#about each other…..there’s a war and other people to protect and a brief romance they had is not the most important thing to them

[manytoonepoet]

Whenever I listen to a song, a few lines tend to stand out to me, and Hala CG's "Gambler" was no exception, with those lines being: "But they don't see the hand clutching on for dear life. They don't see the man as he tries, and he tries to stand tall." — with those lines being a brief yet concise summarization of how we view characters and the people around us.

Example, number one example, is the man of the song himself, Aventurine. I've already talked about this in detail in this post of mine, which I made a while back, and I highly recommend checking it out if you wish to know more, but I'll summarize it here: The way the majority of people view Aventurine is simply disgusting; they only ever care about who he is gay for or what is in his pants, and while shipping and having your own interpretations about a character is absolutely alright, oversimplifying and forcing one's headcannons compromises the true essence of the character — you might as well create a new character of your own with how many changes you've made to this one as you claim that they are this or that, and more often that not, these unnecessary and unwanted changes disrespect the original intent of the source material. A lot of these people forget, or simply choose to ignore, what Aventurine has gone through and mold him to their headcannons and push those headcannons down people's throats because they despise the fact that not everyone sees Aventurine as a submissive, masochistic, gae man for Dr. Ratio and instead enjoy and learn about a character instead of focusing on who's gae for whom and who's not. They despise the fact that people see and admire Aventurine for his resilience, his perseverance, his bravery, his intelligence, his thought process, and his strategy — they acknowledge and admire all that and more, and it is such a shame that too many people don't.

But Miss Poet, I hear you say, if you've already talked about this, then why bring it back again? Can't you just let it go? It's done! Well, Rat Urine is back just in a different outfit → Phaidei.

Again, I will restate it just in case you missed it: Shipping, having headcannons, and having your own interpretations about a character is absolutely alright so long as it doesn't compromise the true essence of a character.

But me, personally, I dislike the notion of shipping in HSR mainly because I believe romance could potentially kill or somewhat lessen the impact of their main story theme of trailblazing. This group of people is made up of the lost, the broken, and the hurt, yet even as they wander amongst the stars, they're never alone because they have the people that they have formed bonds with along the way, and more people to encounter in the future. HSR's journey is that—a journey, one that is symbolic of real life, funnily enough. Because in real life, we love (or at least are supposed to). We love and we uphold hope and we create relationships with that love and hope, relationships that aren't inherently romantic. In fact, I'm quite proud of Hoyo for giving Mydei and Phainon such a deep and emotional bond because what I personally see in media usually involves strong female friendships rather than male ones, and I believe we need more of this kind of friendship and brotherhood as well.

And I believe THAT is what's heartwarming about Amphoreus' story — this group of people is brought together by loss and pain and war and death, and all of that made them appreciate the bond and camaraderie present within their little group. They understand that they will reach their doom soon, sooner than they might think, even. But even then, they still took the time to bond and grow closer to each other instead of shutting everyone out because, at the end of the day, they only have each other, don't they? They only have each other to rely on, and they're the only hope Amphoreus has left. If they crumble and fall apart, what will be of Amphoreus? They are the soldiers sent to the frontlines to protect the innocent and secure even the slightest bit of hope that there will be a future for everyone else, even if they won't be there to see it. In fact, speaking of soldiers, they often form exceptionally close bonds due to the unique and intense circumstances they share. The combination of high-stakes missions, reliance on one another for survival, and extended time together in challenging environments fosters deep trust and camaraderie. Shared experiences—like training, combat, or long deployments—create a sense of brotherhood or sisterhood that can surpass typical friendships. However, the strength of these bonds varies based on individual personalities, unit dynamics, and the intensity of shared experiences. Some soldiers may not form close friendships due to personal differences or shorter service periods, but for many, these relationships become profound and enduring.

Take this post however you want to, call me names, slurs, throw insults my way, but I simply wish to provide another perspective and to bring something new to the table because when I see Mydei and Phainon together, I don't wonder about who is top or who is bottom, I don't wonder about what positions they prefer or what places they enjoy doing it. Because when I see Phainon and Mydei, I see the bond eloquently described by the lovely people in the pictures on top, I see the bond I wish to grow and nurture with my own best friend too.

And no, I'm not criticizing anyone for liking this ship, I'm not acting nor do I see myself as someone above the rest of you, but I simply wish the fandom wasn't so quick to label them as gay or have their entire character be oversimplified as someone's gae submissive malewife or someone's dominant daddy... HSR has such an emotional and nuanced storytelling, one that talks about these kinds of relationships so well, and I just wish the fandom could appreciate it as it is, rather than twist it into something that it is not.

Because, yes, a lot of people here don't see the hand clutching on for dear life. They don't see the man as he tries, and he tries to stand tall.

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘈𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 - 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘕𝘪𝘯𝘦

Pairing: Mohawk!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: One brief allusion to domestic abuse

Genres: Fluff, hurt/comfort, romance

Word Count: 2,643

Synopsis: You’ve been in a relationship with Sinister!Mark for years, coming with him from his original universe into the main timeline along with all the other variants. Since coming to this universe however the dynamics of your relationship have changed, Sinister!Mark becoming more distant and cruel, not showing you any form of affection or appreciation outside of rough sex. Mohawk!Mark was in love with the you from his own universe, but in his timeline you died as a casualty of war (a similar fate to the you from the main timeline). Now that he sees you again in this new, main universe he’s captured by you but also unsure of how to handle things since you are with Sinister. After catching Sinister with two other women, you call Mohawk Mark for some form of comfort. The comfort turned to sex, Sinister Mark finds you two the next morning & a fight ensued. The brawl was broken up by a few other Mark’s, but Reader was hurt in the process.

a/n: I DID IT – i finally finished this gaht dayum chapter T-T and thank the lort i have an idea in mind for how to end it in the next part. we doin’ the damn thing people!!!

→ Part Eight ←

The night had swallowed the city whole, streets empty and silent under the weight of the moon. M.Mark flew swiftly above the roads, a knot growing tighter in his stomach with each hospital he passed—each one you weren’t in only worsening his anxiety. He could feel the gnawing urgency, the fear of what might happen if he didn’t reach you soon. His mind was a whirlwind, his thoughts tangled between his need to protect you and the memories of that afternoon’s chaos—the fight, the rage, Sinister’s madness. All of it felt like a violent blur, but what cut through it was the thought of you, alone and vulnerable.

He had to get to you.

By the time he reached the last hospital on his list, his patience had worn thin. His knuckles were white from how tightly they were balled at his sides, but he forced himself to steady his breath before stepping into the lobby. He checked in as a visitor, movements swift and deliberate, no wasted time. He was dressed down into casual clothes, not wanting to arouse any unjust suspicion. He could feel the pressure building, like he was about to shatter, but the thought of you kept him grounded.

He’d spent the better half of the day in confinement at a GDA prison, held for seemingly endless hours of interrogation and observation. He, along with S.Mark, were told they’d be kept under lockdown until they both regained some composure. Sinister raged for hours, a storm that never seemed to end, while M.Mark had forced himself to silence the chaos inside his mind. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions rule—not when you were out there.

A man of his word, Cecil had finally allowed M.Mark to leave, eliciting an immediate violent reaction from Sinister. The last thing M.Mark heard as he stepped out the door were raging, cussing rants from his counterpart about how he was going to get him, and how he’d kill that bitch for what she did.

A flare of fury shot through Mark, but he kept it buried. Sinister’s threats meant nothing. Not in that moment. M.Mark had one mission, and it was to get to you before Sinister could.

—

Your hospital room was at the far end of a quiet hallway. The door was cracked open just enough to let a sliver of soft light spill onto the floor. Mark stood there for a moment, watching you from the threshold. You were asleep, your face soft and serene. For a brief second, everything felt still—like time had paused and you were momentarily freed from the weight of everything that had come before.

It was almost haunting, the way you looked. So beautifully soft and fragile. Of course S.Mark wouldn’t be able to let you go – life events might have turned him into a piece of shit, but he still shared the same DNA as him. And every molecule of Mark’s body called out for you. He knew then, that even if he’d never admit it, Sinister’s body did the same.

Mark stepped fully into the room, the soft click of the door closing behind him almost inaudible. Slowly, almost reverently, he pulled a chair up beside your bed. His fingers brushed against the cool surface of your hand, and the simple contact grounded him in a way he didn’t expect.

The only sounds to be heard was the subtle rhythm of your breath and the hum of the hospital outside your door. Marks eyes lingered on you as you slept, his fingers gently tracing over your skin. As he studied you, little details he hadn't noticed before came into focus—the soft freckles sprinkled across the bridge of your nose, the way your hair curled at the edges when it fell just right. He’d never really looked at them before, but now, they were all he could see.

His gaze shifted, moving across your visible skin and for a brief moment his eyes caught on a small scar just above your collarbone. A faint mark that he couldn’t remember the you from his universe ever having. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. He wondered, for a fleeting second, how it happened. He thought about the possibility—how it could have come from an accident, a careless moment, or something darker. But before he could dwell on it, before the thoughts could spiral, he pushed them away.

He didn’t want to think of that.

Instead, he let his focus shift back to you. He found his mind tumbling back to the night before. He couldn’t help but remember it—remember you—the way you had kissed him, slow and soft, as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the warmth between you. His thoughts fixated on the feeling of your lips, the tenderness there that made him feel like he was holding something delicate. The softness of your kiss was still vivid in his mind, a sensation he could almost taste.

He wanted to hold onto the way you made him feel—like he mattered, like he was more than just the violence that ran through his veins. With you, he didn’t have to hide.

As he watched you sleep, his heart felt a weight he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the peace between you, but the fear that it might slip away. That Sinister might take this from him. But he didn’t want to think about that now. Not with you so close, so perfect in your vulnerability.

For now, he would let the warmth of your presence be enough. He envisioned your smile; that easy, bright curve of your lips that lit up any room and made everything feel right. He envisioned your eyes, and the way they always seemed to hold a little bit of mystery—something he could never quite understand but always wanted to know more about. He envisioned your hair, and how it framed your face, wild and soft all at once, always moving as if it had a mind of its own.

All of these thoughts allowed for a brief respite—a moment he clung to with everything he had.

Lost in his own reverie, Mark didn’t notice when your eyes fluttered open. The first thing you saw was him, sitting by your bedside, fingers resting lightly on the edge of your hand. The soft light filtering through the curtains created an almost dreamlike atmosphere.

“Hey…” you murmured, your voice soft and hoarse from the ordeal. It took you a second to fully adjust, but then you managed a small, drowsy smile. “What time is it?”

Mark jumped slightly at the sound of your voice, but then smiled gently, the warmth in his expression undeniable. "It’s still early," he said, his voice low and comforting. "You’ve been asleep for a while."

You stretched slightly, testing the weight of your body and the bruises still aching beneath your skin. But there was something in Mark’s gaze—something intense but also tender—that made you forget about the pain, just for a moment.

“How long have you been here?” you asked, lifting your hand slightly to meet his, your fingers grazing against his skin.

“Since around midnight,” Mark muttered, his voice almost shy. He looked down at your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if memorizing the sensation. “I wish I could’ve gotten here sooner...”

You let out a quiet sigh, trying to ignore the heaviness that came with the thought of S.Mark. The whole situation felt like a cloud hanging over you, but Mark’s presence gave some small semblance of comfort.

He hesitated before continuing, his voice quieter now. “You’re so... strong, you know that?” He paused, looking you over carefully, as if trying to gauge how you were feeling. “You took a hit from a Viltrumite. I... I don’t know how you did it, but you did. You’re amazing.”

A small chuckle escaped you, a faint flush creeping up your neck. “It’s not that impressive," you replied, offering a weak shrug. “I’ve taken worse from him...”

Mark blinked at that, his brow furrowing slightly as if processing what you just said. Then he shook his head, that same look of awe in his eyes. “Still... most people wouldn’t even survive a hit like that, let alone get back up. But you... you just keep going.” He leaned forward a little, his voice soft but full of reverence. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You met his eyes, the tenderness looking out of place on his face. “I’m just... stubborn,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, but it felt like the most honest answer you could give him. “What about Sinister?” you continued quietly, your mind flicking to the confrontation that had ended in chaos.

Mark’s expression tightened for a moment, and he leaned forward, lowering his voice. “He’s being held by the GDA right now. But even if they let him go... I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me, I promise.” He reached over and gently took your hand, holding it between both of his. “No matter what, I’ll keep you safe.”

You could feel his sincerity, and for a moment, the weight of everything else seemed to lift. You gave him a small, tired smile. “Thank you, Mark. I… I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Before Mark could respond, the door to your room creaked open, and you glanced up to see the other version of Mark—the one from this universe. He hesitated in the doorway, standing there for a moment as if unsure of how to proceed. His eyes flicked between you and M.Mark, and you could practically feel the tension in the room.

"You’re awake. I uh..." he began, clearing his throat, "I just wanted to check on you."

It was strange, seeing him here—especially with M.Mark sitting right beside you. The two of them had a complicated history, and it seemed that neither one quite knew how to handle the situation. But you could tell that the main timeline Mark was trying, at least.

You gave him a smile, trying to ease the awkwardness. “Come in,” you said, shifting slightly in bed. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way, for everything that happened yesterday...”

M.U. Mark’s eyes softened, and he stepped into the room, standing near the foot of the bed. His eyes darted over to M.Mark for a split second, and then back to you. He cleared his throat again, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, of course. Just doing what needed to be done.”

You gave him a small smile, silently acknowledging the way he’d stepped in when things had gotten out of hand. He wasn’t perfect, but he did what he had to do. And that counted for something.

“I spoke with Cecil,” M.U. Mark continued, his voice steadier now as he addressed you directly. “Sinister is going to be on a tight leash for a while. I just… didn’t want you worried about him right now.”

You felt a small sigh of relief, but your thoughts were interrupted when M.U. Mark glanced over at M.Mark again, and this time, there was something unspoken between them—an understanding, maybe. M.U. Mark’s lips curved into a brief, small smile.

“And with him here,” he said, nodding toward M.Mark, “I think you’re in solid company.”

M.Mark let out a snort of air from his nose, the rougher edge of his personality making its appearance. M.U. Mark seemed a bit amused, but didn’t push it further. “Anyways I really was just stopping by. Glad to see you’re doing better, y/n.” He gave a reassuring pat to your foot which was tucked under the thin white hospital blanket. “I’ll see you around.”

"Thanks," you said softly. As he turned to leave he hesitated, but let his hand fall onto his counterparts shoulder.

“You should probably get some sleep, dude. You look exhausted.” M.Mark shot him an annoyed glare, but M.U. Mark just shrugged and headed for the exit. He gave one last look at the two of you, offering a quiet, “Take care,” before closing the door behind him with a soft click.

The room was suddenly quieter, more peaceful, and as the tension from the conversation ebbed away, you met Mark’s gaze with a light-hearted smirk. “Y’know he’s right,” you chided. “You look like you haven’t slept in like, a week.” Mark seemed a bit flustered at first, but that quickly melted away as he joined you in your troublemaker expression.

