, surprised. 

"Hmm? What is it, Viktor?" You asked, curious. He shook his head. "No, nothing. Go back to your gadget." He smiled, you looked confused but shook your head and went back to it with a smile.

He went back to his own project, smiling as he listened to the soft clinking of metal from your tools. 

He loved these days

[moonlit-imagines]

Preferences: seeing their s/o wear their merch

Avengers x reader

warnings: gun ment

a/n: heck yeah avengers time

prompt: @storiesbystarlight: “Hi Lacey! I would like to make an MCU preferences request, with the Original 6 + Sam Wilson and Carol Danvers. How would they react to seeing their S/O wearing their merch? Tony's S/O wearing an Iron Man shirt, for example. Hope that's okay!”

Bruce tried to hide his smirk, but you caught it quick. “What are you wearing?” He asked while walking closer to you. “You like it?” You gave him a nervous little smile and chuckled. “I think the big guy does.” Bruce joked and turned back around. “You like distracting me from my work, don’t you?” He shot back. “You love the distraction because it’s me.”

Carol thought it was awesome. “Are you serious? Where can I get one?!” She asked you while pulling you in for a big disorienting kiss. “You want to get your own merch?” You giggled at her enthusiasm. “Well, yeah! Then we can match!”

Clint was just surprised he had any merch, to be honest. He doesn’t really get much recognition, so he just stared at what you were wearing. “Notice anything?” You looked at him funny and waited for a response. “They actually have Hawkeye merch? You’re kidding me.” He commented and you pulled another shirt out. “Yep. And I got you one, too.”

Natasha thinks it looks cheap. But she also thinks it’s super cute that you would choose to casually represent her. “Wouldn’t you rather wear some authentic Black Widow accessories?” She suggested while pulling out holsters, guns, belts, leather, and more.

Sam thought it was awesome. It was the fact that he had merch out there and there were people appreciating what he does, and that you were wearing it. For him. “Hey, good looking.” He commented, pulling you in for a kiss. “Dress up for me?” You spun around and revealed a little set of wings on the back of your hoodie. “You like?”

Steve shook his head with a big smile. “You’re telling me you saw this in a store and decided, ‘Hey, you know what my boyfriend, Captain America, would love?’” He played the scene out for you. “Yes, that’s exactly how it went.” You confirmed and he kissed you on the forehead. “You should try on the suit next.”

Thor thought it was hilarious. Midgard sold clothes and nicknacks with him on them. You would never see that in Asgard. “Where do you think I could get one of these?” He asked just before you revealed the shopping bag you were holding behind your back. “Right here.” You told him and his face lit up. “Yes, thank you! We should go out tonight in our new attire!”

Tony wasn’t surprised because what you were wearing was just something you pulled out of his closet. He wears his own merch. All he says is, “Hey, that’s mine! Oh, whatever, I have three more just like it.” And goes about his business before running back up to you and giving you a big kiss on the lips. “And it suits you. Because my suits suit me.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @frostedficrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @brutal-out-here // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovygirlie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @dindjarinsspouse // @werewolf-himbo // @lost-fantasy // @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom // @summersimmerus // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @augustvandyne // @buckyeojin // @the-did-i-ask // @glxwingrxse //

[barbex]

ok this is the weirdest shit. I know there was an ask in my inbox with a prompt by @biblioteknician. I KNOW it was there because I COPIED it into my document. And now that ask is gone and when I tried to reload the inbox, tumblr logged me out.

There's some weird tumblr gremlins at work here.

Anyway, I know you prompted me, @biblioteknician, I saved the important part to my DADWC g-doc. So, here it is.

For @dadrunkwriting, Varric x Hawke, written to the prompt of "a story about a bar fight in the Hanged Man":

---

Varric has once wondered why the Hanged Man has no windows at eye level, only far up under the roof's edge. And then he sees Hawke throw some burly idiot across the room, smashing him into the wall, and it all makes sense again. Her and Isabela have things well under control, so he stands back and watches for anybody who doesn't understand the rules of this game. There's always someone who pulls a knife, not knowing that he broke the rules.

His keen eyes know what to look for and there, there he is. A rather haggard looking guy, not the kind who can hold his own in a fistfight against Hawke and Isabela and he knows it. That's why he sneaks up on the ladies from behind, pulling a knife out of his belt. Varric aims his crossbow, waiting for the right moment, when Isabela whips around and whirls her dagger. The guy screams, his knife falls to the floor and then something else drops, and the fight is over. 

Some drunkard stumbles against Hawke, his momentum too strong for him to stop himself, but she steps out of the way and gives him a shove so that he falls on a bench.

