#and the worst part of it it's probably this... being shoved around bases
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the way I always go straight from flying with brasilia based crews into a depressive episode
#the chief purser is so fucking mean and passive agressive#I don't even wanna go into details#but god I hope I never see him again#I just want this to be over. we have one more leg to brasilia and then they'll be done and I'll go to the hotel#which I'll probably just use to cry myself to sleep lol#this job is so hard#when I got here a lot of people told me sometimes the good money simply ain't worth it and I didn't think that could possibly be true#but I see now. I'm exhausted all the time. I never see my family. I'm not a beach person so I rarely leave my hotel#and the worst part of it it's probably this... being shoved around bases#just because I was called during home stand-by#the fact that there's such a huge divide between the way são paulo based crew and brasilia based crew treat each other is just crazy to me#we're literally doing the same job. when did they get so mean. and most importantly why#I hate it here#rambles*
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Hi, could you do an Aemond one shot where he and Reader (Rhaenyra's bastard daughter) are husband and wife and she and Aemond are married, based on the first episode of season 2 where instead of killing Aegon's son, kill the reader's son and aemond
a.n: hi hi ty for the request 🫶 i had a little too much fun writing this, this probably isnt what you wanted this is not a happy fic but i still hope you enjoy regardless 🫶🫶 slightly inspired by the events of ep two
Despite the halls of the keep being pure chaos everyone swiftly moved out of the way for the one eyed prince who rushed through the halls seeking out the one who he knew needed him.
They had been in his room. They wanted him. But they must have left his room when they knew he was not there and stumbled their way into the nursery which was attached to his room where his son had been. His son. his only child. and he was furious.
The door to the council room slams open and otto swiftly turns to look and stand before him, “where have you been-“ otto is shoved out of his way as he goes to kneel next to his sobbing wife on the floor who was clutching a blanket on the floor.
You look at him with red eyes and choke out his name, he grabs your face in his hands and looks upon you for a moment before you throw yourself into his arms. Shoving your head in his neck to breathe in his scent, to feel his pulse, make sure he’s real.
“they killed our son.” your words come out choked in between your sobs and he strokes up and down your back, “i tried to offer them anything, gold, myself, but they only wanted him aemond only him.” he shushes you and pressed a kiss against your temple, speaking into your ear. “Im sorry my love im sorry.”
He will return the pain they have brought to not only himself but worst of all to his wife and he will pay it tenfold. A lone tear streaks down his face as you say nothing more merely continue to sob into him while the other faces in the room can only merely watch with sorrow.
He picks you up, making sure to keep the blanket firmly in your grasp as he turns to leave the room ignoring the voices calling after him. They must want to discuss what they plan to do now but he wants no part in it, only wanting to comfort his wife.
“they were saying they want to blame my mother.” You had calmed down at some point, still delirious with grief but you had stopped crying, merely staring blankly up at the ceiling as aemond kept you firmly next to him. “she would never do a thing like this. my mother loves me, why would she send someone out for my son.”
Aemond is quiet and his hand on your back falters for a moment, “she wishes to punish me.” you say nothing but he notices how you shift ever so slightly.
With the way you two were right now nobody could tell the two of you have not spoken in those fourteen days since his return when he broke the news to the court. When he broke the news to you. Your own brother murdered in cold blood.
You could never forgive him despite his attempts to talk to you after, you swiftly dismissed him and his words would fall on deaf ears. Your baby brother was everything to you, you remember growing up side by aide and he was teary eyed the day you permanently moved to the keep.
despite your hatred for him and your hatred for your mothers usurpation you cannot go home. The people here watch you like a hawk you cannot even send a letter out to her but alicent is free to beg and plead to her like a pathetic dog. you hate them. Yet you allow him to comfort you because you know you will get no comfort from anyone else here.
“they wish to flaunt me around like a prized lamb. ‘gain sympathy from the houses.’ he says.” You ignore his words and continue to speak. “I will not allow it.” you shrug mindlessly and sit up, he stays laying down. His eye patch off and hair down from its usually prime and perfect state, he had thrown his shirt off at some point too.
You can see it, the hurt that laces his eye and his face, his hand finds yours and you want to rip it away but you cant, the warmth on your skin bringing you a small sense of comfort.
“i had thought we would work. That you would finally move on and forgive grievances of the past. But i hate you just as you hate me aemond,” “i do not hate you. i love you.” you shake your head as he says it, sitting up and gripping your arms tightly, trying to hold your gaze as he says it again.
“i will never forgive you. I will hate you for as long as a breathe.”
“i did not mean to i lost my temper that day.”
“you feeling sorry means nothing to me you know that. how would you feel if the men who murdered our son came in here and said they were sorry., that they didn’t mean to.”
He says your name and his grip tightens on your arms but you continue to merely stare off mindlessly.
“i will repent for the rest of my life. our son will be brought justice.”
he will kill every man in the keep if he has to, slay every man in all of westeros if they cannot figure out who had done it. For you. for his son.
“i love you.” the words come out strained as he begs and pleads to anyone who is willing to listen to him for you to say something else anything to him.
you do. you finally look at him. a look devoid of any love you had once had for him. and it kills him.
“you’re pathetic.”
#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader smut#house of the dragon#aemond smut#hotd fanfic#aemond targaryen x you#aemondtargaryen#aemond targaryen#hotd#prince aemond#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x reader
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blood, betrayal and granola bars PT1
Summary: after a routine takeover of a HYDRA base goes terribly wrong, Natasha Romanoff finds herself stuck with her worst nightmare...you. Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader W.C: 5.7k Words part two
An explosion to your left sent shrapnel and debris flying through the air. You quickly tucked your face into the crook of your arm, too distracted by the task at hand to take note of whether anything had pierced your skin. The sound of not-too distant gunshots motivated you onwards as adrenaline pumped throughout your body and numbed the injuries you were sure to have acquired.
Another blast, this time to the right and a lot closer. Shockwaves had you stumbling backwards, falling to the ground and catching your breath. The explosion was intense enough to have penetrated the outer wall of the building, now exposing you to the frigid environment that lurked outside. You felt a gust of wind encircle you, carrying a chill with it. You shivered, watching as the flakes of snow drifted inside now.
An obstructed voice crackled in your earpiece. “ALL REMAINING PERS-NEL TO LAND- BAY ONE.” You rose to your feet, cringing at the pain that shot through your right side. “I REPEAT--- LAST AIRCRAFT CLEARED FOR TAKE OFF—LANDING BAY ONE.”
The aircraft hanger wasn’t too far away, but common sense told you there was no way you would make it in time. Even then, the likelihood of it successfully taking off in these conditions and without being shot down was slim. You leant against the wall, ready to sink back to the ground in defeat.
A distant boom sounded, followed by the very walls around you shaking and groaning as if barely able to hold up the remaining structure. Then a clunk, and suddenly the fluorescent white lighting switched off. You were thrown into an obscurity which matched the darkness outside. It seemed as though the night air was seeping in through the gap in the wall, shadows suffusing across the maze of corridors.
And then, ironically late, a siren rang out. It started quietly elsewhere, then grew louder and louder until the sound was echoing around your end of the base. A second later and the accompanying red emergency lights turned on, drenching the grey walls, ceiling and floor a bloody red.
Your eyes scanned the area, thankfully deserted, head whipping from side to side as you tried to work out where exactly you were in amongst the chaos. Your gaze fell upon a sign engraved into the wall reading NW12, the corridor you were currently in. Despite having spent the last couple months stationed in the base, your mind was blank and muddled. You desperately scoured your mind for if there was anywhere nearby which could possibly help your situation.
The storage room.
It was just at the end of the corridor and to the left, tucked away in a corner hopefully no one would have found yet. With a new motivation pushing you onwards, you set off at a jog, boots clanging against the metal ground at an uneven pace. Muffled gunshots, screams and footsteps continued playing in the background in a horrifying loop. As you turned the corner, you prayed nobody was round the other side, but didn’t dare to spare a glance.
The emergency protocols meant all locks had been disabled, but pure exhaustion and desperation had you all but slamming yourself against the storage room door. It gave way under your body weight, and you rather ungracefully stumbled through the doorway.
Most the shelves were barren, with everyone having grabbed what they could as the invasion began. But hidden away on the bottom corner shelf you caught sight of a First Aid kit. You lunged towards it, willing to take anything you could. To your convenience, someone had abandoned their backpack in the room, so you grabbed hold of that and shoved the kit inside. The backpack contained a jacket, gloves, pencil and an empty water bottle, so you stole those too,
Was it still stealing if the owner was probably already dead?
There wasn’t much left in terms of weapons. You had a gun on you when the conflict begun, but by now most of the bullets had been fired. All that remained in the storage room was a taser, which you opted to take anyway. It was better than nothing.
With replenished supplies, you decided now was as good as any time to leave. There was an underground garage with several vehicles equipped for tough terrain, and so that was probably your best bet if it hadn’t been raided by now.
The base was located quite literally in the middle of nowhere, with only one road in and out: a straight dirt track that was likely covered by a thick layer of snow this time of year. It was never busy as the base was relatively new and unknown amongst most HYDRA agents. To have been stationed here was an honour, and the fact that the base had been discovered by SHIELD was almost unbelievable.
Brandishing your gun in front of you and ready to fire at will, you began the journey to the garage. For a couple minutes, only the alarm and an eerie silence accompanied your passage through the base. With most the building being in ruins now, the conflict appeared to have been taken outside. SHIELD versus Hydra. Both attempting to evacuate while both making a last-ditch attempt at stopping each other from escaping unharmed.
They were as bad as each other…
Opting for a riskier approach, you lowered your weapon in order to start sprinting. Monotonous grey corridors turned into a blur around you, marked only by the occasional splatter of blood and lifeless body left to rot. Or even worse, the ones still conscious that called meekly out for help. You felt sick to your stomach. SHIELD and HYDRA agents lay alongside each other, unintelligible from one another in death.
Onwards you charged into the very core of the base where bullets were still being fired. You ducked around them, miraculously making it through unscathed. Instinct guided your movements; left then right, left again and straight ahead. And then you reached the final stretch, a concrete staircase winding down to the underground level. You halted for barely a moment to listen out for danger and heard nothing but your own heartbeat thundering.
You took a frantic step, ready to descend when something solid crashed against your chest and sent you soaring backwards. Your thudded pathetically against the wall and fell down, watching as a figure swung herself down from the stair rail above.