“Maybe I haven’t... Got any room in that bed for me?” You happily obliged, scooting to make a little space. He climbed in beside you, the mattress sinking as his weight settled next to you. For a moment, he seemed a little uncertain, as though still trying to gauge how comfortable this was going to be, but as he eased down he let out a long, contented sigh.

His arm slipped around your shoulders naturally, pulling you close. You let yourself relax into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The way he held you was effortless, his touch light but anchoring, like he was reassuring himself that you were there, that this was real.

For a few moments, you both just lay there in the quiet, the steady sound of his breathing a comfort. You focused on the gentle weight of his arm around you, on the way his fingers lightly brushed against your skin as he subconsciously traced patterns of nothingness. The closeness felt so... right.

As you settled into the rhythm of his breathing, you realized he was already growing quieter, his body growing heavier against yours. His hand moved from your arm to your hair, fingers softly threading through the strands. You felt him relax even more, his body going still as the gentle warmth of his touch continued to soothe you.

Before long, the evenness of his breath told you what you already knew: he had fallen asleep. His head rested lightly on the pillow, his grip around you loosening just enough to let you breathe freely but still keeping you close.

You smiled softly, watching him for a moment. There was something so endearing about the way he looked in this quiet, vulnerable moment, his face peaceful in sleep, the furrowed brow he always carried gone, replaced by a soft expression of calm. He looked... young, in a way—so human, so real.

You adjusted slightly to make yourself more comfortable without waking him, keeping your head nestled in the crook of his arm. The world outside was quiet, and for the first time since everything had started, you felt safe, even if it was just for a little while. You knew you were okay. Even with everything that had happened, in that moment, you were exactly where you needed to be.

Mark’s soft breathing filled the silence, and you couldn’t help but smile, the steady rhythm of his sleep lulling you into a peaceful calm. Despite the chaos of everything around you, there was this—this stillness, this comfort you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

But as you lay there, the thought crept into your mind—one you hadn’t really let yourself entertain before. You realized you didn’t know anything about his universe, about what his life had been like before everything that had happened. How different had it been from Sinister’s life? What kind of person had he been? What had shaped him into who he was now?

The curiosity stirred, pulling at you, wondering what choices, what experiences had led him here—what his life had been like, what it was still becoming. For now, though, it would have to be enough to just let him sleep.

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→ Part Ten - The Finale ←

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Chapter 9: The Ghost in You

[Also Available on AO3]

Shadow Dance Masterlist

Summary: The 141 and Los Vaqueros prepare for their attack against Graves and Shadow Co.

Warnings/Tags: Minors DNI, swearing, character with trauma, established relationship, military inaccuracies, smoking, includes some in-game dialogue, dubious people being dubious, fuckboi!Soap, and a flashback to the first time Rory met Ghost

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC - 3rd person POV (Rory Sinclair)

Word count: 6.7 K

A/N: the further continuation of Rory's story, this follows and expands upon the COD: MW2 reboot canon. Told from Rory's POV

This is very much a self-indulgent aside chapter for the author

November 3, 2022 07:30 - Las Almas, Mexico

The morning sun bathed the wooden walls of the old hanger – the makeshift base for Los Vaqueros and the 141 as they readied themselves to strike back against Graves and Shadow. Light seeped in through the seams between the slats and from under the doors, the honey-ooze of warmth streaking across the floor in bright striations as motes of dust sparkled through them after the bodies of soldiers milling about stirred the particles to life.   

Rory leaned against the exterior of the building, shoulder blades pressed to the worn wood, the rough grain brushing against the bare skin of her arms. Taking a brief respite, cigarette in hand, she let the coiling smoke permeate her lungs, filling her up and swirling around the stress that gurgled in her gut, only to extricate it from her with a heavy breath up towards the blue skies and gleam of the equator’s sun. In the quiet stillness, surrounded by birdsong and the soft breeze through the trees, the sun warming her face and kissing her cheeks, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the end of the fateful mission five years prior that got her here. Desert sand, the rising sun, and a blossoming romance that had now bloomed and sprouted like one of those creeping plants that spread out undeterred. Ivy, mint, and morning glories. Wrapping around everything in its reach, intertwined, firm and withstanding against the rain and the sleet and the snow. Coiling and twisting up fences and walls, always reaching for the sun. No matter the circumstances, it’s will to survive, to persist, was absolute – that’s what she had with John. 

Lord knew they had faced their share of trials, arguments of two strong willed people in opposition. Disagreements over the house, bills, purchases, how to spend a weekend together (as few and far between as they were with work). Little things in the grand scheme. But there were also the wars of attrition, the ongoing battles that would likely continue until death did they part. Or – as far as her father was concerned – as soon as she smartened up.

It was the defining part of their relationship, the push and pull of trying to save each other even as it stood in conflict with the other’s viewpoint. How she fought for the better parts of John’s nature that still resided there beneath all the conditioning and walls he built up to survive a life tainted by violence and indifference to what was considered “moral”. Drawing out the smiles and laughs like nobody else, the ones that crinkled every line in his face and left the mimetic muscles sore and aching as the hardened facade of the Captain cracked. Bringing him back to that Lieutenant who had swept her off her feet, to the boy he once was before shipping off to the military and leaving the life he had known behind – embarrassing teenage rebellion eyebrow ring included. And for John, it was the conviction to always keep her protected, both from herself and the rest of the world. A promise he aimed to keep after making it half a decade ago. The guiding hand that kept her from falling over the edge into the nightmares that sometimes felt like they might swallow her whole, giving her a place of safety where she could finally stop hiding the burdens that wore on her shoulders, to face them fully and no longer retreat from the pain. A bodyguard to beat back the demons when they became too much. The shoulder to cry on without any judgement. The steady bulwark of reliability.

The sword. The shield. Their love. 

Things weren’t always perfect, but there were moments that came so impossibly close. Moments of peace, gentle stillness shared by two people who spent more time around death than could ever be good for one’s soul. Quiet evenings on the couch with a cuppa and a movie, camping in the pouring rain and listening to it pelt against the cabin roof, getting food from the local chippy when they were both too damn tired for much else after a long mission, sitting on the cool kitchen tiles and passing the bottle of whiskey back and forth late at night while telling each other childhood stories. Those were the memories she clung to, the ones that brought a smile to her face and made her heart sing and leap in her chest. Those were the things that reminded her this was real, that theirs was a love that couldn’t be broken. There may not have been a ring, but she was his and he was hers. No one could deny that. 

Freed from her reverie, Rory huffed out a laugh and shifted her feet in the dirt as the doors opened and Ghost and Gaz exited, headed towards her position for their own cigarette break while Soap followed behind, jabbering away – he didn’t partake himself, but that didn’t mean he didn’t soak up the secondhand smoke for a little socialization. 

“‘Ey, Lamb,” Gaz called out to her while pulling out his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket. “Boss is lookin’ for ya,” he said, leaning against the wall beside her.

Speak of the devil, she thought, gazing up into the sun through squinted eyes. Rory hummed and dragged the cigarette from her lips, exhaling a stream of smoke. “No rest for the weary, eh?” 

Soap took a spot beside Gaz, and lastly Ghost found a spot positioned just around the corner – always remaining slightly distant, needing his space.

“Did I ever tell you lads about the time I'd gone on a pub crawl and wound up absolutely houndin’ fer–”

“Soap, mate,” Gaz said with a chuckle, slapping his hand to the Scot's chest. “We're in respectable company ‘ere.” Tipping his head in Rory's direction, his boyish grin spread and his eyes softened. “Maybe tone it down a bit, yeah?”

“Oh please,” Rory snickered, tapping the ash off the end of her cigarette. “It's not like I haven't experienced Soap's many tales of pickup artistry before.”

“I'm no’ a bleedin’ pickup artist,” his head turned instantly to face her, ocean eyes glimmering with mirth. “It's all natural charm, lasses love me.”

Rolling her eyes, she took another drag of her cigarette. “This better not be the story about how you brought medals with you from home and told her you'd just been awarded them for bravery.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost groaned around the cigarette that dangled from his lips marked by a large scar. His mask rolled up just under his nose, the material bunched together, exposing the blonde stubble of his chin and the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” Soap's head spun from Ghost to Rory, surprised they didn't see the brilliance of his strategy. “Bonnie wee thing had a night with her own personal hero,” he said proudly, waggling his brows.

“Personal hero?” Gaz snarked. “Bloody hell, Soap.”

“Such a fuckboi,” Rory muttered, laughing as she shook her head. “You know you'd think you'd be using those smarts for something other than racking up numbers on a second bodycount.”

Soap leaned out past Gaz and gave her a cheeky grin. “You can't tell me that if you weren't a few years younger, an’ you didn't ‘ave the Cap'n about, that you wouldn't have fallen for it, Lt.”

She laughed and butted out her cigarette on the heel of her boot. “Not my type, Soap. But I appreciate the thought.”

He grimaced a little and shrugged. “Never been much fer toffs myself, anyhow.”

“Prat,” Rory shot back from over her shoulder, flipping him the bird as she turned to head inside.

Moving through the hanger, taking in the weathered surroundings, Rory noticed the stacked boxes and crates around them, loud music blaring from the stereo set up near the vehicles where some of the soldiers were acting as mechanics. It wasn’t the usual setting to ready oneself for war, it was hardly some elite military base or bunker. Real fucking cowboy shit, she thought. Glancing over at the far side of the sprawling bay where Alejandro and Rudy busily went through inventory, checking their stock of weapons and ammo, their rather dour expressions made her quickly assume that things didn’t look so promising, and with a heavy sigh, marched past them and headed to the room where John had been trying to connect with Shepherd since they had arrived.

Sliding the heavy barn-style doors open, the toned muscles of her arms strained beneath the glisten of sweat stained skin, and the once quiet workspace Price had secluded himself inside was disturbed by voices and song. Only giving a terse glance towards her as she entered the room, he maintained his focus on the laptop he stood hunched over, typing in code to try and break through to the General – wherever the hell he was.

“He’s gone dark, remember?” Arms folded across her chest, she leaned her shoulder against the door sitting ajar. “You think he sees it's you on call display and is just refusing to answer?” she asked, her tone sardonic.

“Rory…” he snarled, eyes fierce as he stared her down and the smirk on her face instantly retreated, busying herself with shutting the doors behind her. 

Holding her hands up in surrender once the room had fallen into silence, she opted to bat her eyelashes a little, hoping to soften the prickly beast. “Sorry. Sorry. Didn’t mean to poke the bear. Wrong time, wrong place for being a smartass. Stress reaction. Forgive me.”

Intense eyes flicked back towards the screen glowing in the dim light of the room, the low whistle of the breeze blowing through the breaks in the wood filling the room with a haunting hum of breath over a glass bottle top. “Kate’s got an encryption running,” he muttered, still trying to get in contact, wanting to hear it all from the horse’s mouth. The rough pads of his fingers brushed against the wood, scuffing against the surface, as he shifted his shoulders in a wave from left to right. His movements were tense – sharp, cutting – as his frustration emanated from him like raging rapids.

Footsteps bounced off the walls and ceiling in the stark room furnished with only a long wooden table as she drew closer, the sound hollow as boots glided through the sand blown in across the floorboards in golden granules. “Gaz said you wanted to see me, sir?” Her brow lifted as she sat against the table, gripping the rough edge for support. Legs outstretched in front of her, ankles crossed, she tilted her head to meet his gaze from under the knotted lines of his furrowed brow tugging at the scar that split the dark hair.

He looked older, the stress settling into the crevices in his face, making the bags under his eyes more pronounced. His boonie hat sat crumpled beside his hand curled into a tight fist, his fingers slowly stretching out and loosening their grip as he sighed and closed the laptop.

“I did, yeah.” Rounding the table, he took a seat down beside her, the table creaking slightly under his weight. Hands gripping the shoulder straps of his vest, he tucked his chin to his chest and cleared his throat, keeping his eyes forward. “Been thinking ‘bout the trouble we’ve gotten ourselves into.”

She nodded her head, tipping it to the side. “Hmm, yeah,” she mused quietly. “But it's nothing we haven’t faced before, eh?”

“I’m not just talking the trouble with PMCs and terrorists, love.” He glanced sideways at her before returning his gaze to the doors as if he were expecting them to burst open at any moment. 

“Something a little more personal, I suppose?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like tha’.”

She bit her lip, chewing it with just enough pressure to turn the pink flesh pale under the edge of her teeth. “Care to clarify?” Her eyes pulled away from the wall across from them and she forced their eyes to meet. 

No more beating around the bush.

“Us, Ror,” he said, lowering his voice. The secret everyone they worked with seemed to know without ever being told, the two of them thick as thieves at all times. “Shepherd knows about us.”

“And you're worried that since he’s gone rogue, turned enemy, that he’ll do something to endanger that.”

“You’re goddamn right I am,” he huffed out, scoffing harshly at the situation they faced.

She clasped her hands in her lap, fidgeting with her fingers absent-mindedly. “Are you more worried about our careers, or –” she paused, glancing up at him and the way he glared out at nothing in particular, chewing on rage and the grit of his teeth. “The latter then,” the words muttered in a low whisper.

“He was willin’ to throw Soap and Ghost under the bus. Who says he doesn’t use us as a weapon against each other?”

“No one,” she said with a shrug. “But that's always been a threat over our heads, hasn’t it? An enemy finding out, exploiting a weakness, taking one of us hostage, using us as bait.” Her head wobbled back and forth as she listed their troubles. “It was always a possibility, my darling.”

He cracked his neck and sighed heavily, a low growl in his throat. “Don't like it one fuckin’ bit.”

“What, and you think I do? This is part of what I warned you about when you first brought up the idea of getting together.” She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, the rough material of his tac vest rubbing harshly against her cheek. 

His arms fell loosely to his sides and his hand found its way to hers, holding it with intertwined fingers. Their gloves, a barrier between the warmth of their skin meeting, were  the physical manifestation of the divide of duty and their personal lives that they should have been keeping apart. The distance slim, but a clear separation. Something they had been letting slide the longer they worked together.

“The course of love never did run smooth,” she quoted. “Especially when we’re two soldiers who have gotten in deep with some of the more questionable forces at play in the world.” Her lips pursed in thought, and she sucked her teeth as she pulled her cheek away and turned her head to rest her chin on his shoulder instead, murmuring into the crook of his neck, “Might have been easier to leave me off your task force. But you just had to have me at your side, didn’t you?”

He huffed and gruffed, rubbing a hand through his hair, mussing up the thick, dark strands peppered with gray. “Told you I'd handle all the problems that came up. That we'd face ‘em together. Haven't changed my mind ‘bout tha’. Havin’ you with me is exactly how I wanted things.” Underlining the point he had given with a sharp turn of his head.

“And Captain knows best, eh?” She whispered, her warm breath fanning against his skin, watching as his pulse fluttered against the muscled column of his throat with her proximity. “Always gets what he wants.”

“You bet your arse,” he murmured, voice a low rumble. A smug, lopsided smirk appeared from under the bristles of his facial hair, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at her, lowering his head to rest his forehead against hers.