Scream-guy pleads his case of: "She cut off my finger!" but the Hanged Man's loyal customers are not on his side.

Norah scolds him as she makes him wipe the blood from the floor himself. "Shouldn't have come at Isabela with a knife."

"Right!" the drunkard yells from the bench. "Don't bring a knife to a bar fight here." With that important declaration, he falls back and starts to snore.

Varric puts Bianca back in her holster on his back and strolls over to where Hawke is sitting, taking a gulp from her ale. She smiles over the rim of her mug when she sees him. It does something funny to Varric's stomach.

"There you are," she says, patting the chair beside her for him to sit. "Did you enjoy the show?" 

"Of course." Varric sits down on the chair and takes a sip of not so bad ale. 

Hawke leans closer, her breath tickling against his ear. "Did you watch over me and Isa, to make sure nothing happens to us?" 

"You know I did." He looks up at her, the wild glimmer in her eyes, her hair sticking out from her head ever which way, the wild freedom she represents with every part of herself. She smells of sweat and dust and blood and ale, and she's the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on.

"Will you write about it in your book?" She leans even closer, her nose brushing against his ear. "The fallen noble woman and the land-bound pirate, fighting for coins at the Hanged Man?"

Varric swallows, fighting for composure. "That depends, how much did you win?"

He can feel Hawke grin against his ear. "A shitload."

"Ah, that's a good story, then." 

"You know what else is a good story?" Hawke takes his hand and pulls him off the chair. "If the secret admirer, who protected his lady from afar, takes her to his room to take advantage of her immense gratefulness."

Varric grins at her and lets her drag him up the stairs and into his suite. "You think that's a good story?"

Hawke kicks the door closed behind her and goes down on one knee. She slides a hand behind Varric's neck and pulls him close, brushing her lips against his. "Yes, a fantastic story."

Varric leans closer and kisses her, like he has done so many times. And each time is as amazing as the kiss before, and what comes after is even better.

It's a fantastic story, sure, but it won't go into the book.

[echos-newlegs]

Do you think you could do a fluff of prompt 1,2 and 88 with Rex x f!bountyhunter!reader, where the reader quite often helps the clones during missions and the two have developed feelings for eachother but always thought the other didn't feel the same. But during a mission only the two of them had been sent on they start to realize it wasn't quite as one-sided as they though. Would make my heart go brrr 🥺 👉👈

Warnings: None, just pure fluff. I also didn't reread it, so I hope that it makes sense

Rex x F!Bounty hunter!reader: tiny hands in big hands, lips barely touching, “It’s you, it always has been.”

He was sure that you didn’t like him. Yes, the two of you bantered, maybe even flirted among one another here and there. But that was just you. You were a bounty hunter, and it seemed like every bounty hunter that he met was playful and flirtatious in their own weird sorts of ways. Even if he hoped that it was something different. 

Rex was assigned another mission with you working by his side. He was sure that General Skywalker was doing this to him on purpose. He had told Rex to make a move many of times, but he could never seem to bring himself to do it. Sure that if he didn’t get in trouble by the GAR. Then you would hate him and never want to speak with him again. Even if it did work out. How would the two of you peruse a relationship in secret? He’s watched plenty of his brothers do it, but he himself? A captain of the 501st, with a reputation to keep up? It would be far too dangerous. Even if he General was insisting he try and ‘live his life.’

You stood before him now, thumb hooked to your own gun holster. Adjusting the goggles on your face that were specially modified to help you in flight and help sense thermal energy. Plus night vision, something that came in handy for you quite a bit. 

Rex looked up to you with a smile. Straightening his posture as a sign of respect. Something that made you chuckle. Rolling your eyes with a grin. “At ease, soldier.” You touched his shoulder, allowing your touch to linger just a bit. Watching his eyes on you. They were always on you. And you always seemed to notice it, even if you thought it was purely innocent. You always hoped that it could be something more. 

“Right,” He cleared his throat, relaxing himself. Though he still stood tall. Always keeping his guard, never letting it down. Even if he trusted you with his life, you never knew what would happen. Especially on Mandalore, where the two of you were currently based at. 

You were asked to accompany the soldier, told that you would be in for a reward if you helped him and his squad with the mission that they had. You were hesitant at first. You had a reputation to keep, plus bad history with the people of Mandalore. 

“Do you remember why I hate it here?” You asked the captain that was looking around with the same amount of unease. 