You fumbled for your gun and aimed it at the woman. She kicked it out of your grip before you had a chance to fire. While she was unbalanced, you shoved yourself forwards and kicked her leg out from under her. She grunted, hitting the hard concrete ground. You scrambled to retrieve the gun, but she was too quick, grabbing you by the shoulders and dragging you back.
In one last attempt, you seized the taser from where it was tucked in the side pocket of the backpack and dug it into her side. There was a buzz, a flash of electricity and sizzle. She cried out in pain, loosening her grip enough for you to escape.
You didn’t bother to get the gun but leapt over her body and down the first set of stairs, then jumped down the next, and the next. A gunshot resonated through the stairway, the bullet bouncing off the wall right where your head had been a second ago. You glanced up to see the redhead catching up now, aiming the gun and about to shoot again.
You dodged another bullet, descended another level. Another shot rung out, this one nowhere near you. There was no time to celebrate the ground you had gained as another ricocheted off the metal handrail right next to your hand. And then, a faint click. She had run out of bullets, and you had almost reached the door to the garage.
Without the gun in hand anymore, the woman leapt over each rail and masterfully swung herself down, skipping the stairs. By the time you were grasping onto the doorhandle, she was kicking you in the stomach. The door swung shut again as you flailed backwards. She had you cornered, your last chance at freedom now gone, yet she didn’t immediately attack.
At the same moment, you both heard it.
From the other side of the wall, a harsh beeping, its pace getting quicker and quicker.
“Shit.” You glanced at your attacker, who’s horrified expression matched your own.
The beeps grew louder, less distance between each as you remained paralysed, waiting for the bomb to implode.
She sprung suddenly at you, throwing both your bodies to the ground.
A shuddering blast.
Overpowering heat.
And then, darkness.
The first thing Natasha became aware of was pain. It started as a dull thudding in her head, then spread to a terrible ache all over. She was exhausted in every sense of the word, and endlessly grateful for the comfort of the mattress beneath her. A high-pitched ringing in her ears drowned out all other thoughts, becoming gradually louder and contributing to the pounding headache she had.
But what was that sound?
She tried desperately to think what could be causing it, or perhaps more importantly, where she currently was, but her mind came up blank.
The mattress shifted beneath her, a spring suddenly poking into her stomach. She tried repositioning herself to avoid the discomfort, and in doing so inhaled a lungful of dust. She coughed and spluttered, untangling herself and trying to sit up. Her body felt as heavy as lead, but something here wasn’t right.
Fighting against the agonising pain behind her eyes, Natasha finally took in her surroundings.
Pale sunlight was filtering in through the broken structure, reflecting blindingly off the snow that had found its way inside the remaining shelter. All around her was piles of shattered concrete, with metal pipes and other indistinguishable objects poking out. Snow had begun to cover everything in a crisp white blanket, as if hiding the damage done, reclaiming the site.
It all came back to her rather abruptly; the HYDRA base, the mission, how everything had gone wrong. The person she was tasked with capturing had escaped, and the mission was taking a turn for the worse. An order had just come in over the intercom for all remaining SHIELD personnel to escape, so she had been attempting to make her own way out when she’d run into-
Natasha realised now that the mattress that had cushioned her fall was in fact not a mattress.
You lay face down underneath her, unconscious where she had knocked you to the ground before the bomb had gone off. Despite how the world around her spun, and how every muscle called out for rest, Natasha was quick to push herself off you, sitting back on her heels to observe your current state. In response, you groaned, slowly but surely coming back to life.
She hadn’t gotten a good look at you previously, only now allowing her eyes to scan over your face, which was littered in small cuts and bruises. Yet underneath it all, she was forced to admit you were rather beautiful. She almost regretted inflicting such injuries on you- like damaging a skilfully sculpted statue. Her gaze continued roaming over your body, taking in the basic protective gear you were wearing and concluding you were at least partly battle trained, and definitely still a threat.
The taser you had used against her was still tightly gripped in your hand, and she shuddered at the memory of how much it had hurt. She decided there was no way she was leaving you with it and leant over you to take the weapon from your grasp.
Suddenly, your elbow flew back, smacking into her face and throwing her off balance.
“Fuck!” Natasha cupped her nose, spluttering through the pain.
You had turned yourself over onto your back and were holding the taser out like a sword. There was recognition in your eyes, but you appeared just as disorientated as she felt- only without a freshly broken nose. You were breathing heavily, eyes darting around the destroyed stairwell and recalling what had happened.
You finally looked back at Natasha, expression softening ever so slightly as you took in the blood pouring from her nose. “Truce?” You suggested apologetically.
Natasha didn’t respond, her mind too busy racing over what was the best course of action in these circumstances.
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and stared at her. “Did I break your jaw too or do you not speak English?” Then sighed as she continued being silent. “Tregua? Перемирие? Trêve?”
“Yes, I speak English.” She harshly answered at last, putting an end to your rambling.
You watched her curiously as she took a deep breath, bracing her hands on either side of her broken nose. Natasha knew the best thing to do was pop her nose back into place. She closed her eyes, mentally counting down from five and then pushing harshly inwards. There was a load pop as she grimaced, waiting for the agonising feeling to subside.
“You couldn’t have done that, I don’t know, not in front of me?”
“You’re the reason my nose was broken in the first place.” Natasha muttered, shooting you an unimpressed look.
“It was an instinctual response!” You stated, loosening your grip on the taser. All things considered, neither of you were fit to fight one another. “But I’m sorry.” You conceded, eyeing up the current state of her nose.
Out of all the things she expected from you, an apology wasn’t one of them. Natasha reconsidered you for a moment. You were in a more dishevelled state than she was, with dark red stains starting to seep through patches of your uniform, and a nasty gash along your forehead. With every small movement you winced, leading her to conclude that perhaps you didn’t pose as much of a threat to her anymore, apart from the taser which you were reluctant to let go of.
“If that’s your reaction to waking up after a bomb’s just exploded then I don’t want to be near you on a normal day.” She quipped, summoning the resolve to stand up fully.
Despite everything, you smiled and joined in. “Yeah, I did wonder why none of my relationships lasted past one night.”
Natasha didn’t respond, instead scanning herself for injuries. A bullet had nicked her shoulder, but otherwise every other cut was small and inconsequential. The main sufferance was the general ache that encompassed her whole body. From head to toe she felt beaten and bruised and knew it was only going to get worse. The stillness that enveloped the base meant that any chance of rescue was minimal. With SHIELD evacuations likely having finished hours ago, she would have to make her own way back. Somehow.
The wall separating the stairway and underground garage was now nothing but a pile of rubble. She could see that roof had collapsed in on itself and destroyed any remaining vehicles, resigning herself to the fact that the journey would have to be made on foot. Luckily enough, the structure of the building had taken the brute impact of the explosion instead of falling inwards and crushing you both.
Although unlikely that any survivors or supplies remained, Natasha decided to search the remnants of the base. She started to climb up the fragmented chunks of concrete that had once formed the ceiling when you called out after her. “Wait, where are you going?”
She didn’t bother to slow down or face you. If she was to make progress, then there was no time for delay.
“Hey!” You quickly followed the route Natasha had taken, clambering up after her. “Wouldn’t it make sense for us to stick together? For now, at least.” You proposed between breaths. You were already exhausting yourself trying to keep up with her.
“That depends. Do you plan on tasing or elbowing me in the face again?” After hauling herself up one last block, the ground levelled out into a gentle slope. From here she was able to overlook the barren, colourless scenery, broken up only by the demolished structure.
“You attacked me first!” Crunching footsteps in the snow alerted her to the fact you had caught up. She turned back to see you walking over determinedly, occasionally slipping on the icy, uneven surface.
“I attacked a HYDRA agent, don’t make it personal.”
“Yes, and then you saved a HYDRA agent.”
Natasha halted. “What do you mean?”
“You pushed me to the ground before the bomb went off,” You explained with a shrug. “And I highly doubt it was because you wanted a softer landing.”
Natasha nodded. “I did.” She hadn’t really thought of it like that, but in retrospect, she had probably saved you from some life-threatening injuries.
“Why?”
“Force of habit, I guess.” She sniffed, refusing to meet your probing eyes.
“Well, intentional or not, thank you.” You said sincerely. “Let me make it up to you.”
“How, by slowing me down? Turning me in to HYDRA?” She scoffed.
“No. By sharing my supplies,”
Natasha glanced briefly at the backpack hanging from your shoulder. After being stood still for a minute, she had become acutely aware of the snow falling softly all around her. Everywhere she looked was a mix of white and greys, with a line of dark green trees in the distance. The base appeared already devoid of everything, in the process of being reclaimed by the unpredictable wintry weather.
As if reading her mind, you added, “trust me, you won’t find anything useful in the wreckage if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
Natasha didn’t say anything, feeling rather defeated.
“Look, I have a first aid kit. I can treat that gash on your shoulder.” You placed the backpack down to rummage through. “And I have a jacket in here. I can see you shivering.” You held up a sandy coloured jacket. It would hardly provide much warmth, but it was a start.
“Fine.” She surrendered. As much as she didn’t trust you, there was also no point in going separate ways. “But only if you drop the taser.”
You frowned, shaking your head. “What if we run into trouble? This is the middle of the Russian wilderness. You think you’ll be able to take down a bear, or a wild boar with just some showy Karate Kid tricks?”
Natasha smirked. “Karate Kid?”
“You heard me.” You quirked an eyebrow challengingly, shoving the jacket back inside the bag.
“Fine,” She folded her arms. “Then give me the taser.”
You froze for a second, pursing your lips thoughtfully. “You really have trust issues, you know.” With a sigh, you hesitantly placed the taser in her open hand. “Try anything and I’ll hit you with my backpack.”
“I’m sure me and my Karate Kid tricks can handle that.” Natasha examined the small weapon. It wouldn’t do much damage, but you were right, it was better than nothing. She tucked it into her belt where she usually holstered her gun.
“Alright. Truce, Miss…?” You extended a hand, which she shook cautiously.
“Natalie.” She lied. “Natalie Rushman.”
“That’s not your real name, is it?”
“Nope.” Natasha didn’t bother to elaborate.
The location of the HYDRA base you had called home for the last few months was incredibly convenient for running undetected by most major governmental bodies, but as you soon realised, it was possibly the worst for wilderness hikes. You relayed this thought to Natasha, who stubbornly insisted on walking a few paces behind you. “To keep an eye on you,” she had said.
“I’m not sure walkability is usually taken into consideration when deciding that sort of thing.” She said in all seriousness, though you were certain you heard a smile in her voice.