Cradling his jaw, feeling the rasp of his whiskers on her fingertips, she smiled. The earthy scent of cigar smoke and the hint of his briny sweat hit her olfactory senses, the scent of home, and it made her sigh softly. “We’ll get through this. If there’s one thing you needn’t worry about right now it's you and me.” She giggled quietly as she brushed her thumb over his plush lower lip, holding him captive with her doe-eyed stare. “Getting soft in your old age, Captain.”

“Oi, cheeky minx.” His eyes widened and he pulled back enough to meet her gaze head on, powder blues burning into her. “If anythin’ that's your bloody doin’,” he said, brows descending to knit together. 

“Me?” Acting shocked at the insinuation, Rory placed her hand on her chest in an over-the-top display of her innocence. “Never.”

“Got me wrapped around your li’l finger, don’t you?” His mustache tickled her forehead as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to it. “Startin’ to think y’ like me like tha’. Might’ve been your plan all along, eh?” he crooned. Giving her hip a gentle pat, his eyes narrowed. “Off with ya. Get the rest of the lads in ‘ere. Close to gettin’ a hit on Shepherd.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” she said, gesturing with a playful two-finger salute from her brow as she made her way back to the doors, playing messenger.

Rubbing at her furrowed brow, pinching the bridge of her nose, exasperation settling in, Rory watched as two grown men postured in front of their computer cameras like territorial dogs with only a flimsy garden fence between them. Barking at one another for supremacy through knots in the wood. One big bloody pissing contest – alpha male bullshit she had never had the time for. 

She kept her eyes trained on Price, his gloved hand slamming down on the lid of the laptop, shutting off all communication with Shepherd. The tension in the room thick enough to be chopped through with the force of an axe after Ghost and Soap had stood sentry, witnesses to the confirmation that the General had burned them, set out to tie off loose ends by whatever means necessary. 

With a quiet clearing of her throat, chewing on her bottom lip, she turned her head just barely to acknowledge the rest of the 141 and Alejandro. “Lads, can you give us the room for a mo’?”

“Ror–” Price held his hand out towards her in that condescending “calm down, I know better than you” motion that drove her up the fucking wall. The movement hardwired into every man in a position of power that left her wanting to bite his bloody fingers off. 

Met by her sharp look, eyes that burned like flames licking at trees in a forest blaze, he stopped and nodded his head to direct his team out. “Go on.” Standing there, arms crossed over her chest, she waited to hear the heavy wooden door shut behind them, the hollow bang of timber like the starter’s gun going off, signaling that they were finally alone. With prudent steps, she moved closer to the table and pressed her fingertips to the wood grain beside the computer, tracing the grooves before leaning her weight against it. “What do you think you're doing, love?” she asked quietly, continuing to worry her lip. “Posturing in front of the camera like that? That's not how you handle a man like Shepherd.” Pausing to take a deep centering breath, her glance darted down to the laptop and then back up at him. “Are you sure that was even a threat worth making?” 

Questioning his moves was a careful dance at a time like this. It was obvious to anyone that in the heat of the moment, John had lost his cool, let his protective instincts take over and all the stress he wore on his shoulders suddenly burst forth in a swell of anger that threatened to take everything he had built along with it. There had been several occasions when she had observed him losing sight of himself, barking back at those who thought they knew better, those with a higher rank who had made a terrible call and he was all too ready to go to bat for whoever their decision might have harmed. Good intentions muddied by the more enigmatic thoughts that whirred through his head, the dangerous parts that clouded his judgement at times. But, well-schooled in the art of proper foot placement when it came to Price and avoiding the hidden tripwires, Rory maneuvered her way through the conversation, gently edging forward. 

“Shepherd’s been getting his hands dirty –” he growled. 

“Like we haven’t? John, he’s a four star general in the US army.” Her face contorted into a pained grimace at her own earlier belief Shepherd might have been better than this. Her nose scrunching, lip curled, she continued, “Are we really so surprised? You don’t get there by being an especially good person. It's not like it’s above him to do that sort of thing. In fact, it’s exactly what he’s capable of – we just didn’t want to see it.”

Her hand posted itself on her hip and, like a seasoned animal whisperer, she stared him straight in the eye without an ounce of intimidation. “With a man like Shepherd, you should’ve played your cards very close to your chest. Instead, you've just told him you're coming for him. You've given him a reason to scatter like a cockroach in the light – not to mention putting a target on your back.” Pressing her index finger to his chest, she pushed firmly enough to make her point. “You are one man and he is a very big fish. He may have gone into hiding, but that doesn’t mean he’s down and out.” Her tongue dragged across her lips, forcing time to release the tension building between them. “You are punching above your weight class, my darling.” 

“I can’t just sit idly by,” he rasped, blue eyes flaring savagely while the rest of him remained alarmingly still.

“I’m not saying that. Take care of Graves. But with Shepherd, you should have played along. Been the obedient, good little toy soldier and then – and only then – when he’s not expecting it, when the moment’s right and his back is to the wall, then you bugger him in the arse.”

John chuckled darkly, a cold curl to his sly smile that made his dimple almost menacing. “You're a vicious little thing, aren't you, my girl?” His forehead wrinkled as the intense set of his stare focused on her.

“I’m Special Forces, what did you expect?” Her chin lifted haughtily and she flicked her finger against the underside of his chin, his stubble scraping against her digit. “Not to mention I've had you to learn from for the last five years. It’s not exactly like your tactics are all sweetness and light, are they?” 

He grunted. “Too bloody smart for your own good.”

“That I am.” Her cheeky smirk slowly curled at her lips and she continued, “All I’m saying is, be logical about this. I get that he went for the heart, and that’s a shitty move to make…” She moved closer still, her backside resting against the edge of the table, hands gripping around the shoulder straps of his vest. “But you, love, are the exact type of person who plans everything in advance. Always seven steps ahead, knowing every piece on the board, controlling the flow of movement. Don’t let Shepherd get in your head and play you for a fool. You’ll be helping no one like that.” “Beauty, brains, not to mention a fuckin’ pain in my arse,” he growled, pressing his hands on either side of her on the table, the tip of his nose pressing to hers. “You’re the whole bloody package aren’t you, darlin’.”

“That and more, love,” she said smugly. “That and more.” 

Her eyes flickered to the door, noticing the shadow of feet moving underneath it, the steady pacing of boots ready for action stretching across the floor in the late morning sun. A pack of beasts pacing in their cages, waiting for their moment to attack. “Now, shall we go deal with a Shadow?”

He gave her a peck on the forehead, his hand cupping the back of her neck, squeezing possessively, protectively. “Come on.”

Following in step, Rory stood behind Price as he pushed the doors open, his team and Alejandro turning to face him as if they hadn’t all been straining to listen in to the conversation held between the couple. 

“Lead the way, Colonel,” he said, before purposeful strides had him and the 141 falling into formation behind Vargas as he led them to a table set up in the middle of the hangar. The stereo that had been blasting music was rapidly turned off, the base falling into a twitchy silence as everyone circled around. 

“Alright, listen – We are taking back your HQ. We are getting our prisoner. And we are killing Commander Graves.”

Rodolfo Parra, Vargas’ second-in-command, stood opposite the Captain, his face a severe mask. “When?”

“Now,” Ghost replied. 

“This is a fight against our own… We are not 141 and Los Vaqueros on this,” Price said, punctuating each syllable with a press of his fingers. “We’re a team…”

Ghost pulled out a bag and dumped it out onto the tabletop. Black balaclavas printed with skull designs spilled out across the wood and Rory’s brow lifted at the sight. Biting her tongue as a part of her desperately begged the question where and how did he come across all the masks, and why was he just carrying it with him for this special occasion? She thought better of it then to ask. Sometimes, when it came to Ghost, it was easier just to accept that he enjoyed being off putting, like it was a bit, though the furrow of her brow made her confusion visible for all to see.

“...Ghost team.”

Pulling off his mask, the real face of Lieutenant Simon Riley was suddenly visible for all to see. A surprise to everyone in the room… 

Nearly everyone.

It had been some time since she had seen Lt. Riley without his mask, his accumulation of scars having increased since the previous occasion. It was common for him to sport his balaclava or even the N95 on and off duty, a way to hide his identity, or – as she had always suspected – taking notice away from the scars that marred his features. The bisected brow, the hairline split down both of his lips, the deep lacerations on his cheek, chin, and forehead. His nose had been broken several times over and set crooked, while multiple of his teeth were missing like the hockey players back in Canada. He looked every bit the role of the tank that he had morphed himself into. The harsh lines of pale, puckered flesh carved into his face like fractures in stone stood out against the eyeblack streaked down his cheeks and smeared around his eyes so brown they were nearly onyx.

April 24, 2018 02:10 - Fulham, London, UK

She wakes to the twilight blue darkness of her room, the moonlight swallowed up in the storm clouds that cluster together over the city skyline. Rain patters outside on the balcony, hard and heavy, as thick drops of it drown the flowers she had potted a few days ago. A fog clings low to the city of London, like something out of a gothic novel, the first omen of some looming presence creeping closer.

The sound of voices carries from downstairs – muffled, gruff, the timbre low. She recognizes only one, and as the haze of sleep recedes she realizes the bed beside her is empty, the sheets are cold, wrinkled with movement. John had been there beside her when her eyes had closed, his chest pressed to her back, the familiar weight of him behind her keeping the chill of night away. Now, she could feel it bite into the bare skin of her shoulders where the covers had slipped down her chest, the thin straps of her camisole doing little to fight back against the cold. Brow gently furrowing, delicate lines slice between the two arches, she  pushes the covers aside and the rush of cool air from the open window washes over her, settling a frigidity over her skin and in her bones. 

A shiver courses down her spine, goosebumps traveling in its wake, spreading over her skin as she grabs her robe hanging on the chair in the corner, slipping it on and cinching the belt tight around her. Bare feet pad quietly over the hardwood floors as she proceeds to climb down the stairs, each step carefully placed to outmaneuver the spots that creak. Traversing her home with a cat-like quality, silent in enemy territory and moving one step closer to possible danger. Sure-footed. Confident that she will go unheard, unseen. Running recon in her own home.

Pausing in the doorway of the living room, the French doors left ajar, she feels like a kid on Christmas trying to spy on Santa, peering inside as if she doesn't actually own the townhouse she's creeping through. Taking a moment to regard Price sitting on the couch – a whiskey in hand, his other arm stretched out over the back – entirely relaxed, she notices the strange man in the armchair placed kitty corner away. 

He's somehow wider and taller than Price, an absolute juggernaut of a man with close cropped blonde hair, a stubbly beard, and countless cicatrix crisscrossing his features. One of the hand towels from the downstairs bathroom is draped around his neck, his clothes damp and clinging to him, looking like a drowned rat. The kind that find their way up from the sewers – feral, mean…

She knows better than to judge a book by its cover, but she can’t help the way her brows lift with concern at his appearance, gripping the material of her robe in her fist, holding it shut as if to preserve herself. She’s not sure why that’s her natural inclination, the sudden urge to hide crawling up her nerves like someone’s just passed over her grave. 

He glances up first and catches her eye, noticing the silent figure she maintains in the corner, seemingly unbothered by the way she watches him. He doesn't move, doesn't smile, doesn't greet her. He just sits there. Solid, stoic, unmoving. A monolith. An ancient piece of architecture that has begun to crumble under the passage of time, but still holds resolute.

Price follows the eyeline of the stranger in their midst and glances over his shoulder at her, the hard edges of his steely gaze softening at the sight of her. “Rory, love, come ‘ere,” he says with a little tip of his head, inviting her into her own living room as if he owns the place.

“Who's this?” she asks quietly, voice thick with sleep, as she points her chin in the direction of the stranger. Unable to relax until given the all clear about the guard dog who has found himself a place to curl up on her furniture.

She eyes him warily, assessing the multitude of injuries to his face that have left deep ravines in the flesh, and the peekaboo of tattoos she can spot on his arm where the sleeve of his hoodie has rolled up. He's seen some shit, there's no doubt about it – and if he's friends with Price, well… there’s no telling just how bad it might have been. 

He makes eye contact, holds it steady, taking her in the same way she does towards him. Sizing her up. Intimidation tactics. It wafts off of him. A man who’s used to using his bulk and build to give people pause. He's made himself into a weapon, likely sees himself as little more.

John can see the way she's studying the other man, ever perceptive in the way she tries to read everyone she meets – a trait that acts as a hindrance and a help. He drags her attention away with a hard stare before taking her hand in his and pulling her into his lap, letting her take a seat on his thigh. He holds her close, the smell of cigar smoke and whiskey strong on his breath as if he'd only just partaken of them. He's been up for a while already, and it's the middle of the night. “This ‘ere's Simon Riley. An old friend, and a Lieutenant in the SAS.”

A cold smirk pulls at the giant's thin lips. “And this must be the bird you're willin’ t’ risk your entire career for. Blimey Price, haven't done ‘alf bad f’ y'self, ‘ave you?”

“He knows?” Rory asks incredulously, her brow lifted as she turns to look at Price like he's on trial.

John nods. It's curt, lacking in remorse. He won't be apologizing.

She rolls her eyes and sighs, crossing her arms over her chest, still remaining rigid as if she’s in some sort of hostage situation. 

“Couldn't ‘elp it. Price ‘ere has a standin’ invitation with me. Had to explain why he wasn't at ‘is flat and why I had to come all the way out to London to see ‘im.” Dark eyes flicker over her, the lamp light glowing behind his head setting his features in shadow. “Saw the snaps ‘e keeps o’ you there… Never thought ‘e'd end up with some posh bird, but ‘e seems rather smitten with ya, I'll give you tha’.”

“Standing invitation?” She's curious, having never really met any of John's mates before — besides Nikolai, of course. It's been five months, she knew they existed, but being in a relationship with a superior officer meant she wasn't afforded some of the usual privileges that came with being a partner.

“Simon and I go way back. Trust one another. We're close. Sometimes he needs an ear.”

“Or a fist –” Simon says with a rattling laugh before gulping down what liquid remained in his glass.

“Right,” she murmurs, feeling a sudden dryness in the back of her throat. Reaching down she grabs the glass in Price’s hand and brings it to her lips to take a sip, the scotch warming her belly during the bitter dead of night. “Well, so glad you feel comfortable enough to take it upon yourself to share my good liquor with the guest, John. This is the Glenfiddich, isn’t it?” A little Dutch courage later and a smirk curls her lips as she starts to loosen up. “Make yourself right at home, why don't you,” the sarcasm rolling off her tongue.

John chuckles and wraps his arm tighter around her waist, pulling her against him until her body is nestled right against his. “We're practically living together as is. Aren't we, darlin’?”

The skeptical scoff sputters forth and she shakes her head at his insistence. “You keep some toiletries and a few changes of clothes here, love. We haven't yet talked about you moving in.”

“Things sound serious,” Simon says with the finality of the glass tumbler thudding on the coffee table in front of him.