“How could I forget? You may have only told me once, but I remember. They took you away from your home and your family. Banishing you from here when you refused to follow their orders.” It was a brief explanation, but you could tell he understood. And oh boy, did he. He respected you so much for rebelling against the Mandalorians. Giving up your oaths and your life work to be a person of your own. To start your own clan away from here when you started disagreeing with their way of law. The fact that you could even still accompany on the planet was astounding, but he would be sure they wouldn’t so much as lay a finger on you. 

You got rid of all of the beskar armor that you owned. Melting it down to shape the new armor that you wore. With the colors that represented you. Colors that told everyone your story. That not only did you lose your family and your mentors, but you were no longer a Mandalorian. You were just you, a bounty hunter that hopped place from place in the abyss of space. 

“Captain, they would like to see us,” Jesse chimed in. Interrupting the silence that was enveloping the two of you. Not that it bothered either of you. You were both too lost in your thoughts to really care. 

“Alright, thank you, Jesse.” Rex told his Arc-Trooper with a nod of understanding. Signifying that the two of you would accompany him in a moment. That he needed time prepping you for what was about to come. 

The two of you were soon accompanying a man in armor. One of Satines guards that was leading the two of you right to here. The Dutchess that you needed to talk to right now. Even if you didn't care for here or he sister.

"What do you think she'll say about me, I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion." You told Rex with a side smile. The Captain chuckling a bit before glancing over to you. "Well, if it means anything, I think you always look lovely."

His words touched you deeply, and even caught you a little off guard. Chewing on the inside of your face to fight back the smile that was threatening to peak through.

"What a face to see in these trying times," You didn't miss her voice. Looking up to her through your brow. Head slightly bowed.

"Satine," Your voice was sour. Rex growing too aware of the tension that seemed to be consuming the room.

"Duchess Satine. General Skywalker sent my men and I here with here to help you with your issues with Death Watch. General Skywalker couldn't make it himself, but General Ahsoka Tano is here with us. She is finishing up some business with some of the people that witnessed the further attacks." He spoke, watching as the Captain told her this information so effortlessly. As if he practiced it for months before today. "I was told to bring the bounty hunter here," He said your name, looking over to you, then back to Satine. "So you could tell them any intel that way we can be on our way with our mission."

Satine looked the two of you over again. Stepping down from her throne that you so badly wanted to watch burn in front of her.

"Captain, I thought they told you it wasn't deathwatch?" Rex raised a quizzical brow. Puffing his chest out the closer she got to him. Your eyes staying on her with a look of unease when she looked you up and down.

"We found a spy, it was a Separtist, not a traitor." She spat, mostly towards you, and you knew it. Clenching your jaw to fight back any words that you wanted to fire back at her. Rex only nodded.

"I understand," He spoke, opening his mouth to continue, but Ahsoka carried on for him. Putting her hand on both of your shoulders in a calming manor. " Do you have any idea of what they may be here for?" Ahsoka asked, a small sigh of relief falling from both yours and Rex's lips as the Togrutas appearance.

-------

"Look, you can't let her get to you." Ahsoka told you as she led you and her men to the area where Duchess Satine informed you all the base might be. Or where they assumed it was, at least.

"How can't I, Ahsoka? She hates me!" Ahsoka laughed, patting your shoulder. "And? So what if she does! I didn't think that would change a bounty hunter like you's opinion. Besides. Rex seems to like you, that should make up for it, shouldn't it?" Your brain halted. Trying to process what she just told you. "As a friend," You told her, and she smirked, shrugging. "Maybe."

You wanted to ask her more questions. See what else she knew. Maybe Rex told her something! Maybe he did like you.. As more than a friend, but of course. War had to snap you from your thought when you heard the sound of gun fire. The thought would inevitably have to wait. Or be lost in the back of your mind, like the rest of your simple-life-ideas.

"Rex, y/n, take the back! The rest of us will fight these droids off and distract them! You have to get inside and destroy the control panels to deactivate the shields!" Ahsoka shouted, you nodding your head. Rex giving a quick 'yes sir!' before running off after you.

You pulled your blaster out as you turned the corner. Firing at some of the droids that were approaching you and Rex. Rex shooting one that you seemed to have missed.

"Getting a bit rusty there, Cyare." He teased, to which you snapped your eyes over to him. Smirking at his teasing and the simple endearment. Shoving him out of the way to behind a wall, taking cover from some of the incoming blaster fires.

"Don't make fun of me, di'kut. You're the one forgetting I speak Mando'a." You commented, watching his eyes widen and his mouth fall open, as if to fight for an explanation, but neither of you had the time for that.