It had been a few hours since you’d formed your impromptu truce and left the destroyed base. The sun was now steadily rising through the pale blue sky, the clouds having parted and snow discontinuing its assault. Still, enough of it crunched under foot that an uncomfortable puddle of water had invaded your boots.
“If I were in charge on designing military bases, I’d have them built in the middle of busy cities.” You stated, thinking out loud.
“Oh yeah?” Natalie prompted, thoroughly uninterested.
“Yeah. Inside of Starbucks’ or something. Somewhere no one would suspect.” You chuckled to yourself. “But I guess that’s why they don’t let me make the decisions.” You lied.
Despite finding Nat’s company to be relatively enjoyable, at the end of the day you were on different sides, and you were reluctant to let her discover your true role or identity within HYDRA.
“Well, that is a pretty stupid idea.”
You put your hand on your heart and turned back to her acting offended. Your gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary. Amongst the endless, flat fields of snow, Natalie provided respite for your eyes. The striking red of her hair and inky black suit stood out like artwork on an otherwise blank, white canvas.
After a beat you turned to face forwards again. “You’re the one with the taser. I think I should be making you walk in front.”
You heard her exhale loudly, but otherwise she said nothing.
“Or what if I tried to make a run for it.” You continued. “I know the area better than you do.”
“I thought you were just complaining about how un-walkable it was.” She retaliated.
“Doesn’t mean I haven’t walked around before.”
“Fine. When we make it to those trees, we can walk next to each other.” She pointed towards the approaching forest of evergreens.
“Wow, what an honour.” You said sarcastically. “Or is it because you know I could hide so easily in there?”
“No, I’m more worried you’d try to run and smack straight into a tree. I don’t want to have to carry a concussed agent round with me.”
You chuckled. “Why? Bad for your image?”
“Exactly.”
Upon entering the forest, the snow became a lot deeper and harder to wade through. The green of the evergreens was darkened by the shadows of other trees standing tall, and so all around you was a scene of black and white- like motionless static in which your mind played tricks on you. Every so often, you swore you saw movement out the corner of your eye, as paranoia began to press down on your chest and rendered you silent. With the taller pine trees blocking sunlight from penetrating the layer of foliage, you found yourself feeling a lot colder after only a couple minutes of walking through it.
“Hold on.” You called out to Natalie and placed the backpack down to dig out the jacket and gloves.
“What happened to sharing resources?”
You looked up at her, pulling on the gloves and feeling instantly a lot warmer. “You should have asked earlier.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t complain.
As you unravelled the jacket fully, a bright green wrapper fell out of the pocket. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes- or luck, as a granola bar fell into your lap.
Unfortunately, Nat saw it too. “I call dibs on the granola bar, then.”
You looked up at her, exasperated and unimpressed. Food hadn’t been on your mind but seeing the snack suddenly brought to light the gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach.
She simply shrugged and reached down to snatch it out of your lap. “You get the clothes; I get the food. It’s only fair.”
You rolled your eyes and watched as she tore open the wrapper. ““I would argue but I don’t have the energy. I’m too weak from hunger.” You stood up and walked onwards without her, determined to ignore the sound of her crunching behind you.
“Wait.” Nat’s voice was suddenly too serious for your liking, a horrible prickle at the base of your spine convincing you to listen to her.
You stopped in your tracks, allowing the silence of the forest to resonate all around you. There were no birds chirping, no branches snapping or wind rustling leaves. It was eerily still.
Static. The crackling of a radio in the distance. “Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me.” An unfamiliar person was speaking into an intercom, met only by more static and silence.
The sound was coming from behind you, growing steadily closer.
“Requesting immediate assistance.” It was a different voice this time, but they had no better luck in reaching out for help.
Your mind was racing, your heart beating in your chest yet you didn’t dare to breath. They could be fellow HYDRA agents willing to join you in the search for safety. Or they could be SHIELD agents, left behind like Natalie and ready to kill you.
Should you reveal yourself and pray they would help? Or stay silent assuming they were the latter?
A quick glance at Natalie revealed the same indecision in her expression. You realised she was in the same situation as you, wondering whether to risk it and trust them, or to continue alone in your unstable truce.
Regardless the fact remained that, if you called out to them, one of you wouldn’t survive.
At this realisation, your mind came to an answer: you would not contact the strangers. Although Nat was your enemy, she had unknowingly saved your life earlier, a debt you were willing to repay. Any desire to fight with her had faded, replaced by the desire to cooperate, and to a certain degree ensure her safety.
“Y/N.” Natalie hissed your name, drawing your attention back to the matter at hand. The voices were steadily growing nearer and nearer, your view of them obstructed by the thick row of trees surrounding you. They hadn’t seen you yet but inevitably would.
Nat inclined her head to the right, eyes widening in an attempt to convey her plan. You followed her gaze to a fallen tree a few metres away, quickly assessing what she meant for you both to do. Relief filled your body as you recognised that she had come to the same conclusion not to turn yourselves over to the strangers,
Careful not to make too much noise, you ducked down and tiptoed over to the fallen tree, hearing her softly following behind. Having recently fallen, the leaves were mostly intact, and you were able to lean back into them and hide. Snow balancing on the branches fell onto you while the shark pine needles stuck uncomfortably into your back, but you ignored the discomfort to shift over, allowing Natalie to settle wordlessly down beside you.
Both of you held your breath and listened out, praying they wouldn’t see you as they went past.
The crackling static grew nearer, interrupted only by the same phrase repeated over and over. “Is anyone out there? Hello? Requesting immediate assistance-“
The footsteps stopped where you had been standing barely a minute ago. There was a dull thump of something hitting the snow, then an agitated. “Just give it up! No one is out there, and nobody is listening!”
The man who had previously been speaking into the intercom sighed. “Well what else would you have us do? Continue wandering aimlessly?”
“Better than listening to your stupid, fucking whiny voice over and over.”
“Yeah, and who made you team leader?”
“Can you two just shut up? Please?” A third exasperated voice interrupted the heated conversation between the two men. “Arguing isn’t going to help us. We’re stuck, the base is gone and HYDRA isn’t coming back to safe us so why don’t you just-“
You zoned out from the rest, too caught up on what he had said. They were HYDRA. They could help you. A sinking sort of feeling enveloped your stomach, previous hunger quickly forgotten and replaced by regret. You listened as the group continued onwards, their voices slowly fading, and with it; your regret only grew.
You glanced to the side, seeing how Nat was watching for your reaction with concern in her eyes. She expected you to run after them and leave her alone, or to call them back and have her ambushed. She must have seen the remorse on your face as her expression hardened, her fist clenched ready for a fight.
Without thinking, you placed your hand over hers and shook your head in way of silent communication. At your assurance, she seemed to relax slightly, so you removed your hand to stare straight ahead and wait for an all clear. Nat continued to impassively observe you until the voices had dwindled, and the forest fell into silence once more.
Darkness was descending upon the forest when you decided to stop for the day. You had made a fair bit of progress, but hunger was gnawing away at your patience, tiredness slowing down your limbs and the cold night air sending pain shooting through all your injuries. Yet in spite of all the negatives, you found you were getting on well with Natalie. Apart from the occasional meaningless squabble, you worked well as a team, and the only issue you had so far was the granola bar peaking teasingly out her pocket.
Currently, she was gathering as much dry kindling as she could find in the fading sunlight, while you were tasked with trying to keep the fire going. Under the shelter of particularly thick evergreen tree, you had brushed away the thinner layer of snow and set up a small pile of twigs. Then you had used the lead from the pencil left in the backpack as a fire starter and gotten Nat to spark the taser against it.
You were rather proud to see flames burning tall barely a moment later. Although, the evergreen pines burnt away rather quickly, hence Natalie searching the area for better materials.
Exhaustion caused your eyelids to droop and your vision to blur as you stared at the fire, hypnotised by the orange glow that danced through the still air. The warmth it emanated felt like a luxury, the light it provided was your saving grace. As much as you loathed to admit it, you found the forest ominous at night, preferring to focus on the way the smoke burned your eyes.
“Hey.” Nat reappeared before you, clutching onto armfuls of sticks which she set down just out of reach of the fire.
You simply smiled at her, too tired to think of anything to say.
“I found these as well.” Nat extended a handful of berries toward you. They were dark in colour, and you couldn’t help but be suspicious. Although you were certain you had been cooperating well, perhaps Natalie didn’t feel the same. Perhaps this was some big ploy to have you killed.
She quirked an eyebrow at the obvious suspicion laced in your expression. “They’re buckthorn.” She explained. “I’m not trying to poison you.”
“Wouldn’t put it past you.” You mumbled, though there was no real weight behind your words. You were starving, and at this point, willing to eat anything.
Carefully, she tipped the berries into your cupped hands. Hesitantly, you ate one.
They tasted fine.
You devoured the rest.
“So how come you know so much about Russian-wilderness gastronomy?” You asked eventually, changing the topic from your obvious distrust of her.
She regarded you with curiosity, surprised that you had thought to ask and considering how much to say. “I was born here.” She put simply.
“And what, you were a Russian girl scout?” You smirked, prompting her to say more.
The corners of her lips lifted up in a smile, then fell back into a serious straight line. “Not exactly.”
You could tell she was avoiding saying something, and you decided not to press her for an answer. Seeing the reminiscent sadness in her eyes, you felt the sudden need to apologise for having brought it up in the first place. “Sorry, just I’m trying to work out how you go from Russia to SHIELD.”
“With great difficulty.” She tilted her head amusedly. “What about you? How did you end up with HYDRA?”
You sighed, slumping against your backpack and debating how much to say. From Nat’s honesty, you decided she at least deserved a truthful response. “Accidentally.” You chuckled humourlessly. “Believe it or not, working for a secret organisation founded in a Nazi ideology wasn’t exactly first on my careers list.”
“Did you accidentally stumble across one of their secret bases located in a Starbucks?” She jokingly asked.
You laughed tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, that would’ve been too easy.”
Both being equally exhausted as the other, you allowed the conversation to end and settled back to sleep. The ground was freezing beneath your body, the fire only providing so much warmth. You were using the backpack as an impromptu pillow, which made the sleeping situation slightly more bearable, yet it was still impossibly uncomfortable. You could hardly imagine how intolerable the night would be for Natalie.
Right on cue, you heard her hiss in pain from beside you. She was clutching at her shoulder, suddenly jogging your memory that a bullet had nicked her.
Your head lolled to the side as you faced her. “Do you want me to bandage that?” You asked quietly.
“I was waiting for you to offer.” She snarked.