“They are,” John states adamantly, and the fact he does so makes her heart flutter. He'd been serious in that tent about not wanting this to be some fling, this was the real deal.

“Must be one ‘ell of a soldier to keep you comin’ back.”

Price glances up at Rory, unfathomable eyes lingering on hers, fingers tucking her hair behind her ear, reverent in the way he touches her. “She is.” His voice is a soft purr like a contented cat. “Bloody incredible.” His gaze strays over to the other man in the room, pride puffing up his barrel chest as he reminds himself of her many competencies. The look of a man who might as well have been holding the FA cup. “Should see her with a scope.”

Simon sits forward in his seat, his hollow, haunted stare locking with Rory’s. “Is that a challenge?”

“Sniper, I assume?” Her interest is momentarily piqued as she is once more pulled into the conversation.

“Among other things.” His half grin reveals several missing teeth, the rest crooked and yellowed with nicotine.

She snickers quietly to herself, unsurprised by the use of subtlety and half-truths that were all too common amongst soldiers in the Special Forces. Most were never exactly open about anything, it was all long corridors with walls at the end of them, and judging by Lt. Riley’s appearance, she could only imagine it would take more than a bloody sledgehammer to get through his. 

“So SAS, a friend of John’s, a fellow sniper…” Rory turns and looks at Price. “How come you never told me about him? Might have been easier than having him just randomly appear in my house in the middle of the night like he’s fucking Batman.”

“That would be on me,” Simon rasped.

“Would it now?” Her head tips to the side and she takes the whiskey glass from John once more, sloshing the drink around in concentric circles. 

“Not a big fan o’ people knowin’ ‘bout me.”

“Usually wears a mask,” John adds, as if that’s perfectly normal. 

“A mask?” She pauses and her jaw clenches as she debates the reason. “You know what, I’m not even going to ask.”

“Good. Wouldn’t ‘ave told you anyhow.”

She laughs and it breaks the barriers of antagonism instantly. “Fair enough.” Taking another sip, she glances between the two men. “Right, well, I only hope you’re here tonight for the ear and not the fist. I’d rather my house wasn’t used as a sparring ring, just had it renovated.” She hands the glass back to John and pats his chest, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. “I’m getting some sleep. Was good meeting you Simon.”

He nods, pulling the towel off his neck. “‘Pologies ‘bout the towel.”

“Couldn’t be tossed.” Hand waving the soaked towel away, it was no skin off her nose. “Hardly ever have company over. And John knows where the washing is.” She stands up and heads back to the french doors, fingers curling around the wood and glass as she lingers in the doorway. “Just keep it down, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” John says with a smirk, winking at her. 

“Piss off, you pillock.” With a laugh she heads upstairs once more, leaving them to their clandestine meeting. 

“Good to see you again, Simon.” 

Price’s little nod and the grin on his face were like that of a proud father as the others gazed on with furrowed brows, Soap’s eyes widening slightly at the visage of the man who had taught him how to stay alive with whatever he could find on hand, every mark a testament to the Lieutenant’s experience. 

Pulling the boonie hat from his head, placing the weather-worn and sweat stained accessory down on the table in front of Rory, he continued, “If you’re in, take a mask… if you’re not… Don’t.”

Hands reached into the center, all grabbing a mask without a second thought, Los Vaqueros and 141 alike. Graves had just made some very powerful enemies. To be a traitor wasn’t something taken lightly. 

Leaning forward, Rory stretched her hand out and was met by Price’s gloved fist already holding one of the balaclavas for her. Taking it from his grasp with a little smirk and a quiet “Ta”, she stretched out the material of the hood and gave it a once over. It felt a bit like being a kid again, having her parents pick out her Halloween costume for her. 

Raking her fingers through her hair, she brushed the strands out of her face and pulled the mask down. The material sitting snugly against her features, only her hazel doe eyes peering out, meeting the piercing blue ones of John.

“We were late getting to celebrate Halloween this year, suppose I get to do so now,” she mumbled, the mask muffling her voice. Her brow cocked, hidden beneath, but the crinkle around her eyes gave away her cheeky grin. “Don’t think I would have chosen a skeleton myself. Not really on brand for me, is it?”

Leaning towards her, he huffed out a dry chuckle. “Suits you, my girl.” 

[eisforeidolon]

Hi! Sorry if i'm bothering you but i needed someone to talk. About what happened recently with Destiel and Misha and the fans that believed in the things he said. I am new to Supernatural fandom, but i loved the story in an instant, thanks to Sam and Dean and their unique relationship. Then i became interested in Jared and Jensen too and i think that if Sam and and Dean are the heart of Supernatural then Jared and Jensen are the soul of the show because to me no other actor could have played Sam and Dean like they did. Now, returning to what i wanted to say i am really TIRED about Destiel, some Destiel shippers and especially Misha. I know he said some stupid thing about how CW is homophobic and how Destiel would be canon if they weren't homophobic. I don't ship Destiel because sincerely i don't see romantic love between Dean and Castiel, but this doesn't make me an homophobic person. His words are said with malicious intent. He also said some thing about how Jensen is attracted to him. I find this disgusting because he says this things only for his Destiel fan, knowing that his words are lies. Also Jensen not being there can't reply to his lies. Like i sad i'm new to Supernatural but some Destiel are making the experience in the fandom a constant war. They say that if you don't ship Destiel you are homophobic , that if you don't ship Destiel you are not a true Supernatural fan and the most stupid one... They say that Supernatural is about Dean and Castiel and their love. This make me really angry because Supernatural is about Sam And Dean, how they care for each other,how they save the world again and again and how they hunt monster and ghost and other things. But to me Supernatural is the unique love story of two brother and how they did everything to protect each other. I ship Wincest, but When i say love story i mean that Sam and Dean are Platonic Soulmates in Supernatural and even the show always remind us of that. I don't understant how Misha can say this thing without facing consequences because his words feed some Destiel fan that became hateful like him and whose mission is hating people who don't think think like them. Sorry for the long post and for the horrible english but it's not my first language. Sorry if i bothered you but i needed someone to talk to because sometimes i feel like leaving the fandom because Destiel hate and their war against everyone. I hope you will always have love and kindness in your life.

You really don't need to apologize for anything.❤️ You aren't bothering me and your English is fine - maybe not perfect, but hell, neither is mine some days! Thank you for the lovely sentiment, and I wish you the same - and that you do what is best for you in regards to this sometimes dumpster fire of a fandom.

If it helps, you're absolutely not alone. I've been in this fandom for years now, and some days it's sheer stubbornness against hellers obvious attempts to browbeat and drive everyone else out that keeps me here. They didn't get to take over the show through being loud and obnoxious and they don't get to monopolize the fandom by doing the same - and they can be butthurt forever over it.

I actually didn't mind Dean and Castiel as a ship at first. I'm always interested in what people take from a canon and then create entirely outside of it, and I read quite a lot of fanfic. Even then I was baffled by shippers insisting it was a thing in the canon, though. There was a brief period where I wondered if I'd somehow missed it, because I'm not generally really looking for romance stories and there were so many posts that were so insistent? So I actually did a rewatch focused just on Dean and Castiel's interactions - and came away with the impression they weren't actually even as good of friends as I'd originally thought, let alone anything like interested in each other romantically. The more I thought about it and the more meta I ran across and actually considered the details of? The more obviously baseless it was. I mean, some of it really is just genuinely so stupid it's hilarious. Cake. Bacon. Negative space. Widower arc. Bisexual lighting and/or plaid. But even the theorizing which wasn't absurd on its face? Always looked silly in comparison to how much more obviously and easily it had meaning in relation to the main story that plainly actually existed instead.

Meanwhile, I kept seeing more and more of those posts you mention insisting anyone who didn't ship it was a homophobe and they really pissed me off. Even if Dean and Castiel were a canon couple who spent half of each episode doing couple things and saying I love you back and forth instead of the entire show revolving around Sam and Dean's crazy tangled up lives with Castiel occasionally wandering in and out of the background with some angel nonsense or whatever? Not shipping it would not make someone a homophobe. Shipping is very subjective and any individual pairing can not appeal to any particular fan for a million and one reasons that have sweet fuckall to do with how they generally feel about LGBT+ relationships. Attempting to bully people into supporting a single very specific fictional relationship by trying to make them afraid of being branded a bigot if they don't is ridiculous as hell, regardless of how canon or not it is. How absolutely fucking disrespectful to all the people who have to deal with actual homophobia versus just being butthurt they can't force two particular fictional characters to kiss. It's so goddamn juvenile I can't even.

The longer I was in fandom, the more brain dead and divorced from the show the meta claiming Dean and Castiel were going to hook up any minute got. The more annoyed I became at all the absurd stereotypes about masculinity and sexuality they would parrot as gospel truth if it could "prove" Dean was into dudes and eventually the angel. The more obviously transparent their every cry of ~*homophobia*~ was when they tried to turn every real life LGBT+ issue and every canon LGBT+ character primarily into proof and/or justification regarding D/C. They're a bunch of entitled shitheads who not only feel like they should get to dictate what SPN is despite hating basically everything it actually was, but who are perfectly fine with co-opting serious real world issues to try and do it. I have no beef with normal D/C shippers who aren't assholes to everyone and mad at the show for not bringing their fanfic to life, but I can't stand the pairing at all even in a fandom sense anymore.

The evolution of my feelings on Misha followed a similar path. I liked Castiel well enough as a supporting character and I didn't actively dislike Misha, though after I'd seen a couple of panels where his answers were flippantly irreverent or unnecessarily raunchy, I wasn't really much interested in him. Then, over time, at the same time Castiel's character was more and more blatantly just eating up screen time to give J2 time off, he started getting worse and worse about ship-baiting. He'd act like everyone behind the scenes was talking about D/C - but then they (Jensen and Bob Singer most notably) would say that was untrue. He'd slyly hint about upcoming scenes in a vague way to imply D/C and then it would be something else entirely. He'd tell shippers about things that had been pointedly removed because they could seem leading and that was not the authorial intent, but without pointing out that was exactly why they were excised. His stories would change when he got a bad reaction - he went from saying he shipped wincest to pretending he'd never heard of it, he went from claiming Jimmy was going to appear in the original Roadhouse finale to it being Castiel, etc. Then there was framing horsing around with Jared as if he was a victim and not a participant and the incredibly inappropriate objectifying sexual comments about Jensen and Dean. All of which caused the fans falling for it to loudly and angrily attack everyone but him while they kept buying his ops/books/cameos/whatever. No matter how blatantly he queerbaits them and how upset they get over it and take it out on everyone else, he does not stop. He's an ungrateful creepy narcissist who will throw literally anyone or anything under the bus if he can get a buck out of it. Who also will proclaim he doesn't want to co-opt LGBT+ causes when he's desperately trying to keep his career on life support doing exactly that in the most skeevy, backstabby way possible.

Jared and Jensen put their hearts and years of their lives into this show bringing Sam and Dean to life, episode after episode, week after week, season after season. Telling an important story about platonic and familial love that you really won't find anywhere else.

Misha and the hellers have spent years trying to co-opt that to their own ends out of gross entitlement. They deserve each other, but the show and its actual fans don't deserve to have to put up with either of them. Unfortunately, we have the fandom we have, not the one we deserve.

[the-copycat-hero]

In my mind, Monoma knows how to pickpocket, do sleight of hand, roll a coin across his knuckles, all that good stuff :D I also hc him to have voluntary nystagmus. No particular reason, I just 100% think Monoma would use that skill to freak people out

Also I hc him to be friends with Hatsume Mei. Each time he visits he brings a whole packet of papers, diagrams, analytics of quirks and how they relate to their costumes, and Mei def eats it up EVERY TIME. She also has him try quirks she needs for the equipment whenever possible. They’re smart kids :>

What do you like seeing most in monoma fics/fan work and what do you want to see more of? Any relationships (romance or gen) you like? Also I’m very curious about the Monoma family 👀 Clearly they don’t seem to keep in touch. What does Monoma say when he’s asked about them? Is it something he keeps under wraps or are most of his friends aware

!!!!!!! Big Brain Takes! Massive!

sleight of hand (and other assorted part trick) Monoma is near and dear to my heart, and i could definitely see him being able to do Some Sorta Nonsense with his body like voluntarily vibrate his eyes. i could see him being double jointed, too. (he is a Bendy Boy.)

ALSO the fact that Monoma and Hatsume never interacted in any meaningful way will haunt me until i die. they are so smart, and they are such freaks (/pos). their aura would have been so powerful. maybe too powerful? i guess Hori had to nerf them somehow.

as far as fanworks go, i am a massive fan of any fic that has Monoma showcasing his quirk. (for example, Learning Curve has a fantastic scene with a training exercise/mock battle that i frequently go back to because it is So Peak to me.)

as far as things i'd like to see more of, i'd kill for more introspective pieces of Monoma learning how to adjust after the war. (let me see him talk to Bakugo, who he watched die! let me see him talk to Aizawa, who tried to protect him!!!) i'm hoping some more of that will come with time as the anime draws closer to the end, but i suppose we shall see.

romance-wise, i'm big on Monoshin and have been since season 2. the fact that it used to be a rarepair floors me. (really played the long game on that one). that being said, i could honestly read about Monoma with almost any other student, his personality is just that much fun to me. apart from Monoshin, i've been seeing quite a bit of Timebomb and Monoma/Pony on my timeline, and i find both so incredibly charming.

platonically: Kendo. Shinsou. Tokage. Mei. Honenuki. Bakugo (especially after the war). ERI. Vlad and/or Aizawa. slap Monoma in an interaction with any of them and i am Locked In.

FINALLY, the Monoma family. (man, the Monoma family.) @smallvictorianchildwhofoundwifi and i have constructed pages upon pages of lore for these human disasters, but i'll try to keep it brief:

Monoma's dad (still need a name) - only ever agreed to have a child in the first place because his side of the family was pressing for it. resents Neito for reasons that i'll probably dig into later - but as long as Neito isn't actively making a mockery of the family name, his dad really can't be bothered to think about him.

Monoma's mom (Hiromi) [PRE WAR] - had Neito when she was young (around 21 years old) because, again, her husband's side of the family was insistent. she adored him at first sight; however, she has had to make a lot of changes to appease her husband's side of the family over the years, and it has turned her into a harsher, colder person overall. every once and a while, she'll be struck with fondness for her son, but it never lasts for long before she goes back to being made of ice. maybe also unconsciously resents Neito some for marking the end of her old life.

Hiromi (cont) [Post-War] - determined to reconnect with her son after almost losing him in the final battle. has made so many mistakes that it seems impossible, but Neito got his tenacity from someone, and it certainly wasn't his father.

Monoma's class knows next to nothing about his family. even Kendo, who has known Monoma for a long while, has precious little information to go off of.

some of the girls in Monoma's class stumble across a picture of Monoma's mother from one of her last modeling shoots, but when they ask him about her, Monoma just tells them that he has his mother to thank for his dashing good looks and leaves it at that. Ittaka - Monoma's old caretaker (and pseudo-older sister) - comes to visit him once, and his classmates briefly think that his real mother must have died until Kendo corrects them (because she may not know much about the Monomas, but she knows that they are all still kicking). but that's about all they've got.

tldr; trying to wrangle a straight answer out of Monoma regarding his family is impossible.