The two of you ran around, fighting to keep your heads on your shoulders. It seemed like it took longer than necessary to deactivate the control panel. Ashoka and the rest of the crew able to disassemble what was left of the droid army. Along with nearly capturing Grievous who was stowed away inside of the base. Though, he made his escape.. As per usual.

"I still don't understand what they were doing here," Ahsoka told you with a frown. Biting her bottom lip as she looked over the droids that all lay on the ground now. No signs or clues anywhere.

"It's hard telling, we did a good job today, sir. No men were lost, nor were any civilians harmed." Kix chimed in with a nod. Smiling to the General under his helmet.

"Thank you, Kix."

You let Ahsoka get back to arranging her troops. Along with heading back to the palace to let Satine in on everything that happened. You were able to leave now, but you had too many things still on your mind. Sure, this was no longer your home, but it ate at you that it was being attacked. You weren't even sure why you were brought here in the first place. Sure it had something to do with General Skywalker wanting you to join him and the GAR. Fighting for the 'Greater Cause.' This wasn't your war though, and it never would be. You were simply and outsider that didn't belong here anymore.

Rex was glad he trusted the voice in his head. Telling him that you were probably trying to leave as soon as you could, instead of checking to see if you were still with Ahsoka. He spotted you, lost in thought, heading for the ramp of your ship. An ache in his heart that the two of you would have to part ways yet again. Just like every mission he had with you. None of them ever lasted, but he wanted them to.

'Go tell her how you feel,' Is what Master Skywalker would be saying right now, and you know what? He would do just that. It might be the fact that Anakin had rubbed off on the clone, or just the fact that he was sick of following the common orders. That he wanted a life of his own someday when the war was over. But whatever it was, it had him nearly sprinting to you. Reaching out to stop you from boarding your ship and leaving.

When someone caught you by the wrist you couldn't help but jump and turn. Blaster in your free hand, pointing it right at the blond that held you with purpose. When you realized who it was you dropped your weapon, letting out a deep exhale. Rolling your eyes.

"You scared me, lucky I didn't shoot ya," You teased, causing you both to chuckle.

"You were going to leave without saying good-bye?" He asked, stepping closer to you. His hand on your wrist lowering to grab your hand with his. Glancing down to take note of how much bigger his hand was than yours. The way it enveloped yours. It had a shiver running down your spine. Looking back up to him with a brow raised.

"Well, I figured you would be busy. You're a busy man, I presume." He snickered, running his gloved thumb over the back of your hand. Wishing his hands were bare so he could feel the contact of your skin on his. How much more smooth and soft they were compared to his own. It had his breath hitching, though it came unnoticed.

"I'm never too busy for you," He told you. The two of you were so close. You were sure this was the closest the two of you had ever been in your lives. Besides in battle, when the two of you were shoved into one another. This was different, though. Something more intimate and meaningful was coming from this interactment, and you weren't sure what it was. If it was his hand holding yours, the lowered voices, or just the overall closeness of the two of you. It was something you wanted to interact with more, though.

You raised your free hand to rest on his chest. Right above where his heart would be. The Captain not breaking eye contact with you even for a second.

"Is that so, Rex?" You asked, tapping your fingers on his armor.

"Does this mean I'm special, or something?" You snorted with a grin. Rex barely changing his expression from the serious one that he held on his features.

"Yes, very special, I suppose." You gulped, noticing his eyes dart down to your lips, then back to your eyes.

"Look, I know, this might not work out, but I want you by my side, Cyar'ika." You felt your heart rate increase. You could almost hear your blood rushing through your veins. It was almost intoxicating. Removing his hand from your own to bring it up to cup your face.

"So last time we spoke, when you talked about the girl you wanted to kiss," You asked, remembering the encounter. The two of you were at 79's when you were both in Coroscaunt. You made a joke about Rex being able to have any girl he wanted. Even if you hoped and prayed that girl would be you. He told you that 'I only dream of kissing one girl, but I can't tell you who it is yet, not until I know it's safe.'

"It's you," He smiled softly. Leaning in closer. His lips were ghosting against yours now. All he could smell was you, and it had his mind spinning. He was sure this was all he would think about for the rest of his life.

"It's always been you." He finished. Leaning in to lock his lips with yours.

Both of his hands were holding the sides of your face now. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You felt so light and airy. Sure if you let go of him you would start floating away and never come down.

When he pulled back the two of you were still in a daze. Rex's thumbs smoothing over your cheeks. "I've wanted to do that for so long," You murmured, both of you smiling now. "Oh, really?" He asked, and you nodded. Pulling him back in for a feverish kiss. Rex's arms snapping to your waist as if he were holding onto you for dear life.