You rolled your eyes and sat up, your muscles already aching from the two minutes you had spent laid down. You thumbed through the mostly empty bag to retrieve the first aid kit from the bottom. Beside you, Nat pulled her suit down enough to reveal the gash. You were unable to stop your eyes from lingering on the exposed skin; pale from the cold and covered in dried blood, yet your gaze still traced the way her collarbone jutted out. Your mouth felt suddenly very dry.
“I don’t mind doing it myself.” She commented, a smirk crossing her lips as though she had read your mind.
“No. Its’ fine, I’ll do it.” You shuffled towards her, examining the wound and preparing the necessary equipment to treat it.
She said nothing more as you set to work, your hands surprisingly warm despite the weather.
Softly, silently, you tended to the cut. Softly, silently, Nat basked in the warmth of the contact.
> PT2
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Aquamarine - Chapter 4
Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.
Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?
-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-
You woke up still tired in the transport, still leaning on Ghost. He hadn’t moved since you landed on him, what a sweetheart. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as your gut was telling you.
You sat up yawning, looking around and noting that the drivers had swapped sides and Soap was still dead asleep— now lying in your lap. You didn’t bother to shove him off like you normally would have, being too tired to care.
“Five hours.” Ghost mumbled next to you, opening his eyes as daylight shone into the window next to him. “You slept for five hours, on the worst roads we could be driving on, after eating both of our energy bars.”
You grumbled, leaning back against him scooting a bit closer to be more comfortable. “Aye, greedy gal, isn’t she?” Soap chimed in, catching himself just before his head fell off the seat. Instead of sitting up, he also scooted closer, still using your lap as a pillow. “Now I’m gettin’ peckish and don’t get nothing to eat. Gonna have to scrounge on the floor before long.” This made Ghost chuckle, shaking you.
“Oh be quiet, both of you. I have spares in my pack, you can have those.” You grumbled, swatting both of their chests. “Not that you’d want to, they're probably as crumbly as a nature valley bar by now. Considering how much I got thrown around tonight.” You said, making Soap snicker at the minor innuendo you’d made— and earning another quick swat.
“Soap threw you around. I was nice about carryin’ you. Should be thankful I didn't toss you to the wolves.” Ghost said, a bit smugly.
“Not that you could, Price would bite your head off if he found out either of you willingly watched me get hurt.” You stated smugly. “I am only here “temporarily”, after all. He’d hate to lose a soldier that wasn't his in the first place.”
“You think he doesn’t think of you as part of the team?” Soap asked, “Lass, the second you set foot on a base with him, you were part of the team, no ifs ands or buts about it. He’ll care for you like he does the rest of us.” He yawned, laying back down without a word.
“Do you know how long until we hit base?” You asked, looking up at Ghost, who was in the process of removing the plastic mask from his face.
“Few hours. You should finish resting.” He said, strapping it to his thigh holster, then leaning back. “I’ll probably join you and Soap here in a bit.” You could hear the yawn brewing in his voice. Poor man was tired.
~
Sleep talkers— the both of them! They had both talked the entire time they slept! Johnny kept going on and on about his sisters and kelpies, how they “was gonna take ‘em and never see him again” and Ghost was just mumbling loudly to himself, talking about yard work and food and he kept saying “sorry”. That last one made you feel like bad for being upset with his sleep-talking— but it was really annoying. By the time you fell asleep, you only got about an hours worth!
The transport came to a harsh stop, jolting you awake as the door swung open. The late-morning sun blinded you as you opened your bleary eyes, only to see Price— who seemed glad to see you, but less than happy with your performance. However, his upset was subsided temporarily by the sight of the three of you piled on each other, mostly asleep. It made him chuckle a little and turn to call Gaz over, who burst into a fit of laughter. This woke up Soap and Ghost, who got embarrassed and annoyed respectively.
“Be quiet.” Ghost grumbled at Gaz, gently pushing your head off his shoulder and getting out, leaving you barely enough time to catch yourself as you started to topple over in the seat. He walked past Price sluggishly, shuddering as he stretched lazily. “Let's finish all this so I can go to bed.”
“Agreed.” Soap said, waiting for you to jump out. When you did, he followed suit and shoulder-checked Gaz. You only mumbled and tried to stand up straight as you followed the other two.
~~
You watched what little movement you could on base from your vantage point in an empty watchtower tonight, listening to music from days long since past. It was your birthday, and since you hadn’t been with the task force very long, you’d assumed they wouldn’t care to celebrate. You usually ended up drinking yourself into a puddle of tears and anger on your birthday, but Price tried to discourage drinking the pain away so you’d try to make him proud. You’d decided to take the night slow and quiet, instead of spending your wallet at the bar.
Sighing, you laid back on the cold metal grate of the platform, staring up at the stars. Memories stirred but didn’t surface, making tears well but not spill over.
“Rough night?” A low, rough voice asked you. You rolled your head to look at the source, seeing Ghost. He wore a lower face covering, that hid everything up to his cheekbones, revealing a torn ear and messy blond hair. “It’s only 8pm and you look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
“More than.” You replied, turning back to the sky. The stars were barely visible over the light of the base, but you could still pick out a few. “Missing someone. Today has been overall pretty shitty. But nightfall always makes it worse.” Your hand went to your tags, fiddling with the ring on them.
He hummed, going to sit next to you. He stayed silent for a bit, eyes flicking between the sky and base. “Happy birthday, by the way.” He said finally, sighing at the end of it. “Price mentioned it briefly this morning but we were pretty busy so we couldn’t do anything for you, if that’s okay.” He looked down at you, but you couldn’t tell what emotion he had going on.
“Thanks. I don’t mind,” You said, sitting up. “Haven’t celebrated my birthday with anyone in a little over seven years, so I’m used to it. Does the Task Force celebrate everyone’s birthdays?” Looking at him, his brow seemed to furrow at that comment. “Probably not, huh?”
“Price tries when he can. We don’t do mine though, because that’s classified.” He shrugged. “He’ll probably try to make it up to you. He’s not one to forget.”
“You’re super classified, huh? I wonder what that’s like. Must be nice having no one know who you really are. Well—” You paused, thinking. “Probably not. I was hearing legends of you even before I got sent this way.”
“More painful than anything, both metaphorically and physically.” He answered. “Only four people know what I look like. Only one knows my full name. It’s not great that everyone approaches me in fear, either. It’s not all fun and games.”
You nodded, getting what he was saying. After a long moments silence, you spoke again. “Do you have anyone back home? Do you think they miss you?” You asked him, standing to lean against the railing. He took a moment to think about his answer, knowing the answer to the first one, but not sure about the second.
“Not anymore. Only person I had disappeared after I did. Don’t blame her, though. I would too.” He stared up at you for a moment, still thinking about his answer to the next question. “I know she misses me. What I wonder is if she’s angry with me. I up and disappeared from her life, not thinking about the consequences.” He said, a hint of regret in his tone.
“I’d be pretty upset. I know the pain of being left behind… That’s pretty shitty of you, don’t you think?” You asked, looking down at him. He grumbled and sighed a little.
“Yeah. I know it is. But I did it for a reason though. I was being sent on a series of missions that would’ve put her in… in a lot of danger. The best route to avoid that was to cut all ties and disappear.” He bit his tongue. “I found her recently. Seems she’s holding up well enough. A deep dive told me she’s never really gotten over me, though. Adds to the rest of the guilt I suppose.”
“Good. Even if you were being chased by the worst monsters in the world, I don’t think she deserved that. You could’ve at least told her it was for her safety!” You scoffed without thinking. You groaned as the words that had left your mouth sank in, and you expected him to get up and walk away or give you a lecture. Instead, he stayed where he was, looking off into the distance. “Shit, I’m sorry. That just slipped out. My own anger got the better of me. That couldn’t have been easy, leaving her—”
“No, you’re right.” He cut you off. “She definitely didn’t deserve to be abandoned. Especially not in the way I did it. But that’s what I did and I have to live with it. Even if I regret it every day of my life.” Standing, he pulled a small pouch out of his pocket, passing it over to you. “Happy Birthday. Later, Firefly.”
You took the pouch and watched as he walked away. When he was out of sight, you opened it and held it up to look at. It was a small, expertly carved firefly figurine. It made you smile and you tucked it back into its pouch, deciding you’d display it on your desk.
#cod mw2#cod mw2 fanfic#captain john price#ghost mw2#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#no flashbacks today :(#icarusaquamarine
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would whitewater end up getting dark forested for her support of mudclaw, her hypocrisy, and her neglect?
There's a VERY high chance of it. She's almost certainly damned unless someone defended her VERY well (which is unlikely)
When StarClan makes a ruling, they aren't neccesarily deciding if you are Guilty or Innocent. They're determining if you are worthy of their ranks. You have to prove you belong in Heaven, NOT that you're not bad enough for Hell.
For most warriors this is a very simple yes, and no trial is required... but if you so much as OFFEND StarClan with your bad vibes, they might damn you just for that. Whitewater has a really bad reputation for everything she's done.
The Queen’s Rights actually work "legally" on the assumption that judgement is outsourced to StarClan, because mortals (Oakstar) can't be trusted to be impartial on this specifically. The birth of kittens cannot be used as evidence of codebreaking behavior... on the mortal plane.
StarClan was ALREADY going to give her a review just based on her affair with Mudclaw. If it ended on the Great Journey like they initially planned and she invoked QR with her Ba-less litter, there wouldn't even be a trial.
But that's not how this story goes. She was a ShadowClan cat involved in Mudclaw's rebellion, because she wanted to support him.
SHE might have only done that because she wanted to avoid ThunderClan "putting their paws in another Clan's business" or some other excuse, but StarClan says
"L + Ratio + Supported your baby daddy's coup + Set the peat on fire + What were YOU doing putting your paws in another Clan's business"
StarClan didn't even accept MUDCLAW'S explaination. They didn't even accept VIXENLEAP'S excuse, just some Thistle Law-loving RiverClan warrior who joined because Hawkyfrosty asked her to. They were always going to give Whitewater a hard time for this.
Whitewater might have been able to wrack up some goodgirl points by being a very loyal ShadowClan warrior..... and she did, a little.
But she kept her head down. No spectacular feats of redemption. Just tried to live quiet. That doesn't incur a lot of favor.
And then, the part you've been waiting for... how she treated Owlkit. Theyyyy didn't like that.
If she was sooo unattached to her mate, why did his smiting BOTHER her so much, hm?
She might have won favor for doing something very noble and giving the kittens to the bereaved Torear, but she KEPT Owlkit. Any love she had that influenced that choice drained away
and she didn't do the "right thing" for him by asking for help. She just did the bare minimum at best, and hid her abuse at worst.