[pythoneon]

Someone might’ve posted about this before, but while i have the persistent brainrot, I wanna ramble about hatchetfield and the perpetual cycle of missed opportunities.

The first couple is pretty obvious: Paul and Emma. They’re two people who don’t get the chance to move past the early stages of a relationship. In TGWDLM, they’ve just gotten on a first name basis, even though he’s a regular and there’s a connection between them. It’s a slow burn that fizzles out because of the circumstances. Black Friday is a bit different because, while they’re not an official couple, Emma cares enough about Paul to bring her to what she thinks is a belated Thanksgiving dinner with estranged family. But that musical ends with everyone being blown to kingdom come, so again, it doesn’t evolve further than being “intimate” with each other. Then, of course, there’s their brief interaction in NPMD which parallels TGWDLM, with an interruption by Officer Bailey. In Nightmare Time, only Paul 23 and Android! Emma have a happy ending, but not without hiccups of course. They seem like an inevitability-pun fully intended-in every universe. Oftentimes, their potential is never fully realized.

Becky and Tom is an interesting couple because they’re the only main pairing that dated and broke up, only to get back together later on. They dated in high school and were pulled apart by circumstance. Tom goes to war, and in the interim, Becky becomes entangled with her abusive husband that keeps them apart even after he comes back. In Black Friday, they reunite, bone in the movie theater, but again, they get fucking bombed at the end. In Jane’s A Car, they actually get to rekindle their relationship, getting to the point that Tom brings Becky home to meet his son. Tim even likes Becky, acknowledging that she can’t replace his mom but she’s a good presence for them both. Unfortunately, Tom’s grief and guilt drives them apart again-pun not intended this time. There could be other worlds where they get back together as well, but that comes after years of heartbreak, trauma, and separation.

Lex and Ethan are interesting because in every world we’ve seen thus far, they start each story in a very committed relationship. We don’t see their beginning stages like the others, so we already know how they are together. This makes Black Friday even more devastating when we watch Ethan die protecting Hannah, and Lex never finds this out. She dies unaware of his fate. Then in Witch in a Web, they’re both in jail after trying to make money to get Hannah out of their neglectful mother’s home. Yellow Jacket is the worst, I think. Because Ethan wants the best for Lex and Hannah, he allows Hannah to take part in the super kid fight club, which accidentally dooms his relationship after they kill Otho and have to go on the run from Charlie. We see him getting her a ring, preparing to propose to her, but he never gets the chance. Lex leaves him behind in Hatchetfield to relieve him of the burden of having to protect her and Hannah. Ethan loves Lex so much that while trying to save her, he loses her.

Finally, our newest and most hopeful addition: Steph and Pete. The babies. We see them first in Abstinence Camp, finding kindred spirits in each other because they see themselves outcasts in their environment. I’d argue this is also true in NPMD. They’re both outliers in their social groups, and connect because of this. In TGWDLM, we can assume they both are infected before ever meeting-the same thing goes for Black Friday. The nice thing about their relationship is, in both Abstinence Camp and NPMD, they end the story in the early stages of their romance, and we can assume it’ll develop further because they both trust each other and have ‘defeated’ the monster. However, they don’t get through it unscathed. Nobody does. But I’ll be optimistic and say they’re the only ones who actually get the happy ending they deserve.

Some honorable mentions:

- Ted and Charlotte, and Ted and Jenny. Ted seems to truly care for Charlotte, and in TGWDLM, he watches her die for her scummy husband. In Black Friday, they’re briefly seen together at the end, but again, BOMB. Then there’s Forever & Always, where it’s revealed Ted is responsible for the death of his one true love, and also his own.

- Linda and Gerald is less subtle, considering they’re both batshit, but their insanity makes them a match made in hell. So, it’s pretty sad when, in Nightmare Time 2, Gerald dies helping Linda become the titular Honey Queen. And, of course, Linda dies in Black Friday while on the phone with him.

- DUKE AND MISS HOLLOWAY. OH BOY DO I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THEM. THE TRAGEDY OF FALLING FOR SOMEONE WHO YOU CAN NEVER SHARE YOUR LIFE WITH BECAUSE BUT YEARNING TO BE IN THEIR LIFE IN ANY WAY POSSIBLE. THE PAINS OF BEING IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE THAT YOU NEVER REALLY KNEW, NOR COULD YOU EVER TRULY KNOW HER, BUT YOU LOVE HER REGARDLESS, AND YOULL ALWAYS LOVE HER. PROTECTING THE PERSON YOU LOVE EVEN IF IT MEANS ACCIDENTALLY DAMNING YOURSELF INTO STARTING OVER WITHOUT THAT PERSON. GOD THEY MAKE ME SO SAD

[childofsquidward]

Books I Read In 2022 (and by read I mean actually liked)

The Henna Wars by Adiba Jaigirdar

“This is one of those moments that I want to bottle up and keep with me forever. Not because it’s extraordinary, or because it’s the kind of thing you would find in a Bollywood movie. But because it’s the kind of moment I could never have dreamed of having in a million years.”

⭐⭐⭐⭐

SPOILERS BELOW!!!

I’ve been meaning to read Adiba Jaigirdar’s work for a while now because, come on, a coming-of-age story about a queer Bangali girl living abroad? This is something I dream-journaled about and I’m really happy that teens now can have a book like this. I’m going to try and keep my thoughts as organized as I possibly can (keyword: try).

=>Nishat

I want to start off by saying that Nishat is a fantastic protagonist. I might be a little biased and irrationally protective of her, but I found Nishat to be a very balanced main character. She might come off as self-centred in certain parts of the book but I think a lot of people overlook what she’s going through and the fact that she is apologetic towards Priti and towards her friends. 

Initially, I had a visceral reaction to both the insensitive comments from Jess and the way Priti outed her sister and then called her selfish for being upset. 

However, once I sat with the book for a while I was able to be a little more understanding of the way Adiba Jaigirdar chose to portray these relationships. 

While Nishat had Priti to express her problems to, Priti could not do the same in turn. I can sympathize with her feeling isolated and in the middle of this silent war between her parents and her big sister, but I think it was really shitty of her to not come clean and apologize to Nishat. Throwing their grandmother’s health in her face was absolutely uncalled for. 

I appreciated the reconciliation between Nishat and her friends a lot more. Both Nishat and I had the same realization that Chaewon just wanted to be able to share her culture in this project and that it’s as important to her as henna is to Nishat. And Jess joking about Nishat having terrible taste in girls if there was some truth to Chyna’s rumours was the most best-friend-y she could’ve comforted her.

Nishat is also absolutely hilarious. The fact that she bought all the henna from the store Flávia was going to use was amazing, that is business women, I don’t care what anyone else has to say. Her resilience is something I would’ve looked up to if I had this book when I was younger. Scratch that, it’s something I think I can still look up to now as an adult.  

=>Nishat and Flávia

This book wasn’t as romance-heavy as I anticipated, but I was really invested in Nishat’s story and I think Nishat and Flávia’s relationship was still given the space to grow and to shine. 

I was expecting a rivals-to-lovers storyline, but instead, I got a childhood friends-to-somewhat rivals-to-lovers storyline which I think preferred. Childhood friends-to-lovers is my favourite trope and I like the way that it was done here.

 Nishat referring to the first time they see each other again at a wedding as her “Bollywood moment” was so cute! And it was so sweet that they still remembered certain things about each other. 

Overall, despite all the hurdles in their relationship, I did actually like their story.

=>Things I really appreciated, in no particular order.

The trigger warning at the beginning. Some of y’all were so shocked by the level of racism and homophobia in this book as if we weren’t made aware of this. I appreciate trigger warnings because as much as I love reading, I have my limits. Also, yes this is my PSA for everyone to read the trigger warnings! 

There was this brief conversation that Nishat had with her Sunny Apu that I appreciated because we got this fucking masterpiece of a line: “Sunny Apu, you don’t even pray namaz.” This hit so hard because it really is like that. People who’ve never even the Quran, who don’t know a single surah - these are the people with the most opinions on Islam and what makes a “good Muslim” like, get outta here.

Nishat getting happy when Priti’s impressed by the henna that she did, because older siblings seek just as much validation from their younger siblings that they do from them.

I mostly enjoyed Nishat and Priti’s bond as well. I didn’t grow up with sisters myself, but there were moments where I either related to Nishat as an older sister, or she and Priti reminded me of my cousins. Them calling each other ‘gadha’ and ‘chagol’ is just the beginning in terms of Bangali expressions that were used in the same way other authors would use very American language and expect everyone else in the world to just connect the dots.

Obviously, I didn’t live through Nishat’s exact experience, but there were still little things that I related to which is something that rarely happens with other books. Even something as simple as her Abbu reading Bengali news while her Ammu scrolls through Facebook for gossip was enough to bring a stupidly large smile to my face. Or the comment about “weddings of people we barely knew but were somehow related to.” And in that same vein, we had this line, “She’s Ammu’s aunt’s cousin’s daughter.”

=>Things I didn’t totally love.

Listen, I’m so happy Nishat’s parents came around, it was very sweet and I’m happy that we were able to end on a positive note. But I feel as though for a book of this length we could’ve gotten a better resolution because it kind of came out of nowhere.

That last bit with Chyna also came out of nowhere, but okay I guess, great that she’s trying to be a decent being.

I was not a big fan of the pacing is what I’m trying to say. The writing style in general felt a little all over the place to me, but it was a really strong debut.

I want to end my spiel by addressing the main plot of the book since people are so divided on it. The entire concept of this book is something that really resonated with me because I fully empathize with Nishat’s frustration. I understand other South Asian people have their own opinions on cultural appropriation and that’s perfectly fine, but for me personally, while I think it’s wonderful when we share our culture with the world, I find myself getting defensive when others think they have some sort of claim over my culture. Yes, there are many artistic elements to henna, but it’s not meant to be treated as paint or crayons - it is not a fucking tool, especially to be used by people who call them tattoos, and especially if someone like Chyna, known racist bully and all-around menace, is the one trying profit off of it. (Also, the “Holi party”? The stencils? Please tell me this isn’t what some of y’all are defending.)

(Also I totally made a playlist that’s constantly being updated because I have no self control like that.) x

[cultofcola]

here’s what i have so far;

i am the sole heiress to the noble and most radiant house of solaire, a wizarding family originating from france, that has resided in britain since the 17th century

the solaires are a matriarchal family, with my mother being the current lord

i have two older brothers, both of them *can* be head of the house if i decide to give up my position before i am 18. however, the eldest, as charming as he is, doesn’t care for the title, and the middle is more interested in the business side of things.

our family are rivals with the blacks, kind of? there’s some tension there, romance, business, general pettiness, you get the vibe

our ancestor was a court mage for the france royal family sometime during in the middle ages

rumors about our family's origins have spread throughout wizardkind for decades. one in particular states that the house of solaire’s ancestor was not a powerful witch, but instead, a powerful dragon. although it sounds ridiculous, unbeknownst to anyone outside the family, this rumor holds some truth.

i come to find out a dragon’s power had reawakened in me, which made itself known in the worst way possible; a powerful and explosive burst of magic when i was 7, that put me in a brief coma

do you have any ideas on how to make me have the dragon’s power in the first place? and some family lore ideas if im not asking too much

im sorry if this is a bit long (i decided to seperate it into two), thank you for taking the time to respond!

have a nice day :]

hi diva omg i love this lore ! also yup i have some ideas!!

i. PUY DE DÔME … FRANCE'S REMOTE VOLCANO. the weird myth of the creation of the solaire family circulated around for so many years now; if it was the truth or just a story used from the family to make their enemies scared, it's unknown.

when dragons used to fly in the skies, free, before the war (where legends such as merlin and morgana le fay assisted in, as enemies) there was a certain one different from others. the warlock morgana would spend her days with her, the two of them alone. the dragon wouldn’t fly, but instead she found her peace in the puy de dôme, a volcano situated in a long lost land where muggles – and other wizards – wouldn't step foot, scared that it would erupt. their peace was interrupted when the war against merlin started: morgana had to go away from the dragon in order to protect her, but before that she made a powerful spell: the love of a mother for her almost–child can generate incredible powersand spells, and this is what happened that day. if something bad would have happened to morgana during the war, the dragon wouldn't be alone.

and then, something bad happened to morgana. known as the evil witch in history, she was defeated by merlin and the dragon was now alone. but… the dragon felt it. she felt her mother die, and this made the spell that morgana did to her enter the game. the dragon's fire-breath made the puy de dôme erupt and, after the destruction of the land, something — or better, someone, came out of the volcano in the beautiful light of the sun. a young girl. created by the dragon–fire, one of the most ancient and powerful magic that ever existed, the young girl would have start a dynasty of people. the solaires. (note: you can script that fire doesn’t hurt you, but instead it’s like a second nature. it’s cool)

ii. SOLAIRES VS BLACKS. (even if you didn’t ask for it i have this idea and i can’t get it out of my head)

for as long as you could remember, you had been taught to never let your guard down with the family that lived across the river that separated the two manors. the solaires and the blacks had a feud that began centuries ago; they clashed in politics, over lands, academic grades and wars. their opinions had always been different, but each of them made the other's blood boil when they outdone the other in something. it was a constant battle of pride and chivalry, where hatred swept the veins of the two families, and neither could ever get close to the other without finding something unpleasant to say.

you believed your parents' words. you believed them when they said that the black family were vile and cruel, they treated their inferiors like trash and that they were not unusual at hurting their children when they did a mistake.

if you have a romance with one of the family (enemies to lovers!!’ arghhhhh!!!!) … in the dimly lit castle at night, your hearts would start beating in tune. in the fields full of students, you would always try to find each other. in the river that separated their manors, you would wonder why you couldn't just hate each other instead of having your brains tainted with emotions that would make you lose their minds.

forbidden feelings. blood boiling in your veins. ecstatic sighs. poison-tainted kisses. the line between love and hate was finer than you’d ever believed !!!

i hope this helped in any way 😝🙂‍↔️

[aroaessidhe]

2022 reads // twitter thread    

The Last Hero

end of the trilogy!

rebellion is burning across the solar system. secrets are uncovered as the war comes to a head

lots of POVs

mostly focused on platonic relationships

[clit-licker420]

rewatched mockingjay part one and jesus christ josh hutcherson does not get enough props for his performance. the moment when the video of katniss breaks through his broadcast and he sees her for a moment and suddenly everything else is gone, and they look at each other but can’t really see ???? the relationship between peeta and katniss is my favourite in ya because there is such real care behind it.

they were each other’s only true allies in TWO death games, they held each other to sleep through nightmares, even through the fake love story katniss and peeta always protected one another !! and in that moment peeta, tortured, probably in the early stages of hijacking, sees her face and hears her voice and it brings him to tears. and she sees the boy who has always protected her, who she swore to keep alive even if it meant her death and who got left behind when she was saved, beaten and starved and captive and calling out to her, and he warns her knowing it will lead to more torture.

and they are only seventeen and have spent so long in the cycle of saving each other and for one brief moment they see each other across the war, and katniss sees him suffer because she is the mockingjay. because she was rescued instead, because she is filming with 13, because this time she cannot protect him back, and even under the threat of the capital he saves her again

(i don’t think i’ll ever tire of this series. the hunger games has such an emotional and political core to it that so much of ya just wants to seem like it has. i understand why some people don’t care about katniss and peetas relationship, i personally despise the love triangle element, but i think they were handled so well by collins because it has such strong foundations of simply wanting to keep the other safe and genuine selfless care, it’s imo the most believable romance in the genre)

[skykashi]

Do you think Kakashi had romantic feelings for Rin? I know they were still just kids when she died, but it is for me so frustrating to see this character living his entire life crying for this loss and staying alone. Is it maybe because he loved her and he can replace her? Isn’t it too painful? I wish he could find some happiness with a love, not only helping the village and his students but nothing… He is just waiting his death to meet her again? And what about Obito? There is this issue in naruto universe that people dies but actually the are alive someway and can interact with the world 🤔this kinda makes the plot controverse… What do you think about it? Thank you.