This was the start of something new. Something that was considered forbidden, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. It all felt so wonderful.. So right. Something you wouldn't allow anyone to take from you, and neither would he.

Tag List: @spaceydragons @sageislostinspring Just ask to be added!

[mysticalgalaxysstuff]

👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃

What do you HC was the first couple costume Ethan & Marissa wore and how many Halloweens did it take to convince Ethan to wear one?

If they have to choose, which one would be their favorite costume they have worn?

What’s the most ridiculous costume Ethan has worn just because his kid asked him to?

🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡

OMG thank you so much, anon for sending this and indulging me! I had so much fun, I might have got a little carried away lol 😁

What do you HC was the first couple costume Ethan & Marissa wore and how many Halloweens did it take to convince Ethan to wear one?

It was this year 2022, the year they got married. Earlier, Marissa used to go individually so she didn't opt for anything that involved couple costume theme, but this year she went as a Zombie Bride and Ethan wasn't going to let her go alone, after all he is her groom. Marissa convinced him without asking him to go with her lol 🤭

This is how the conversation went between them.

"I'm thinking of going as a Zombie Bride, what do you think?" Marissa asked.

"Mmm," Ethan hums, half of his attention deviated towards the journal he's reading, but still listening "Isn't it something people do as a pair?" He questions.

"You're right. It would seem weird going alone. I could always go with Rafael. I can convi--"

"I'm there." Ethan interjects.

"What was that?" Marissa feins innocence.

"I'm your husband. It seems fitting that I go with you."

A devilish smirk appears on her face, "Oh Ethan, you don't have-"

"No, I want to." He says with a mischievous smile on his face, knowing very well that his wife is pulling his leg.

Since my MC's faceclaim dressed as one, I'm sharing her photo!

If they have to choose, which one would be their favorite costume they have worn?

Definitely when they dressed as Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

Marissa has a thing for man dressed for classy affairs like in suit, with first two shirt buttons undone and when it's Ethan involved... oh boy 🥵🥵🥵 And Marissa having a gun holster strapped to her thigh and also the dress with a high leg slit... It was heaven for Ethan 😌💖

What’s the most ridiculous costume Ethan has worn just because his kid asked him to?

Definitely when Nathaniel was so obsessed with animals and to categorise them into carnivores and herbivores. He himself dressed as a bear, asked her mother to dress as a Tigress to represent carnivores. And to represent herbivores, Aria was a Rabbit and Ethan was a... Giraffe lol.🤣

[stagefoureddiediaz]

hi nonnie! First of all, hail to the costume meta queen. You kill it every single time and i adore you and you’re metas! Actually on the edge of my seat for the upcoming one! Secondly, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT EPISODE like buck, couches, buddie of it all SCREAMING! I just rememebered that taylor said to buck that he already has meaningful relationships in his life and now we’re comparing buck’s relationships with couches and he picked the one couch he already got ( yeah i know that means that’s he is choosing himself, to be single and i’m so proud) but the possible implication that that single sofa represents eddie also while wearing the stripped shirt ( i mean we all remember buck carrying eddie). Third of all, i’ve been meaning to talk to you about eddie and his well idk how you call it but the thing around his shoulder where he carries his mic when he ‘s working (radio harness i suppose). Well since i noticed thanks to you that clothes are really important part of the storytelling i wanted to ask you do you have any thoughts about it. Because ever since ana has been introduced eddie always wears it on the opposite side. But before her he has always worn it same as buck. Sorry for my english, i hope you understood. Can’t wait for the meta and you’re thoughts❤️

Hey Nonnie!

Awwww thank you so much - I hope you did enjoy the second one and I'm sorry I didn't get to this sooner - life has been a bit crazy and I haven't had time to go through my inbox until now!

I'm still not over that episode to be honest - CHOICES were very definitely made and I am very appreciative of them!!!

As for Eddie and his radio holster and strap - the change from left shoulder to right shoulder happens at the beginning of season 3 - post Shannons death and also Buck being crushed by the ladder truck. I'd need to go through and check who wears it on what side at what point. Not something I included in my costume plots for each character so I don't have the information to hand, but once I've finished them (on season 5 now so hopefully it'll be done soon!), I'll go back through and add this information in so I can form a better idea of if there is anything to be read into it. Because I don't know if anyone else changes the side they wear it on, or if its just Eddie - leave it with me and I'll see what I figure out (it'll probably be in the mid season hiatus, but feel free to come back and remind me in case I forget!)

And Nonnie your English is wonderful so don't worry - I understand you perfectly!