Unfortunately though, the neglect and emotional abuse did not earn as much ire on their own as you're hoping. StarClan is (and was) full of much worse abusers. Hillrunner, for example.
Most of StarClan's condemnation would be based around Mudclaw's Rebellion... but they've been waiting a LONG time to process the surviving non-WindClan rebels. So... she's probably doomed.
Unfortunately I cannot imagine she takes it well. She completely ignores that Owlclaw was just a footnote in her condemnation, and uses it to confirm everything she ever believed.
"That kitten WAS meant to die that night. I should have dragged that child out into the storm with the rest of its cursed siblings. I've been shoved into the spot where Owlclaw should be!"
Hmm... maybe I should axe her shortly before the Great Battle, and actually have HER be the one who attacks Owlclaw's kittens. It would be pretty horrifying if she was the one who killed Weaselkit, her own grandchild.
#Canon will be like ouuuugh shes a bad mom bc she didnt smile at her baby every day for 500 years#Ill WRITE you a bad mom#BB!Whitewater#BB!Owlclaw#Better bones au#BB!OOTS#Poor Owlclaw lmaoooooo. Say hello to this simple bully character Jaypaw deals with haha!#(PUTS HIM THROUGH THE HORRORS)#Cw child abuse#Tw child abuse#Child abuse#Child death#Cw child death
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For the AU asks, how about a role reversal AU for Jacob and Syb? One where Syb is the herald and Jacob is the deputy?
[SEND ME A PAIRNG + AN AU SETTING]
ahhhhh thank you kate!!!! fdsa;lf ok so. this got long, but considering anything under 5k is a "short" fic for me, it's fine. also writing evil syb is a lot of fun, so i just let it flow.
for context: in the role reversal au, i imagine that daddy la roux played a more significant role in syb and augustine's upbringing and as a result, syb ends up going to prison instead of going into the army. so when she becomes a herald (nicknamed the Warden) of augustine's cult, she takes over the Henbane with her base of operations being the Hope County Jail (which she calls "the kennels") where she trains loyal and obedient "dogs" to defend the cult.
word count: ~1.5k warnings: imprisonment and brief torture using an electric collar
Jacob was aware of the so-called Warden of the Henbane.
He’d read her file front-to-back until he had it memorized when Whitehorse made the call to bring in Burke to arrest her brother. Born in New Orleans and raised in a dysfunctional home with an alcoholic father and sick mother, “troubled” is perhaps the kindest word to describe her childhood and adolescence. Her rap sheet was already a mile long by the time she dropped out of high school at age sixteen — after her mother died — and no one was surprised when she started busting kneecaps professionally.
They were even less surprised when she killed her Daddy. If anything, those who knew her were more amazed that she hadn’t unloaded the entire clip into his torso. Just a single bullet, straight through the brain. His execution might have been merciful had she not shoved the barrel into his mouth first, breaking his teeth before pulling the trigger. “Daddy taught me there’s only one way to take care of a bad dog,” she’d stated on the record. “So, I put’im down.”
She hadn’t fought her case. Pled guilty, spent the next fifteen years at the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women in St. Gabriel, and was eventually released on good behavior. By all accounts, she was a model inmate and repaid her debt to society.
Or, at least she had, until she broke parole and fled to Montana with her cult leader brother.
Everyone who’s come into contact with her makes her out to be some sort of monster. A boogeyman with sharp teeth and soulless eyes, stalking around on long, spindly legs with a cattle prod hanging off her belt. Unlike the other cult Heralds, people rarely speak of her outside of hushed whispers, as if fearful she may overhear. “She turns men into animals,” they say. “And then she trains them up like dogs.”
But Jacob assumes that, like most authoritarians, she’s less impressive in person.
Every bone and muscle in his body aches as he slowly comes to consciousness. The attempt to arrest her brother had gone poorly, to say the least. Joseph would probably consider him surviving the impact of the helicopter crash a miracle. Jacob isn’t so sure he’d agree.
Even behind closed eyelids, the soft blanket of darkness gives way to blinding white light, and he lets out a low groan. The high pitched buzz of fluorescent lights sound overhead and he curls in on himself, instinctively protecting the soft, vulnerable flesh of his abdomen. His breath comes out rough and ragged. The taste of copper rests heavy on the back of his tongue.
Back in Iraq, Miller had told him about how he’d spent three months as a POW before being rescued. The worst part wasn’t the torture, Miller had said. It was the isolation. With no way to measure time passing, all he had to hold on to the fraying threads of his sanity was focusing on his own breathing. “If I could breathe, then I was still alive. And if I was still alive, then I could hold on a little bit longer.”
So, Jacob takes a breath.
And then he takes another.
And another and another and another, focusing on the air — cold, dry, stagnant — filling his lungs until the pain melts away and the panicked thumping of his heart slows to match the steady rhythm of inhales and exhales.
In, two, three, four — the soft clicks of a lighter’s flint struggling to spark sounds over the buzzing lights.
Out, two, three, four — and the smell of cigarette smoke burns at his nose.
Jacob stirs, cracking his eyes open and wincing at the bright white light bouncing off gray concrete walls. He blearily searches for the source of the smoke, his vision still soft and fuzzy. A figure, tall and thin, stands on the other side of his cell, and as the world slowly comes into focus, he’s met with a face he’d only ever seen in a mugshot.
Sybille La Roux — The Warden herself — leans casually against the bars with a cigarette held loosely between two fingers.
She’s older than she appears in her photo, and significantly more covered in ink. Various tattoos crawl up the pale skin of her toned arms and shoulders, and one of a fraying noose circles her neck, serving as a grim memento mori. Long gone is the mullet she once had — her dark hair cropped short instead, but the look in her eyes remains just as cold and remorseless.
It’s a look he’s familiar with. One he’s seen in his fellow soldiers and one he sees every time he looks in the mirror. Like him, this woman is a killer, and she has no reservations about killing again.
“Rise ‘n shine, princess,” she drawls. Tendrils of smoke coil out of her mouth, demon-like, as she speaks. Her lips curl into a cruel smile. “Sleep well?”
Jacob shifts, pushing himself up into a seated position. A chain jangles behind him as he moves, but he pays it no mind, sliding backwards until his back is pressed against the wall. He levels her with a stone-faced glare, jaw clenching, and even as the seconds drag on, he doesn’t dare break eye contact.
Here, under her scrutinizing gaze, weakness is the one thing he can’t afford.
She tuts with a click of her tongue and bends down to squat in front of the bars. “Aw, c’mon now, ain’t no need to be like that,” she says, taking another puff of her cigarette. When she exhales, she blows the smoke through the bars, into his cell. That taunting grin of hers never leaves, and she crooks the two fingers holding her cigarette beckoningly. “Here, boy.”
But Jacob makes no move to obey. He remains where he sits and narrows his eyes.
She sighs, shoulders heaving in an exaggerated display of disappointment, as if she were a child upset that her favorite animal at the zoo wasn’t being interesting enough. Lifting the cigarette to her lips, she lets it dangle there for a moment while she shifts her weight to pull something from her pockets. Whatever it is, it’s small enough to fit in her palm without Jacob seeing it.
And then pain — sharp, jolting, and electric — shoots through his veins.
His jaw locks in place and he grinds his teeth together so hard he tastes blood. The skin around his neck burns. His muscles spasm, and he falls over onto the ground. His heart races, thumping against his ribcage with enough force that he thinks it might actually explode in his chest. A clipped scream slips out between his teeth and he writhes on the ground, limbs twitching in agony.
And just as suddenly as it started, it stops.
He’s left panting on the ground, red-faced and drooling. Thick strings of spittle dampen his beard, dripping onto the floor below. Yet, despite the trembling of his limbs subsiding as the current leaves his body, the tightness in his chest remains. It isn’t until he can’t take it anymore that a hoarse, rasping cough forces its way from him, leaving him dry-heaving where he lay. His sweaty temple is pressed against the cool concrete, and slowly, his heartbeat slows and he regains his breath.
When he opens his eyes with another groan, he finds La Roux regarding him dispassionately. “I said: c’mere,” she repeats, and this time, her tone leaves no room for disobedience.
Jacob grunts when he lifts himself onto trembling hands and knees. Reluctantly, he obeys, crawling towards her on aching knees until the chain behind him pulls taught and the electric collar she’d just used to shock him digs into his windpipe. He stops just short of the bars, unable to reach through and grab her.
Her lips curl into a cruel smile. “Good boy,” she says and takes another drag. “S’pose I don’t gotta explain the humor of your situation, do I, Deputy Seed?” she asks, reaching through the bars so she can tap the ashes of her cigarette onto the ground in front of him.
The irony of an officer of the law being unlawfully held in his own jail by a convicted felon isn’t lost on him, but once again, he doesn’t answer.
Unconcerned by his refusal to respond, La Roux keeps talking. “Tell me — you ever think about what happens to the people you lock up?” She cocks her head menacingly to the side and her voice lowers. “Do y’know what happens when a person spends too long inside a cage?”
“Why do I get the feeling you’ll show me,” he grits through clenched teeth.
He nearly flinches when she throws her head back to bark a laugh. When her gaze returns to him, her eyes are glimmering with malice. “You gonna give me reason to?” she asks. Once again, Jacob remains quiet, and she takes the moment to let her eyes rake over his body, sending a shiver crawling down his spine. She locks onto his old army dog tags, which dangle freely from his neck. Her smile widens. “Nah, y’already half broken in, ain’t’cha?”
She rises to stand and looks down at him groveling before her like a dog. Taking a final drag, she lets the butt of her cigarette slip from her fingers and fall to the ground. Her heavy boot comes down and she grinds its glowing ember out with her heel. “Don’t worry. We’ll get’cha the rest of the way there. I’ll train ya up real good.”
#my fic#oc: deputy sybille la roux#herald syb au#r: define your meaning of war#realistically syb would probably be serving life but we'll handwave that for the sake of the fiction
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Undertale Yellow feels like, and I don’t say this lightly, the Advent Children of UT/DR
Looks really cool, *is* really cool in a lot of the ways that count, even hits home sometimes… but also nobody who touched the production ever really “got” the original, so it’s just kinda hollow
That’s not always a bad thing, fanlike reverence leads to new ideas being created usually when people try to replicate the things they like about a work while cutting back on the less important bits. But when you tie it to this worship of the original text you get all these… janky halfhearted copies.
Like, oh, we gotta kinda have a Papyrus. Here’s your robot section. Didn’t you like Undertale’s Neutral Route? There’s some quieter comparison points where you can feel the thought that went into making UTY a fun reflection of the original. But also sometimes things feel needless, like they’re there to fill a quota.