Thank you for the ask

Tbqh, I don't really think Kakashi had romantic feelings for Rin and if he did, he never showed it. At that time Kakashi was deeply traumatized by what happened to Sakumo so he put his entire focus on trying to be the perfect Shinobi and prove that he won't fail like his dad did so he didn't give himself enough chance to think about anything else other than that, there was no room for romance or anything else.. and that kept dragging on with each new trauma, the poor man kept getting constantly hit with one tragedy after the other and so after Obito's death, that one goal changed from being the perfect Shinobi to protecting everyone and hoping for a better future where no one ever has to get hurt or die like his loved ones did... As much as I too, like you wished to see Kakashi having kids of his own, Kakashi himself gets his happiness from seeing the ppl he loves happy and at peace with their families which are like a family to him too. So yeah, I don't think he's single because he can't get over an old love or anything like that, he just feels content and fulfilled because he did achieve his only dream, his students and friends are fine and alive and happy and the ninja world finally found it's peace and learned to work together for a better future, that's all he ever wished for.

As for how ppl can interact with other ppl after their death, they aren't free to do that whenever they feel like it, no. When Obito died and talked Kakashi for the last time he explained that to Rin by saying that all chakras are connected somehow in the land of living so before he completely moved to the afterlife with the little remaining chakra he still had in the living world he can momentarily contact Kakashi, same thing goes for Minato and Kushina because Minato actually sealed a little bit of their chakra in Naruto before they died and so they were able to contact Naruto momentarily too when their seals were triggered, and same goes for Dan, Asuma and everyone that was reanimated in the war, when the reanimation Jutsu was released they only had a brief moment to talk to their loved ones with their chakra that was brought to the land of living by the reanimation Jutsu before they are forced to go back to the afterlife.

[sweetmage]

Click for full res!🌳

Middle aged man adventure!! Sebastian and Edan (my warden) are very close friends in their older years💖

By that point in my canon, Sebastian has matured and mellowed our significantly and is both a better and more just leader as well as a more open-minded and less angry/vengeful person. So they get on quite well!

They've both faced (and, in some ways, continue to face) a lot of similar circumstances and struggles so there is a deep understanding between them that they are hard-pressed to find elsewhere.

More (EXTREMELY longwinded) rambles about their shared experiences below the cut!

The below are just how things play out in my canon for them and are filtered through 50 layers of headcanons so, they are not not meant to he reflective of the actual canon or the "canon" set up in any mods mentioned.

Also TW for themes of violence/murder (as per canon), brief/vague mentions of torture, and brief discussion of addiction.

So anyway, of course the similaries begin early on. Each in their early twenties, they experiences the sudden massacre of their families at the hands of someone they trusted. Though Sebastian wasn't nearly as close to his family as Edan was, it didn't make the pain any less.

Resultingly, they both became consumed by a drive for vengeance until it was all they could see.

In my canon Sebastian eventually gave up on his quest to hunt Anders even though he never forgave him because he came to view his own actions as pointless and unjust. Killing Anders or bringing harm to other mages would not bring back his family and the plight of mages in Kirkwall and even in his own citystate were becoming hard to ignore.

Edan got his revenge against Howe (kinda) but it never satisfied him and, in the end, he was left shattered and staring at the bridges he'd burned along the way.

Both of them also faced a betrayal by someone they felt close to (which, tbh, came as a result of their own destructive actions) as well. Though it was never truly reciprocated in the same way (my Hawke saw him as merely an ally), Sebastian viewed my Hawke as his friend. He was one of the few people to validate his pain and anger and stand by him through his ongoing war with himself. However, it was not a question in Hawke's mind to spare and defend Anders that night in the Gallows and whatever loss Sebastian felt would not come in the way of that (to be fair, Hawke might have been his shoulder to cry on if he wasn't trying to convince him to uhh... kill his boyfriend...).

He also had a pretty decent relationship with Merrill who would not stand by and allow more bloodshed. Though they had their differences, Sebastian was better to her than Anders ever was, but she could not stand by and watch him be killed. She tried to reason with Sebastian but, when he wouldn't listen, she turned her back on him too and aided Hawke and Anders as she could.

In Edan's case, I play with the Ser Gilmore NPC mod so he romanced Roderick/Roland (I use Roderick in my canon). Roderick, his childhood friend and sweetheart, was the only person aside from himself to survive the attack on castle Cousland, but not without a great cost.

Tortured at the hands of Howe and his men, Roderick was left with severe and crippling trauma. Of course, this enraged Edan and pushed him further down the destructive path. So destructive, in fact, that Edan made a habit of probing him for more information on his trauma as a subconscious means of solidifying his resolve, all to the detriment of their relationship which began to break down until Roderick snapped and shut him out.

As the time to meet Howe drew near, Roderick began to behave strangely. He began to speak to him again, telling him earnestly how much he needed him to know that he loved and cared for him.

When, at last, they confronted Howe, Howe was quick to tell Edan about how Roderick has betrayed him. He refused to die honorably to protect him as the other soldiers had, he instead agreed to a deal to find Edan and bring him back in exchange for an end to his suffering.

Of course, Edan was already reeling from that revelation, but, before he could process, Howe began to speak cruelly of Edan’s parents causing Roderick to lash out and kill him, thus stealing Edan’s chance at revenge. The two did reconcile eventually and continue their (admittedly more healthy now) relationship, but they have both acknowledged that some things cannot be forgiven.

In my canon, both Seb and Edan struggle with addiction. Edan with lyrium which he began taking in secret when Alistair trained him, though he never actually became a templar and rarely used the powers (can read about that here if ya want), and Sebastian with alcoholism that developed when he returned to Starkhaven post-game (something that I HC was a vice from his distant past). They become a very good support system for each other in this regard. By the time they meet, Sebastian has been fully sober for some years, but he is one of several that encourage Edan to seek treatment for his lyrium addiction.

Of course there is also the obvious, they are both youngest sons of high nobilty who were never properly trained or prepared for the positions they'd soon take up. Sebastian's wife, Celestine, actually did a lot of pulling the strings behind the scenes at first while she trained him into competency. Edan had a pretty good team of advisors and has always had a very diplomatic mindset but the learning curve was still great. They commiserate about this a great deal.

Edan is Andrastian as well, but his time as a Warden has greatly impacted his world views. He has many friends and allies from all walks of life and has a low tolerance for discrimination and generalization. By this point, Sebastian has already significantly mellowed out from his DA2 levels of judgement though, and has admitted to himself that he does not, in fact, know everything and is far less likely to impose and keeps a more open mind to others. Still, any judgment that lingers Edan is quick to firmly point out and squash.

Edan still maintains a friendship with Anders from their time with the Wardens and regards him highly, even after the events of Kirkwall. Of course, he still sympathizes with Sebastian over over his loss and the two rarely discuss Anders (and vice versa, he rarely mentions Seb to Anders).

Though by this point Sebastian is married anyway, his friendship with Edan, an openly gay noble, has helped him confront and come to terms with his bisexuality and accept that part of him with less shame.

As it stands in my canon, Sebastian doesn't actually have any other friends aside from Celestine and their two children (Ellie and Finneas) before meeting Edan so they become quite close quickly and their friendship has a very positive impact on him.

They both have quite a love of fighting (I am always amused by Seb's fighting dialogue, man is screaming and having the time of his life out there lol), though they're happy to be off of real battle fields now. They enjoy sparring and occasionally participate in tournaments.

They also take short excursions from time to time when circumstances allow, both maintaining a spirit of adventure that they had to leave behind years ago when their big journeys ended.

They have a very close and intimate platonic relationship. They get vulnerable with each other, they have an extensive list of in-jokes, they write and visit frequently, they cuddle sometimes, they are referred to as "uncle" by their respective children, and are essentially like family to each other. 💖

[tamras-shieldmaiden]

Jinora and Ikki, for the character asks please! Oh, and Opal too! :D

Bob cut squad

1: sexuality headcanon 

Okay, so Jinora. I don’t have a defined sexuality headcanon for her but she strikes me as demisexual while I believe Ikki is ace. I think Opal is bi/pan but at the present she identifies as straight.

2: otp 

Jinora’s OTP is Kai. They look very cute together and I think they complement each other well. I don't have a romantic OTP for Ikki. For Opal, although I think her romance with Bolin is cute, I actually like the Korra/Opal pairing since their interactions while Korra was in Zaofu were brief but nice, but I’m not sure if it would be an OTP, so at the moment, her OTP is Bo.

3: brotp 

Jinora in canon has a great relationship with her aunt Kya and in a canon divergence AU, I believe she would strike an unexpected friendship with Kuvira because as I mentioned in my Kuvira headcanon, Kuvira enjoys the company of smart people and Jinora certainly fits the bill while Jinora is perceptive enough to see that underneath the aloof countenance, Kuvira has an awkward side to her that makes her relatable.

For Ikki, her brotp is her uncle Bumi. I think she would also get along well with Wei and Wing Beifong because they share the same carefree, energetic vibes.

Opal is Toph’s favorite grandkid and Toph makes absolutely no effort in hiding this fact, and it's fun to see cranky old Toph being protective and a softie for Opal. I think Opal would also get along very well with Asami. They have a lot in common if we think about it since they’re both rich girls from prominent families who have been underestimated.

4: notp 

Anything remotely incestuous is a big no-go for me for all three characters. I see those and I nope the hell away.

5: first headcanon that pops into my head 

Jiinora has been an avid reader since before she knew how to read well, and she would look at the pictures of the books fascinated. Once she learned how to read, which was earlier than most kids, she would spend hours in the library at Air Temple Island reading so much that she ended up memorizing the complete biographies of Yangchen and Aang. 

Ikki is the main Sky Bison caregiver, no doubt about it. She understands them so well that she can even predict which bison will bond with any Airbender.

Opal will eventually become master airbender and will earn her arrow tattoos before marrying Bolin, and she will eventually lead the new Air Nomads Temple in the Earth Kingdom. 

6: favorite line from this character 

Jinora: There haven't been this many airbenders in one place for a long time either. We have power together.

From Venom of the Red Lotus

What can I say? Jinora more than earned her Master tattoos here with her initiative and leadership.

Ikki: But, I guess the nice part about a family is they'll always be there for you. Even though Twinkle Starchild and Princess Rainbow fight, they still love each other. 

Book 2 Civil Wars part 2

Ikki, remembering what's most important

Opal: I'm glad you're okay, but it's a little late for "sorry". 

From Beyond the Wilds

Opal giving a piece of her mind to Bolin when he was trying to win her back never gets old. 😆

7: one way in which I relate to this character 

With Jinora is her love for books and learning. With Ikki I share the middle child syndrome, and what I can relate to with Opal is her strained relationship with a sibling.

8: thing that gives me secondhand embarrassment about this character 

Being related to Meelo 🤣

Opal: having to explain to everyone that her brother Baatar and Kuvira, who was raised as a "sister" were engaged. 😬

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

They’re all pure cinnamon rolls  😊

[kazimiierz]

I've kind of noticed a lack of these in the tag so I'm gonna write one up, gender neutral ofc (no formatting because I'm on mobile sorry):

Hellagur is a man of war, once walked the path of a general leading an army until it all fell apart with the death of his best friend which changed his life from dealing death to protecting life with his Azazel Clinic. Once aboard Rhodes Island he serves to protect all and above all else, Neon.

• you find that he's a gentle man above all the previous years of training this man has endured and dealt on the end of that impressive weapon he carries with him. Around the younger operators the usual stalwart face on the battlefield turns tender as he ensures their wellbeing. You can't help but feel a twinge of joy seeing this man work well with everyone!

• he's fond of everyone around him, even indulging in listening to the Ursus student council at times when they permit him council (at times the two forces are wary due to how Ursus has treated them both but came to find a comfort in training) he can also be found with Kal'tsit on the odd chance discussing medical paperwork over some of his former patients that were discharged into Rhodes Island's care. However the only time you have ever found him alone felt like a fleeting chance because the Liberi is always surrounded by company.

• when you do find the rare chance at approaching him alone Hellagur appraises you wondering if something had come up for him to be approached privately but you explain you just wanted to get to know the former general more at a time that best suited the atmosphere. He sits you down and prepares tea, surprisingly the way most do on the ship as you had remarked he seemed more refined but Hellagur merely rebuffs that it's easier to acclimate to the standard Rhodes carries than a higher one. Maintenance of image is better left to those in higher positions, a nod to Amiya and her speeches that were proofread by none other than him.

• at length he tells stories, of what he's seen that echoes the Reunion battles they currently are met with. Of past loves, brief like snubbed candles and even regaled about his position on how he was receiving it felt more like a party than a somber event. For what seemed like hours merely was shared between you and him as if time held no meaning.

• more private occasions were met with shared discussions of tactics and other merits before finally, more personal talk. Discussions of Amiya and Neon, both seen as adopted family in the eyes of the other with a warm fondness for their growth. It was something that lowered your guard and his as well, allowing each other a little closer.

• between the walls your relationship would grow past operator and director, it would simply be a budding romance between two people. He'd oft remark that it was odd for someone like you to be interested in someone his age, but your rebuff was he was just the right person you were looking for. Age mattered not, with war life could be short and feelings between two people shouldn't be limited to life or death. His charisma and charm weren't without the help of his gentle kindness to aid the slow burning fire of your affections towards him

• however it wasn't to say he didn't have more experience than you (or did you have experience before the amnesia? No one would be around to tell you) his kisses, albeit hidden from most as if it were a quick examination to ensure you weren't damaged from the combat drill or the battlefield, were warm like the honey he stirred into your tea. A slight tilt of your chin and his lips met yours briefly as if to ensure you hadn't forgotten, amber orbs watching yours reflect back in earnest of the quiet moment before letting go. His height will tower over you (he stands at an impressive 6'3) or he will simply be met by other means. Alone you're met with his hands gracing yours to hold, scarred by time and the rough callouses reminding you of how long he's held that weapon even with gloves on. Your ears always are the first to be whispered sweet allure into before administering a kiss just on the temple, he's relatively keen at keeping his hand locked in yours or your habit of keeping his hand between both your hands just to know he's there still if you fell asleep.