The pacing gets this the worst- the actual main cast is introduced two thirds of the way through the story, so most of the early areas are JUST old Undertale zones without the humor or charm. Pacifist in particular suffers because of how much importance it puts on characters and scenarios that a first time player will have No time to care about.
The themes here are…. Incoherent. Copying Undertale’s structure so hard means that unintentionally a lot of the same Determination, Empathy, Content Consumption stuff gets reiterated, while the new stuff about Justice and Consequences feels like its totally shoved to the ends of each route where characters will start talking as if walking around doing random encounters and occasionally stumbling into bits with characters who immediately fall in love with you and proceed to do three bits before leaving means we’ve had some Deep Meaningful Arc together that is climaxing only now.
Which is to say at some point in every route characters will start ranting about Justice and Heroism in a way that just feels really goofy since it always comes out of nowhere. I can see the narrative bones of a fun western romp, but its buried under all this Undertale flavored fluff that makes the early game feel charming but hollow, the midgame feel abrupt and slow, and the endgame feel interesting but wayyyy too fast and undercooked for whats come before it.
And then there’s the Cool parts. The character design is just fifteen levels of weird, everyone is the same sort of lanky furry creature with these big mysterious angsty backstories that mainly serve to funnel people towards the two big endgame superbosses of Pacifist and Genocide. And they certainly are big, taking the form of long, multiphase endeavors with more than a few totally unbalanced attacks that go more for flash and overwhelming density than anything else.
And hey, I can’t say the flash doesn’t work…? I think with Deltarune as a comparison now, the weird reality breaking freaks of Jevil and Spamton feel a lot more interesting of a Sans followup but sure yeah, I can’t say that these anime powerups don’t look sick even if they feel a little disconnected from everything. But it feels like they exist at the expense of everything else as these all encompassing fixation points.
And hell, UTY is probably the *most* restrained Undertale fangame here, because you can tell in the base encounter design that clearly the developers liked the idea that Undertale was a game with encounters in it, even if the bits aren’t always as funny or charming they’re at least there and well executed. I like the random monsters! They’re probably my favorite thing here because they don’t feel exaggerated or cast aside to better focus in on the Cool Stuff
I dunno, I feel weirdly conflicted that a game so technically competent at emulating Undertale and so clearly passionate in its aims feels so uneven and clumsy. I’m glad it exists, I’m glad I played it, I just wish it was more… good. Maybe it’s in part that I got into Undertale from its influences (Homestuck and weird quirked up JRPGs) that it feels so weird to have those influences diminished to better do the Cool Stuff, but I feel if UTY wanted to just do the Cool Stuff it would have been better served not being so tied down to living up to the already lofty task of Undertale 2 without feeling like a direct to dvd and home video sequel.
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Hi Ira! I hope I'm not totally offbase in saying I think you'd enjoy CJtheX on youtube's most recent video on 'art sins'
a lot of their advice for avoiding unhealthy perfectionism/authentically building an audience felt like things you've mentioned in the past! plus their videos are just super fun to watch as a fellow ADHD haver tm
hey, thank u for this rec! this is a really cool video. (link for ease, for anyone who wants to see it.)
i will be honest, the delivery style actually doesn't work for me -- BUT i've ended up watching the whole thing anyway while doin my warmups bc, u were not offbase, i heavily agree w a large chunk of what they're saying here and even the stuff i don't necessarily agree w is still articulated in a way i find really interesting and enjoyable
(like notably if ur curious, a lot of the "wrath" segment did not land for me, but not rly in a "i vehemently disagree w this!!!" way but more in a "huh. i guess that's a way to look at it. i don't feel that way" way. but also like, how much is it me actually not agreeing vs. perhaps being a little defensive bc ongoing anxiety/fussiness abt whether or not my work is interpreted "correctly" IS an issue i've always had lol. but also i've had entire fine art projects/series based on destroying/redacting past work! so i think i'm just coming to it from a totally different perspective)
on the flip side, i feel like the lust segment is a part that like -- i have touched on this, re: authentically building an audience, but this person has articulated it so much better re: tying that to marketing specifically in a way i think i haven't ever gotten around to? in that like, yeah, esp when it's your job, you do have to "market" your art, but like, what can that look like in a way that still honors + respects what you're doing and why u do it vs just being a thoughtless kneejerk cycle of actions meant to shove it in ppl's faces and drive engagement. i really liked what they said abt how when ppl are chasing engagement they're probably actually after what that engagement is supposed to symbolize, i really connect + agree w that. just a rly cool discussion of that issue overall
anyway! neat video, i liked it. i think other ppl who follow me will probably like it too. (also don't ever worry abt being "offbase" on a recommendation. like, what's the worst case scenario if u recommend me something and ur "wrong" about it. i'll be like "nah, not for me/i didn't really like that!" and like literally who cares abt that)
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What was Birdie up to during the Shadow Company Betrayal-Debacle?
Thank you for asking hun! 💙 Haha you picked probably one of the more exciting moments for Theodora 😂
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Why, in the holy hell, did Johnny want thirty churros!?
Theodora had seen him do some pretty spectacular things in the time she had known him, but putting away a meal alongside thirty churros was something that even she thought was a stretch.
Tapping her thumb on the steering wheel to the music from the radio, Theodora glanced over at the food sitting in the passenger seat and debated whether Johnny would miss a churro or two, the smell permeating the car was really starting to make her mouth water.
But when Theodora came around the bend back towards the base's checkpoint, what she saw made her quickly press her heeled foot onto the brake. The car slowed to a stop and something about the scene made her stomach drop.
Theodora never claimed to be any better at reading people than the average person, but she did know her boys, and right now their stances made the little hairs on her arms stand up. Something wasn't right about where Shadow Company was, or the tenseness of Simon and Johnny's backs, or the fact that Alejandro looked like he was in the middle of an argument.
The slow stop of the car got their attention for a moment, and when Johnny and Simon turned their heads towards her, Theodora got the sense they were trying to convey something to her but she was too far away to truly discern it. Very discreetly she moved her hand down to the gear lever and put the car in reverse, hoping that the white lights on the back didn't show up too brightly.
But Theodora realised quickly she wouldn't have to worry about that, because all hell broke loose once Alejandro lurched forward to attack Phillip. She didn't even waste time to stay and watch what happened, once the first hit was thrown Theodora slammed her foot back onto the accelerator and turned over her shoulder to try and navigate herself away.
Admittedly, Backwards Getaway Driving 101 wasn't a class Theodora had ever taken in her life, and in her rising panic she misjudged the bend and slammed the back of the car into the road guard.
'Fucking shite!' She muttered as the back of her head smacked the headrest, her stress growing at the sound of gunfire. What the hell was going on? Everything had just seemed to go so wrong so fast, and just after their win with the missile. Quickly shifting the lever back to drive, Theodora turned the steering wheel to try and get as far away from there as possible.
But despite being well away from all the chaos, bullets tended to close that distance well, and car doors were the furtherest things from bulletproof.
And God did that bullet burn.
Theodora cried out and instinctively grabbed her left thigh, causing the car to swerve slightly. She drove down the road for only a short while longer before she had to slam on the brakes and put it in park, her thigh was absolutely throbbing and hot blood was flowing out over her hand. Her panic was turning into full on terror as she thought about the location of her injury, was she going to bleed out? Was she going to die here?
With shaking hands Theodora slid the hem of her dress up her thigh, pained noises escaping her mouth as the fabric pressed against the wound, blood making the fabric sticky. She was sucking in tears as she pulled her cardigan off her shoulders, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes briefly to psyche herself up, Theodora lifted her bleeding thigh with a cry and shoved her cardigan underneath it. Taking the sleeves she tied a knot and pulled as hard as she could, it was agonising but it kept a constant pressure, and she knew the worst part of it hadn't even started yet.
Blindly reaching under the food bags with one hand Theodora grabbed her tablet while the other was trying to unlatch the door, the slippery blood on her hand made it harder. Stumbling out onto the road was the worst part of all this so far, other than actually getting shot, her thigh burned and stung every time she had to step on it and her heels made it pure agony. Kicking said heels off Theodora stumbled towards the gap in the road guard, limping as fast as she could, she didn't want to deal with Shadow Company or whatever the hell was going on behind her.
She was just a technical analyst, she'd never been shot before, she shouldn't have to deal with this shit!
Hopefully she'd find someone who could help her soon, or Johnny, or Simon, or anyone that knew what to do in these kinds of situations.
Through the trees Theodora could see some lights in the distance, and with an agonisingly throbbing thigh, she stumbled her way towards them. Hoping and praying for another little miracle of luck.
#theodora “birdie” march#call of duty oc#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#codmw#codmw2#cod#mw2#ask meme#my writing
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it's me from the last ask, hello !! and here are my random sandlot headcanons :)
scotty hcs:
- favorite color is blue
- he's gay
- can't handle anything scary at all, hates horror movies and haunted houses and halloween is his least favorite holiday
- if the camera doesn't show it, he'll stand on his tip toes in pictures so that he looks a little taller
- gets really bad spring allergies
- his favorite classes are science and math
- he loves science fiction novels
- he doesn't like sour candy
benny hcs:
- refuses to admit when he's sick
- moves in his sleep and always ends up in the weirdest positions; like halfway off the bed and hanging upside down
- clicks his pen absentmindedly in class and doesn't even notice until someone tells him to stop
- he's either gay or bi, idk yet but he definitely isn't straight because he's scotty's bf
- his younger cousins draw pictures for him whenever they visit and he saves all of them. they're in a drawer in his bedroom.
- shoves his friends in the pool (and if they're tiny enough, he'll pick them up and throw them in.)
- hates when people cry because he never knows what to do.
scott x benny / baseball bfs hcs
- scotty always falls asleep first at sleepovers, benny makes sure that nobody messes him while he sleeps.
- whenever any of the guys want benny to do something, they tell scotty to ask him because "he always says yes to you."
- they are always touching in some way (leaning against each other, arm over shoulder, et cetera) and benny is usually the one to initiate it.
- benny hates math and science. they're his worst subjects. so he studies with scotty because being with his best friend makes the subjects more bearable. plus he explains the concepts way better than the teachers do.
- scotty has a tendency to ramble and over explain, especially when it's about a topic he's interested in, and benny just stares at him all lovingly the entire time without realizing. bro is MESMERIZED by his nerd bf.
- you know that "one for the money, two for the show" trend on tiktok? benny is elvis' version and scotty is taylor's. i will not elaborate or accept any criticism on this.
I don't have anything to add, I just read this and smiled a lot because it's cute and you are right. You could probably get a pretty good spooky Halloween scared/comfort fic going based on what you've already got bouncing around in your head.
Thank you for sharing these, because for the most part I'm just trying to avoid remembering what the years after '62 were actually like.
I have no idea what you are talking about with your one for the money two for the show bit, but that's okay, because I do not expect you to elaborate, just understand that I am the Lana Del Ray part of the meme. i think.
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Revising A Tale of Star-Crossed Knights: Chapters 2-4
Link to Chapter 2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39015690/chapters/98040516/ Link to Chapter 3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39015690/chapters/98349852/ Link to Chapter 4: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39015690/chapters/98694090/
I've decided that I won't write revising notes for every chapter so I'll probably be grouping arcs together. In this case, I'm grouping together Chapters 2-4 which is the marriage/pregnancy arc. These were the chapters when I was starting to get a handle on how to pace the story but I still see that there were issues with it.
Chapter 2 was definitely the worst of the three. In retrospect, shoving in fluff where they start properly dating into a chapter where the main event was Erinys finding out she was pregnant was probably not the wisest decision. I did like the scene where they are awkwardly lovey-dovey with each other and Finn comes up with the "angel" nickname. (As I said in the original A/N, that was based on an older fanslation calling Erinys/Annand/Pamela/Dithorba the "Angelic Knights of Silesse.") The scene at the end where Erinys delivers the news to Finn had a very abrupt ending which I blame on feeling awkward about writing this topic. I had to rewrite that so it wouldn't just end with them hugging - there is at least a semblance of a resolution now.
(Sadly, I also cut a scene from Chapter 2 where Ethlyn teaches Finn and Erinys how to date. I love the idea of Ethlyn being a wingwoman but I couldn't think of a way to rewrite the scene. Since I'm not a full-time writer, I decided to just cut instead of leaving a poorly-integrated scene.)
Chapter 3 was the most bloated chapter in Part I. I did not expect for it to be that long when I was originally writing it. Surprisingly most of it was fine and I mostly cut down on the actual wedding scene as well as a scene where Finn is in church. The pivotal part of this chapter, in my opinion, was Finn getting the bronze rings with their names.
Then there was Chapter 4 which is surprisingly short. Originally I wanted to include the scene where Deirdre disappears but that was reduced to a cliffhanger at the end of the chapter. IMO, that was for the better. The chapter mostly resolves around them picking names for the child and later the actual birth of Ced. The birth scene is something that I wanted to cut down on after I released the chapter because the focus should be more on the fluff of the new parents bonding with their son. This chapter overall didn't require too much revision either. I thought about adding some more meat to the scene in the middle where Lewyn and Erinys argue before he leaves, but again, I don't want to spend too much time on this project.
---
Here are the original author's notes for each chapter.
Chapter 2:
Yup, this is the scene that above all I dreaded writing. I realized when I charted out this saga a year ago that Erinys and Finn would only work if it were a shotgun marriage because Ced is conceived out of wedlock. Now certainly it's likely that at least one of the relationships in Sigurd's army had a child or two conceived out of wedlock, and in fact the Silvia/Alec conversation within the game itself goes down that route. Despite this, I still did not look forward to trying to write a scene where Erinys finds out that she got pregnant because she and Finn messed around and the scenes that follow like her having to reveal this to Finn. I've tried to write this part as delicately as possible. I want to show that these two would be, for lack of a better term, scared shitless that this is happening while not turning the ordeal into a joke. Hopefully I've struck a good balance so far, but if not then please tell me in the comments. Miscellaneous stuff: Ethlyn is the one who helps them get together because of course, I can't think of anyone better I'd like to use. I made up the name Agatha for one of Erinys' knights just for fun (the ones that show up with her in Chapter 2), I can't remember if any of the manga gave any of the knights a name. My idea with the date is that there is a Silessian bar next to Silesse's embassy in Agusti that is popular among Silessians who are in Agustria for whatever reason. The scene of Finn wrapping his cape around Erinys was actually one that I was intending to make a standalone fic at one point, but it never materialized; I decided to incorporate it here instead. Months are named after the crusaders in-universe, so the month of Dáinn is November, the month of Nál is December, and the month of Njörun is January. The chapter starts in 758 with the new year being 759 of course; Seliph is to be born during May in 759. Midir is the one whom Finn goes on a sortie with at the end because they somewhat know each other since they joined Sigurd's army at around the same time and serve similar roles. Chapter 3:
We've gotten to the wedding scene which I stretched out way longer than I thought I would. And more fluffy and trope-y than I though it would be. Oh well...you need some fluff to make the tragic parts hit harder. I swear that the next chapter will actually have serious stuff...provided that it goes farther than Ced's birth. To me, the key scene in this chapter is the wedding rings scene. If you've seen my other sketches on this pairing, you'd know that the wedding rings are a key device that will be used later on in this work. They're cheap and bronze yet they still have their names written on them as a touch, so they symbolize how their love came together in a cheap way yet they still somehow are attached to each other, surprisingly. The other scene that I like is the stargazing scene. It was the last scene I inserted into this chapter. I thought something was missing in that spot until I realized while reading my existing sketches that Finn said that he and Erinys liked doing that for fun, so I inserted it here because I didn't know if I'd have a good place to after Ced was born. It's also just more opportunity for fluff to show off their dynamic a bit more. Miscellaneous notes: I integrated Eldigan into the scene at the beginning because I want to situate this work within what happens in the actual game. Still Yes, Lewyn makes a couple suggestive jokes because I feel like he would do that. I feel like in a modern AU Lewyn would be atheist or at least non-religious, but it's hard for him to be outright that way in a universe where the gods exist in some fashion. Finn gets the flowers off-screen from Lachesis. I like to think Lachesis would like cultivating flowers as a hobby, maybe. Erinys' pegasus is named after Palla but I used the Japanese form of her name, kind of as a nod to other flying animals sharing their names with fliers in other games. Banns of marriage is an actual tradition with marriages in the West. I think I made the wedding a bit too Western-centric, but it's what I know best. Plus it's a convenient explanation as to how they waited long enough for the wedding rings to come back. Constellations take their names from real life ones but I didn't really care much for accuracy in placement. The Silessian Cross is an allusion to the Southern Cross (Crux) which was used in real life to guide navigators towards the south, as a counterpart to the Big Dipper (Ursa Major). I'm not really good at fashion so I just tried to make up what I think would be good outfits for the pair to wear to their wedding. It's supposed to symbolize how rushed it was and how they aren't really rich enough to do something lavish, but I probably failed at that. Oh well. That's all on the misc notes so hopefully you had fun reading this :)
Chapter 4:
I need to stop promising myself that the next chapter will feature actual drama because I keep breaking it. This one's a shorter one. So I have a scene where Finn and Erinys come up with the names for their child(ren), and made up stuff about where the names come from. I was reminded the other day on Twitter that in one of the Forging Bonds in FEH, Erinys was shocked that she named her son after the crusader as if it was some kind of taboo. Kind of ignored that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. The next two conversations both hint at some conflicts that will come up more in later parts of the story, I won't spoil what my plans are but you can guess. Finally the birth scene was designed to focus on the fluffy moments of Ced meeting his parents for the first time, not on the actual nitty-gritty. Of course in real life it's tough, ugly, and dangerous, but nobody wants to hear about that. We all want to see a wholesome family moment. And then at the end is a cliffhanger, although everyone knows what happened with Deirdre. Miscellaneous notes: The month of Baldr is May (I always put Seliph's birthday on May 14th), the month of Od is July. The month in between, June, is the month of Höðr/Hezul. Ayra is meant to get with Arden. Originally I wanted to do Alec for laughs, but I've decided that instead I kind of want to see if I can slip in a mention of Naoise/Alec at some point. The knights that accompanied Erinys' to Agustria are meant to still be there, just that they are protecting Lewyn now and taking her duties since you know...she's heavily pregnant at this point in the story. Agusti's summers are meant to be hot and sticky. Agusti is too far inland to get moderated by the ocean, so it sucks. Somewhere close to the coast like Orgahil would get a more mild summer. But at least it's not like Isaach where there is almost never any rain during the summer. In real life medieval Europe, men were supposed to completely separate from the mother before childbirth because it was feared that the mere presence of a male was dangerous to the mother and her child. Here, in the background Sigurd was such an airhead that he refused to separate from Deirdre when Seliph was born. Seliph being born perfectly fine "proved" that males wouldn't inherently mess up the process, so Finn uses it as justification for him to force his way into the room. Edain is meant to be there as a sort of overseer, but she also reads prayers because she's a cleric still. I headcanon that it's practice for a child to be christened by a cleric on the eighth day of their life so they can receive some sort of blessing from the gods. That's what happened with Ced as he is christened by Edain. Thanks for reading, feel free to comment, and hopefully we can come back here for Chapter 5 soon.