• eventually you begin to notice a simple silver band whenever his gloves are removed after battle, as he conducts his words with his hands if passionately talking it glints in the light to catch you to notice, and if he noticed you looking well, he knows how you deduced it's origin.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 5

Request: Yes or No

TW: Pietro dying imsosorry

I'm still unsure about love interests but I'm leaning towards Wanda and y/n having a brief romance and then Wanda goes to Vis and y/n goes to Bucky or someone else.

~

Sokovia was chilly but not too cold. It reminded you of the orphanage. Depressing, quiet, and not much interaction between the people around. You weren't surprised. War and bombs weren't something to celebrate. You directed people down the street with Clint, seeing some red energy moving around the streets as Wanda got to the civilians inside their homes. People slowly drove out of the city.

"All these people.. What happens if the city's destroyed?" You asked, frowning as you watched the mothers urge their children to walk faster and the elderly couples help each other.

"Well.. They'll find new homes somewhere else." Clint replied. You turned your head, making eye contact with Wanda. She frowned at Clint's words but stayed silent, looking away from you. You turned your head, hearing shouting and screaming.

"Shit." You whispered, feeling the roots wrap around your fingers. Wanda made a shield with her powers, buying time for the civilians around her to run. She grunted, falling to the ground. You quickly helped her up, hearing her whisper a thanks. You raised your hand, making the root shoot out and impale the robots head. You made a fist so the roots wrapped around the head, swinging your arm to the side and flinging it towards more robots. Wanda gave you a nod before walking away, helping some civilians up. You turned when an arrow whizzed past your head, breathing out a soft sigh.

"Unnecessary."

"It looked cool." Clint grinned. You rolled your eyes, approaching him. You felt the ground begin to tremble under your feet, the screaming getting louder.

"Clint?" You heard Ultron speaking through the robots.

"Stay next to me." Clint said, raising his bow and shooting an arrow at a robot. You nodded, raising your arms. The roots shoot out, wrapping around the neck of a robot and squeezing until the head shot up, making the body go limp. Wanda shot down one robot though you could see the fear in her eyes. She didn't know what to do and it was obvious. You looked up, seeing more robots flying in. Clint suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist, doing the same to Wanda and jumping through a window to avoid an explosion. He quickly sat up while Wanda whimpered and whispered panicked things under her breath.

"Wanda? Wanda, hey." You crawled towards her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. Clint frowned, scooting closer.

"You alright?" He asked gently.

"This is all our fault." She whimpered, hands trembling as she took in sharp breaths.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Clint called, watching her look at him with teary eyes.

"It's your fault, it's our fault, who cares? Are you up to this?" Clint asked, staring at her. Wanda didn't respond, still taking in quick breaths as her gaze flickered around.

"Look, I just need to know cause the city is flying."

"If you can't do this, you can leave with the civilians." You told her, gently rubbing her back.

"Look, the city is flying, we're fighting an army of robots, I have a bow and arrow, and (Y/N) is Mother Nature. None of this makes sense." Clint told her, grunting when the wall was shot at. Wanda flinched, leaning more against you.

"I can't do my job and babysit more than two people, okay?" You blinked at Clint's words, scoffing softly.

"It doesn't matter what you did or who you were. If you can't, stay here and I'll get your brother to come find you but if you step out that door, you are an Avenger." Clint said. Wanda stayed silent, thinking about his words. Clint stood up, getting three arrows ready.

"You coming?" Clint cocked a brow, kicking the doors open and stepping out. Wanda watched him go before meeting your eyes.

"You can do this, Wanda. Where's the girl who was able to put half of the Avengers out of commission?" You gave her a small smile. Wanda swallowed, hands clenching and unclenching.

"I-I'm scared."

"I am too. So is Clint, Cap, and everybody else. You know who's even more terrified? The civilians running around without a clue about what's going on. We have to ignore our fear in order to protect them because they're defenseless." You placed your hands on her shoulders, feeling her trembling. You gave her shoulders a squeeze. You noticed a small flower in the cracks of the floor, moving your hand over it and watching it grow. You plucked it from the ground, placing it into her shakey hands.

"You'll be okay." You stood up, feeling her gaze on you as you exited the building. You swallowed, hands tingling as you searching for roots underground. You found some, raising your hand and watching them shoot up from the ground, wrapping around some of the robots flying. They wrapped around them, making them explode. You turned your head, seeing Wanda outside. She took out three robots at once, panting softly and turning towards you and Clint. You relaxed, the ground shaking gently as the roots from underground retreated back down.

"We're all clear." Clint said.

"We are not clear. We are not clear at all." Steve responded, voice strained. You hummed, chuckling softly. A flash ran by, picking up Wanda.

"Keep up, old man!" Pietro called as he ran. Clint clenched his jaw, raising an arrow.

"Nobody would know." He muttered, thinking it over as you laughed softly. A gust of wind went by again before you were picked up as well.

"Oh, fuck me-" You held onto Pietro, eyes shutting as you felt the wind hitting you. You could hear Clint mumbling things about Pietro, calling him a quick little bastard. Pietro set you down besides Wanda, a hand on your back as you stumbled a bit.

"I forgot I had a bagel for breakfast." You whispered, finding your footing.

"You'll get used to it." Wanda said with a chuckle. She walked forward, hands glowing red.

"No, no, I don't think I will." You replied, raising your hand at a robot. You blinked when the ground suddenly opened beneath the robot, causing it to fall in.

"That's new." You mumbled, surprised as you closed your fist, the ground returning to normal. Pietro grunted when he was grazed by a bullet. The robots stopped momentarily so you and the twins quickly rounded up as many civilians as possible. You heard Natasha and Steve talking before hearing Fury. You spotted the aircrafts, letting out a sigh of relief. You directed the people to the aircrafts, watching them get on.

"Avengers, time to work for a living." Tony called. You walked back to the center, seeing the others. You turned to face Ultron, adrenaline pumping. You were definitely gonna take a nap once the mission was over.

"Is that the best you can do?!" Thor shouted at Ultron. In response, Ultron raised his arm, hundreds of robots running and flying in. Your shoulders slumped as Steve looked at Thor.

"You had to ask." He muttered.

"This is the best I can do." Ultron replied, smugness in his voice.

"This is exactly what I wanted. All of you against all of me. How could you possibly hope to stop me?" Ultron asked.

"Well.. Like the old man said.. Together?" Tony answered, hearing Hulk let out a cry. The center was quickly swarmed, robots coming in from above and the sides. You raised your arms and pulled apart, making the ground open.

"(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?"

"No clue but it's new and it's working." You glanced at Clint, bringing your arms together and crushing the robots stuck in the ground. Tony, Tony Jr, and Thor took care of Ultron while you and the others continued to fight. The robots began to retreat, giving you time to breath.

"You guys get to the boats. The air's getting thin." Steve ordered, looking over everyone.

"What about the core?" Clint asked.

"I'll protect it." Wanda announced, looking at Clint. "It's my job."

"Stay safe." You told her, brows raising. Wanda nodded.

"I will, Mother Nature." Wanda smiled softly. You returned the smile, following Natasha and Clint to a convertible. You got in the back, listening to Clint talk about some new plans for the home as he drove.

"Laura deserves a vacation." You called, staring up at the sky.

"That's what I've been saying! We need to go on an all girl vacation." Natasha said, earning a chuckle from you. You got out of the car, hearing Hulk grunting. Natasha quickly got out to go find him. You noticed a woman calling out for someone, frowning. Clint looked around for any movement, noticing a child stuck in the rubble.

"Clint-"

"Stay here." He instructed, getting off the boat and jogging towards the kid. You frowned, watching him. You heard gunshots, looking up and watching an aircraft shoot down, aiming right at Clint.

"Clint!" You screamed, getting off the boat and running towards him. You came to a slow stop, watching as Pietro's body fell over. You slowly walked towards him, getting down beside him. You pressed two trembling fingers to his neck but found no pulse. You looked at Clint through watery eyes, shaking your head. You swallowed, remembering the time when you were a child and healed an injured cat. You hovered your hand over one of the bullet holes, watching the root reach down but nothing happened. You frowned, feeling tears slip down your cheeks. You hadn't known him for long but you were looking forward to having a new friend.

"I'm sorry." You heard Steve's voice gently say, resting a hand on your shoulder. You sniffled and stood, watching Steve pick up his body and take him to a boat. You followed, mind blank. You knew death came with the job but Pietro had years ahead of him. Clint reunited the child with his mother, grunting as he took a seat. You did the same, staring down at his body. Clint lied down, resting his head on your lap.

"You don't have to become an Avenger, (Y/N)." Clint grunted softly. You swallowed, shaking your head.

"I'm just gonna need a therapist." You whispered, hearing Clint laugh softly.

~~~~~~~~~~

You smiled, watching the video of Nathaniel playing with the toy you bought him. Wanda looked over your shoulder, cooing softly.

"Is that him?" She asked softly. You nodded, chuckling.

"Nathaniel Pietro Barton." You cooed, watching him. Wanda hummed, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Hey, love birds." Sam greeted with a teasing grin. You looked up at him, rolling your eyes as Wanda shook her head.

"We aren't a couple." She reminded him.

"Mhm." Sam nodded slowly, sounding and looking completely unconvinced. You turned off your phone, looking over his outfit. Sam noticed, hands going to his hips.

"Looks dope, right?" He grinned, nodding to himself.

"So.. All you do is fly?" You asked, watching his face drop when Rhodes cracked up.

"Yes, I fly. That's.. That's cool, right?" Sam asked, looking at the others. You shrugged, giving him a playful smile.

"I mean.. He can fly, Vision can fly, Wanda can fly..." You trailed off, chuckling at his scowl. You stood up, nodding.

"Yes, it is cool that you can fly, Wilson. I'm just messing with you." You said, putting your phone away. You turned your head when Steve and Natasha entered.

"Avengers, assemble!" He called, code words for get in line. You walked forward, standing beside Vision and Wanda. Natasha met your gaze, smiling.

"Did you see the video?" She mouthed, clearly excited. You gave her a small nod, smiling softly.

"(Y/N), Dr. Cho wants to talk with you after training. She has some theories she wants to run by you." Steve told you, heading down the steps and standing in front of the line. You nodded. After Hulk disappeared, Dr. Cho had approached you to finally run those tests. You still had no idea what triggered your new ability to open up the ground and it was something you had to work on during training.

"Let's begin." Natasha crossed her arms, a grin on her lips. You swallowed, watching her. You shared a glance with Wanda, being sent off to different spots in order to show off everyone's abilities.

"Let's start with you, Barton." Steve said, standing infront of you as Natasha placed down a pot with dirt. You lifted your hands, humming softly and taking a step back. Steve and Natasha hesitantly did the same. You made a fist, watching the bonsai tree burst up, overgrown and roots spilling over the pot. The roots moved, movements following your fingers.

"How are you doing with your other abilities?" Steve asked, watching the roots. You swallowed, looking at him.

"Still working on it." You answered, lowering your hands. The tree retracted back into the pot. Laura had mentioned that if there was more to your powers, you could end up being the most powerful person on Earth. You just needed to figure out how to control them at any given moment. The two moved onto Wanda. You watched her show off her abilities. Pietro would be proud of her. You thought about him a lot. The way he sacrificed himself for Clint and the child. How broken Wanda looked.

You turned your head as the boat landed, watching people get out and be tended to by medics. Clint got up, leaving the boat as well with soft grunts. You spotted Wanda, relieved she had gotten to safety before the rock exploded. Wanda silently got on the boat, expression blank until she saw her brother. Her brows slightly raised, eyes watering as she gently got on the ground beside him. Soft sobs left her as she raised his head and placed it on her lap, gently running her fingers through his hair. Tears ran down her dirt and ash covered cheeks. You sat down beside her, wrapping gentle arms around her and pulling her against your body. Her sobs turned into cries. She cried until she couldn't anymore, letting them take away the body. She stared blankly at the spot where his body had lied, sniffling.

"I'm alone." She whispered. "I have no one."

"You have me."

[im-no-jedi]

MLWTBB: First Time For Everything

aka the (continued) journey into my self insert nonsense✨

chapter summary: Hunter single-handedly fights off some of Eldya’s droids, including one very unique from the rest...

notes: this is a continuation of my story, “My Life With The Bad Batch”; I highly recommend reading that first before this one! I created a few new planets for this story. I’m also not 100% versed in SW terminology, so forgive me if some things are labeled incorrectly! each chapter will be rated accordingly, as opposed to the overall fic. lastly, there is romance in this story. hope you enjoy! 💙

add. notes: this chapter was edited and proofread by my sis @jam-n-ham! thanks sis!! 😋💙

Chapter 12, 3800+ words, rated T (gun violence, physical violence, and destruction; it’s a Hunter chapter what did you expect 😝)

previous chapters: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11

next chapter

✨MLWTBB masterlist✨

______________________________________________________________

It wasn’t easy being a soldier. Putting your own life at risk for the sake of protecting others was something most people would never willingly choose. But not all soldiers get a choice. The Clones of Jango Fett certainly didn’t. It’s what they were created for, after all. But things were different now. The war was over. Sure, most of the Clones still served under the Empire for the sake of protecting the peace. But not all of them lived that life anymore. The Bad Batch certainly didn’t. They’d chosen to leave and start a new life outside of war and the Empire.

Which made it all the more ironic that Hunter was currently on the run from a group of hostile droids.

He’d been running from them for a while now, having chosen to be the main distraction while everyone else focused on other things. His brief encounter with Hannah had been one of the few moments he’d gotten away from them, thankfully. It was still a wonder he’d been managing so well without any weapons whatsoever. But then again, he was pretty good at dodging any dangers that came his way. Quite literally when it came to the blaster fire he was currently on the receiving end of.

Only three of them were on his tail, which wouldn’t have been a big deal normally. And it probably wouldn’t have been so bad had he still been in the large grand assembly. But he’d taken a venture outside into the surrounding halls to search for the head droid Hannah had told him about, and it didn’t take long for him to encounter the three currently chasing him down.

To call it a chase was a stretch though. The droids moved fairly slow, about as fast as the B2 Super Battle Droids he’d fought many times before during the war. If anything, Hunter was gradually leading them down the hall, using himself as bait. He knew he had a better chance to fight them off in the grand assembly, as there was barely any place to hide in the hall they were currently in.  

Eventually, Hunter made it back to the chamber that led into the grand assembly. The giant doors to the assembly were still open, and he nearly ran straight inside, but an idea crossed his mind. There might be a way to take them all out without them even stepping foot inside the assembly.

With blaster fire still aimed in his direction, Hunter leapt to the side and stayed at the edge of the hall, waiting for the droids to get closer. As soon as the first one stepped into the chamber, Hunter jumped onto it and used his own weight to swing the droid around in the opposite direction, back at the others. The droid was still firing its blasters, and in the process of being swung around, it gunned down one of the other droids before attempting to grab at Hunter. It barely had time to switch its hands out before the other still standing droid began firing, attempting to hit Hunter. But Hunter was too quick and swung off the droid, sliding between its legs as it was gunned down by the last standing droid.

There was just the one left now. Hunter briefly looked back at it to make sure it was still following him, then quickly began making his way for the large doorway. Blaster fire continued to barely graze his armor as he stepped into the grand assembly. The droid advanced towards the doorway, with Hunter staying off to the side to avoid the blaster fire.  

As soon as the droid’s foot was in the doorway, Hunter slammed the panel for the doors, nearly crushing the controls. The massive doors began sliding shut and didn’t stop until the sentry droid was wedged between them, slowly being crushed by the weight of the doors.

“Karkin’ safety hazard,” Hunter huffed as the droid twitched and sparked from in-between the doors.

Chest heaving from exhaustion, Hunter slowly slid down the wall and practically plopped onto the floor. Finally, he could take a moment to catch his breath. Even while wearing his bandana, he had beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face and lifted his helmet to wipe them off. A slight taste of blood was in his mouth, and he realized he’d accidentally bitten his own lip during that scuffle with the droids. He was used to the taste of blood and didn’t even give it another thought.

He knew he probably didn’t have long to rest. But in that moment of respite, Hunter reminded himself of why he was doing what he was doing. It was the same reason he did anything, really. He’d realized long ago, even before the war was over, that his motivation and loyalty belonged to his family. Of course he’d had loyalty to the Republic before too. But it was secondary to those closest to him. If anything, the creation of the Empire had only further proved that fact.

He may have been created for war, but Hunter knew his life meant nothing if he couldn’t take care of and protect his family. They were his life.

Hannah’s words from earlier suddenly crossed his mind, and he let out a small sigh. “I want you to be safe too.” At the time, he couldn’t fully express his feelings. But it had genuinely touched him to hear that from her, as unusual as it was. He knew she blamed herself for what had happened on Volruna. But it wasn’t her fault. If anything, it was his fault for letting her get to that point in the first place.

He’d nearly lost her that day too, after all. The memory was foggy, but he could remember seeing Hannah at the edge of that scaffolding with a blaster pointed at her face by Vin Drazundr. Through sheer willpower, Hunter had powered through his life-threatening injury and delivered a killing shot to that devilish man, the fool who’d tried to kill the woman he cared for so deeply. And he’d do it again if that’s what it took to protect her.

Perhaps that’s what Hannah had meant earlier as well. But... why?

Suddenly, something caught Hunter’s attention. He’d been tracking the droids and could identify them immediately by that point, and it sounded like there were a couple of them nearby. One was somewhere behind the stage and another somewhere in the highest balconies. Even though it would be easier to deal with the one behind the stage, it would be more trouble dealing with the one from the balconies from his position. He decided to take care of that one first.

By then, Hunter knew several ways of getting up to the balconies. He started by parkouring off a table to get to the closest balcony, then took one of the connecting stairways to get up one level higher. The droid was one more level up from what he could gather, although he hadn’t seen it yet. He decided to go the parkour route again and leapt off a table, this time grabbing onto a large wall sconce before leaping up onto the balcony.

There was still no droid to be seen. He could hear it though. And it was close.

As still as a statue, Hunter maintained his position and waited until the droid came into sight. To anyone else, the room would’ve sounded deathly silent. But the sound of approaching metallic footfalls was clearly hitting Hunter’s ears.

Like earlier, the large form of a sentry droid entered into the room, unaware of the man standing directly off to the side. And like before, Hunter leapt like a frog onto the droid’s back in an attempt to confuse it. Which he easily succeeded in doing. The droid began spinning around, trying to grab at Hunter, but its hands never found purchase. In the process, the droid stumbled over one of the nearby chairs and an entire table, with Hunter still stuck on its back. It was quickly headed for the edge of the balcony, just like Hunter had hoped. The droid flailed around a bit more before eventually flopping over the balcony, the weight of its massive upper torso quickly sending it over the edge without resistance. Hunter managed to grab the edge of the balcony before the droid toppled over and watched as it fell to the floor with a massive thud, instantly shutting down.  

The edge of the balcony was less stable than Hunter had thought though. The weight of the droid had crushed part of it, and the rest was on the verge of breaking from Hunter’s own weight now hanging off of it. It might’ve still been possible for him to swing up over the edge like he’d planned, but it was risky.

Then something else entirely suddenly caught the corner of Hunter’s eye. Movement from the stage. Another large figure stepping into view. The second droid had now emerged, probably from hearing the ruckus. It hadn’t noticed Hunter yet, but there was no doubt it would soon.

Hunter’s grip on the balcony edge was firm, but the edge itself was continuing to bend. He was running out of time and low on options. The only things he could see from where he was were the balcony he was hanging from, the floor far below him, the stage where the droid stood, and... the large chandelier hanging directly across from the balcony.

Oh boy. It was a stupid idea, but definitely not the stupidest one he’d ever had. Maybe.

Almost like it had heard how foolish the idea was, the droid finally noticed the man hanging off the balcony and began aiming at him. Hunter swung his legs back and forth to gain momentum, the balcony edge creaking the entire time. And just as the droid started firing, Hunter used the momentum to swing off the balcony and fly towards the chandelier.

Without issue, Hunter was able to grab one of the low hanging crystals of the chandelier and clung to it, wrapping his legs around the long crystal so he wouldn’t slip. He only had a moment to relish in his success before the droid continued its barrage of blaster fire. Like a primate swinging between branches, Hunter started making his way from crystal to crystal in an attempt to get to the other side. It was a hard enough feat to accomplish, but the blaster fire from the droid was also ricocheting off the crystals in all directions. A few of the crystals were blasted off entirely, falling to the floor below and shattering spectacularly.

Only one of the shots managed to hit Hunter, leaving a searing hole in one of his shoulder pads. Thankfully, his actual shoulder avoided any injury, but he knew he couldn’t risk another hit like that. The other side of the chandelier was getting close, which was going to bring about another problem. It was too far to any of the other balconies, and it would take a pretty decent swing to get to the other nearest chandelier.  

Then the problem began to worsen. The combined weight of Hunter hanging from it and the blaster fire from the droid were causing one of the chandelier’s supports to loosen.  

“Oh kriffin’ hell,” Hunter cursed to himself, still clinging to one of the crystals.

One more shot from the droid was all it took to break the support. Hunter was suddenly bombarded by a barrage of the large crystals as the chandelier fell to one side. It took all of Hunter’s strength to stay clung to the one crystal as he was continually smacked around due to the now sideways swinging chandelier.

The other support wasn’t going to last long. Hunter had to act quickly. He got another stupid idea, but at that point, anything would’ve been better than falling to the ground.

Using the momentum of the already swinging chandelier, Hunter swung his own body back as hard as he could. Then as the chandelier swung forward and broke from its last support, Hunter released his grip and went flying through the air. Both he and the chandelier crashed simultaneously, with him hitting the side of one of the balconies while the chandelier spectacularly crashed onto the floor below, sending shards of crystals flying in all directions.

Hunter had latched onto the balcony at the last second and had gotten the wind knocked out of him. He took a moment to let his vision clear before pulling himself up onto the balcony. “Stupid idea, still alive,” he huffed, leaning against the edge for support.

Unfortunately, he had completely forgotten about the droid still shooting at him. The droid’s aim still wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough to land a few blows right at the section of the balcony where Hunter was leaning against. Hunter reacted quick enough to avoid any injury, but not enough to avoid losing his balance. He cursed loudly as he once again found himself hanging off the edge of a balcony, only this time there was nowhere to go but down.  

In an effort to avoid the blaster fire, Hunter released his grip and fell to the floor, crashing onto one of the large tables.

The blaster fire stopped. Thinking its prey was now dead, the droid went back to patrolling the stage.

“Dumb droid,” Hunter grumbled to himself as he quietly rolled off the remains of the table. There was a throbbing pain now in his side from the impact, but not bad enough to hinder him.

Still keeping quiet, Hunter peeked around the table’s remains to get a better look at the single droid causing so many problems. It turned out that it was doing more damage than he initially thought. Shimmery gold stripes decorated the droid’s massive shoulders, and Hunter’s eyes went wide with realization. It was highly, highly likely that this was the head droid.

Time to finally end this, Hunter thought to himself, and he began carefully and quietly making his way over to the stage. Along the way, he picked up a small, sharp piece of metal that had broken off the chandelier to use as a makeshift weapon.

Without issue, Hunter made it up onto the stage, with the droid completely oblivious to his presence. Hunter kept the piece of metal clutched in his hand, ready to strike as soon as he got close enough.

A shattering noise suddenly caught both of their attentions. A crystal from one of the other chandeliers had fallen, most likely from getting blasted earlier. Hunter used that opportunity to go for the droid while it was distracted.

The droid lurched forward as Hunter jammed the makeshift weapon into its back. Its armor was tough, but the metal still pierced it. If someone like Wrecker had done it, the droid would’ve malfunctioned from the impact, easily. But it seemed that Hunter had managed to just wedge the metal into its back without much damage done. Not only that, but the metal seemed to be stuck as Hunter struggled to pull the piece out while the droid did its best to try and grab at him.

Eventually, Hunter was able to yank the metal piece back out, just as the droid swung around, knocking Hunter over with one of its long arms. The droid began advancing on him, hands now switched out to blasters. Before it could take a single shot, Hunter grabbed a nearby light projector in the floor and turned it around in an attempt to blind the droid. It worked, and the droid began randomly firing at the floor, missing Hunter completely.

The piece of metal wasn’t as sharp as his vibroblade, but Hunter was still able to take a good swipe at the droid’s left blaster and damaged it enough to render it unusable. As the droid turned to shoot at him, Hunter parkoured off the back wall to get to the other side of the droid. But he nearly slipped on a broken piece of crystal as he landed and was knocked down by the droid’s arm again.  

Now the droid was trying to smash him, having given up on using its blasters. Hunter rolled around to avoid getting hit, eventually sliding himself between the droid’s legs to get behind it. But as he came to his feet, Hunter felt one of his legs get grabbed by the droid. He tried to break free, but the droid’s grip was too tight. With a hefty hurl, the droid chucked Hunter into the back wall, knocking him for a loop.  

Everything was spinning. Hunter just saw a big gray blur reaching down for him and could do nothing to stop it. Now held up by an arm, Hunter tried to focus on what was happening. By the time his vision was restored, he realized the droid had its other blaster pointed straight at him.  

There was no way for him to break free from the droid’s grasp. But he didn’t need to.

With a loud grunt of effort, Hunter used his free hand to jab the piece of metal he still held straight into the barrel of the blaster. The droid’s arm sparked and shivered, and it released its grip on Hunter. Hunter began scooting away from the droid as it aimed its blaster at him, but it backfired and blew the entire arm off.

An audible thud resounded through the large room as the head droid hit the floor of the stage, unmoving.

Hunter practically collapsed on the floor in relief. “I... hate... droids,” he griped as he tried to catch his breath.

He only rested for a few minutes before going over to inspect the now dead droid. It didn’t appear to be much different aside from the golden stripes on its shoulders, but there was no doubt in Hunter’s mind that it was the head droid. Instinctually, Hunter attempted to contact the others to let them know what had happened, but he’d forgotten his helmet was still busted and let out a sigh. He needed to find them, but by the stars was he tired.

For the first time since he’d gotten there, Hunter let out a chuckle. The scolding voice of Hannah telling him to “take it easy” and “don’t work yourself so hard” came to mind, and he couldn’t help but smile. He’d told her the same things before, of course, and she’d given him a similar nonchalant response. It had always fascinated him how different the two of them were, but more so how similar they were. And because of that, he thought she was a perfect match for him.

If only his thoughts from earlier didn’t continue to plague his mind...

Suddenly, Hunter heard something at one of the doors. It sounded like something, or someone, trying to get the door open. He couldn’t one hundred percent pinpoint who or what it was though, so he took a defensive position behind the body of the head droid. Hopefully it wasn’t another threat of some kind...

***************************

“Go, go!! Keep running!!”

Things had taken a turn for the worse after Hannah took it upon herself to lead Sneech and his small group of other servants to safety. At first, it seemed as though all the droids had stayed further in the building. But they’d accidentally come across several of them in the main hall and were now on the defensive. Hannah was still the only one with a weapon and was focused on drawing the droids’ fire while the others ran for their lives.

“You’ll never be able to take on all of these droids by yourself!” Sneech protested, hiding behind a large decorative pot.

“And you don’t stand a chance at all!” Hannah shouted back before firing a few shots back at the droids. “Just go and make sure the others get out of here!”

Whether it was fear or genuine concern that was keeping Sneech from listening to her, Hannah didn’t know. All she knew was that Sneech was probably right. But it didn’t matter. If this is what it took to protect the others, then she would do it. Even if she was constantly lamenting past decisions in the back of her mind.

“Next time the boys offer me blaster lessons, I’m saying yes,” she thought to herself as she let off a few more shots.

Then all of a sudden, the firing stopped. All at once, the droids went slack, the glowing red of their eyes now dimmed. They had shut down.

“It appears one of your friends has succeeded in destroying the head droid!” Sneech exclaimed.

Hannah practically collapsed against the wall. Her vision blurred for a moment as she felt like she could finally relax in what felt like forever.

One of the nearby doors suddenly opened, spooking Hannah enough that she nearly shot whatever was about to emerge. A large gray figure appeared in the hall... but it wasn’t a droid.

“Hannah!!” The loud, boisterous voice of Wrecker exclaimed as he threw his hands in the air excitedly.  

Immediately, he rushed over to her and scooped her up in his arms, swinging her around as he hugged her. She went into a joyful fit of laughter and practically squeezed the life out of him from how hard she hugged his neck.

“Looks like you managed to help after all,” came the voice of Echo, who walked up beside them. As soon as Wrecker set Hannah down, she rushed over to Echo and flung her arms around him in a tight hug, much to his surprise.

“Echo, you’re my best friend in the entire galaxy,” Hannah breathlessly stated, clutching the sides of Echo’s helmet. “Sorry, I just wanted to tell you that.”

Hannah couldn’t see it, but Echo was both blushing and smiling happily.

“So which one of these was the head one?” Wrecker said, poking at one of the dead droids.

“None of them,” Sneech answered. “I assumed one of you was responsible for offing it.”

Echo immediately contacted Omega and Tech to see what their situation was. Apparently, they were in a similar place, fending off some droids who randomly stopped operating. “We assumed it was one of you who had done the deed,” Tech stated.  

“It must’ve been Hunter!” Omega added. “Wherever he is...”

“Wait, he’s not with you?” Hannah worriedly questioned into her own comlink.

“No...” Omega solemnly replied. “We never got to him before running into those droids...”

That was all Hannah needed to hear. Immediately, she broke into a run down the hall, ignoring whatever was being shouted at her from the others. They would be fine. But she had to find Hunter.