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8, 13, 20 🔥fop🔥
common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about - ppl who havent watched the og show on its own / enterity talking abt how coswans marriage fell apart BECAUSE of timmy's secret wish
now again i have no problem w people talking about this if its their own interpretation or au, ive said many times that on its own i think if you do it well you can make a good angst fic, however what i want people to understand is that that take came from someones analysis, and while i do have small problems w it (the 'apartnership shows them being bad for eachother' section in perticular) its just generally not a bad thing however w alot of these analysis' ppl listen to it and it goes through a game of telephone, its what happened to chloe like even before i remember if ppl mentioned her name some guy in his 40s would run to the comments to make 4 posts about how much she sucks and half the time the ppl didnt watch the show itself
i also think its making people blur the line between their own interpretation and what the actual writing intent is "omg coswan got marriage counseling in anw after slowly falling out thats cute" a fun headcanon but people speak of it like it was fully intentional, from the pitchbible coswan were always ment to love eachother wholey, its just the fact that they brought in more writers who made more "i hate my wife" jokes and it went downhill from here, but also because the og fop didnt have its own connected storyline and character arcs, and i highly doubt they planned the 50 years wish in 2002, along with the fact that the ANW writers picking up the pieces and just going off their old writing if that makes sense
as a note on the last part i will admit that coswans relationship got slightlyyy better after season 5-7 ish, keyword being slightly, they dont make explicit "i hate my wife jokes' every 2 minutes and had some cute moments but its still there just much less unbearable
worst blorboficiation - poof WHATTTT WHO SAID THAT
the twink jokes were funny for the first week now its making me want to bash my head into the wall, im also not a fan of ppl molding him into a father for dev (i.e specifically calling him dad) because A) to me it just seems like ur reducing him to one character trait alone B) hes more of a "older brother who returned from collage" type of dude who just got his first job and it isnt going well
also perirep fans, the moment i peep in and i see fanart to me its basically that one yaoi base, close enough welcome back 2018
i want more ppl to take in account the amount of shit poof has been in the og show... YEAH hes a baby and wont remember anything and hes so lenient on da rules, HOWEVER have you considered that hes just trying not to loose his first job ever and when hes not doing godparenting hes being a mischevious little fuck (the cupcake gag, "I NEVER GAVE 2 WEEKS NOTICE!!!!!!!") and foop is also slightly soppy wet, make them daffy and bugs bunny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i could probably list 2 more
part of canon you found tedious or boring - TIMMYS DAD BEING EVERYWHEREEEEE, like i get it the writers found him funny and wanted to use him more but by the time season 10 rolled around he was in basically every single episode and theyve dumbed him down to the point where he was so stupid it got annoying
crocker while i didnt like him also being shoved in every episode atleast had more going on for him because of the whole fairy hunter thing (and i liked kevin... rip kevin) and i get that realistically they couldnt do anything w the other characters cuz the voice actors left iirc but i feel like with this guy the people went "um . what do we do" and threw everything at the wall, holy shit i want to smash this guys head in with a metal poll, timmy moms can stay though
(on a unrelated note cuz i didnt wanna make a seperate post: hot take but iirc i think timmys mom was actually a good mother on her own when dad wasnt around, she just got so into him she forgor ....... if that makes sense)
#calico.exe#sorry it took so long to answer i am the avoider and i dont know why thats an odd habbit
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You guys are talking about what the kid's lives would be like
But where are they gonna live...
I HAVE NO ANSWER TO THIS 💀 I KNOWWW I'M THE CREATOR BUT I'VE BEEN LOST ON THIS FOR 3 YEARS
I have pros and cons to the places that Ai has been to and/or likes
Hell:
Pros:
Her house is actually pretty nice looking. And surprisingly safe.
The Sins are around and really don't mind providing support for Ai's children when needed (Eliza, Siran's daughter, was basically a test run so it's nothing new to them)
Living in hell would quickly help them find their sense of purpose; if they don't get their shit straight, they're getting pushed aside by the rest of society
Would give them a really good understanding of religion
Ai would be around a lot more and she wouldn't constantly be freaking the fuck out because she knows her surroundings
No one would fuck with them
Cons:
Ai can easily hide all the bullshit she's done from Alexi because he's never been to hell. If they're there a majority of the time, Ai would either have to get herself together (which wouldn't last long from what we know rn) or just let herself be an asshole and become a bad example
The weather. The fuckin weather 😭 half of the time it isn't Ai's fault either it just sucks ass
It can get hot. Like really hot. Not in the house tho
Nash. Aquinas. Showing their true colors.
Politics get mad stressful and they'll probably get looped into it too early
Speaking of which, they might mature too quickly 💀 hell isn't the place to have a calm life
High expectations
Nostea:
Pros:
Atlas and Orion are usually kinda patrolling when Ai isn't around. They wouldn't really be the worst babysitters either
Safe for the most part
There's little to no conflict ever
They get scary dog privileges from Nash and technically Ai too
Cons:
If anything negative were to happen, it would literally shatter the world and send everyone into panic. They're not used to potential conflict so they haven't prepared for big things like that
Prejudice. It's easy to shove it under the rug for a while but really, what happens when the world isn't used to people being different? There's hate. Nostea is still getting used to the existence of hybrids so that might become a problem
They might even become spoiled
They might struggle to make true friends but the chance is kinda low
Everday Havens or Twilight Rifts:
Pros:
So fuckin calm. Like if the cottagecore aesthetic was perfect. Like it's fuckin amazing
Heavily magic based realm. Ai probably wouldn't want her kids to get too used to the mundane anyway
Everyday Havens specific: The weather is always nice
Neutral:
It's pretty empty. It's not like the place is unknown, it's just hard to get there for people who haven't been there before, so there's only going to be a few people around and the houses are really spaced out
RANDOM GRAVES. It's not like they're just lying about and you're gonna step on a dead body or something but you could be running around in one of the big fields and randomly see "Rest in Peace __" like okay girl...They're not that common...but they're there so I just put it as a neutral
Twilight Rifts specific: Questionable weather. Like it can get pretty damn bad when there's rain or snow, but it looks beautiful when it's sunny out
Everyday Havens specific: Its never really sunny out. 70% of the day is just a few hours after midday or sunset and the other 30% is night time.
Cons:
Fairly underdeveloped area so there's not much going on. Better get used to walking because there aren't any cars unless you magically conjure one up
Sometimes there's too much magic. Like shit will just break or randomly become created for like no reason. Usually there are warning signs around where it would usually happen, but there aren't signs for every area
Power can go out pretty easily
Golrotnce:
Pros:
I deadass can't think of anything off the top of my head that is only a pro
Neutral:
People have a very fast moving way of life. That can be good and bad depending on the person who's asked
All the pros and cons of the 20's mixed with the 50's. Weird, I know
A lot of snow. Like. A normal person would get like, knee deep in snow fun for a while but that's too damn much
Cons:
They're suffering from some of the shit Nash has been doing. He was feeling a lil goofy and left LANDMINES IN RANDOM AREAS. Most of the areas have been cleared. But DAMN
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Question! So, what will the extent of the abuse be when it isn't sexual in nature? It's been established that Jon here, at least in his worst forms, seems like he'll be pretty controlling and possessive (along with the fact that his base form of communication with Martin appears to be emotional abuse -_-) how bad will that get? Does he ever get physically abusive when he isn't 'in the bedroom' or attempting to initiate a sexual interaction? If so then to what extent?
I'm super excited to see this become a series and think the things you've posted about it seem super interesting! I have a bunch of other questions, but I don't want to send them all at once since that *might* be a tad much haha.
Hm, sometimes in a nonsexual argument Jon might shove or slap him again if he's already done that a few times before, but only if the emotional dynamic is similar enough that he feels like he can still get away with it. If Martin's in an indignant mood, he wouldn't dare escalate that to a physical fight. (Like, he'd never be scared of Martin getting violent unprovoked, but... he would notice if he genuinely seemed like he wasn't going to take any more shit, as Martin's fighty moods aren't subtle, and then it'd be a matter of trying to talk about misunderstanding and compromise for a good long time. But he'd probably pick up on the early signals if a verbal argument was heading in that direction instead of submission.)
Jon would only (successfully) pick a fight with other people in front of Martin if he could rely on his compulsion to freeze people in place while talking/listening, and at a certain point he'd make it clear to Martin that leaving with him was the easiest route to ending the violence. And then if he had to derail a bad reaction from Martin with any urgency, he could compel him with a question about his guiltiest memory, or about what it would take to get him to give up and leave, etc. If he really wanted to kill someone, or feed on them for his own sake, he'd try to avoid doing that in front of Martin, knowing he'd hold it against him.
(Unsuccessfully... he may try picking up a conventional weapon and threatening people other than Martin, but that would not go well for him.)
Jon will sometimes manage better than his absolute worst, but if he keeps up good habits consistently, that'll lead to a better end. If he's inconsistent... well, reading about abuse, it's pretty common for relationships to have good patches that keep people invested, making them think it's worth sticking around to deal with the problems, even if those issues keep recurring, so some bits of the story will reflect that. Jon only got as far he did in the first part thanks to having shown Martin enough kindness to position himself as a lifeline in a crisis, and he'll have to keep working to maintain that, in the stretches before they land on a good end or bad end.
As for how broad the extent of the abuse is, uh, as well as the stuff above, even when Jon's not outright trying to be hurtful, he'll be very prone to invasions of privacy. (If Martin moves his stuff into Jon's apartment, then he'll rifle through pretty much any of it, whether not it occurs to him that he should have asked first.)
Something that might show up, if it ends up fitting with the flow of at least one route, is the type of damage to property that could be framed as more petty than it really is. E.g., if Jon gets angry and they've talked enough that he doesn't think it'll be read as a more direct threat, he might smash a glass and storm off. At which point Martin might be exasperated enough to just... not deal with that. And then Jon might feel guilty enough to clear it up later.
I'm glad there's food for thought! Working on this, I kinda hope the lighter routes don't feel too tame compared to the heavy ones, or the bad ends too bleak compared to the parts where things stay complicated... but however it turns out, it feels like being able to explore all outcomes is the most freeing approach.
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Road Trip Pt.2
Summary: the long car ride with Steve ended when you stopped at a motel for the night. The tensions snap and feelings are released. 1.7k
again, this is loosely based on the Nancy/Jonathan plot from season 2.
Warnings: angst, arguing, language, Steve and reader are VERY MEAN. SLOW SLOW BURN
//this will probably be a 3 parter, maybe a short 4th part? Like 1k word 4th chapter? how do we feel about the one-bed trope mixed with enemies to lovers and a slight slow burn? I'm just shoving every genre in there tbh.
Two days. Two days spent trying not to strangle your ex-friend/ex-crush as he talked about his ventures with women all over Hawkins. "Do I really have to know about Heidi, Steve?" you were beyond frustrated as you sat in the passenger seat of his car.
It was hard not to notice his hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter every time you said anything. "If you don't want to hear about it, tell me. It's not that hard.." you scoff in disbelief. "Are you kidding me-" he cut you off.
"Uh uh, no more arguing. That's what we agreed upon and I refuse to argue with you anymore." he put his finger in your face as he focused on the road, making you roll your eyes. As much as you enjoyed your times with him, he could be annoying when it came to conflict. "Yeah, whatever, mom.." your snarky comment only enraged Steve more as he pulled into a hotel parking lot. "I've had enough of this. Either you stop attacking me or I take you back home and we never talk again! Because it really sounds like you don't want to do this." Of course, he blames you...
"Remind me again who ditched who?" after no response, you had your answer. "Let's just stay here tonight and we'll go to Murray's in the morning." he starts grabbing his overnight bag, but you couldn't shut your mind off.
"I don't understand why we're doing this anyway. It's all over, isn't it? Will's home and that thing is dead!" you thought back on all the late-night drives you went on with Steve while he explained in detail how his ex just left him for the second time. You thought it was funny then, seeing how bad he was with women. Now, you just pitied yourself for not being brave enough to tell him how you felt. Felt
Those feelings left a long time ago when he decided to ghost you. "It's a Demogorgon, and don't you wonder why it even came to Hawkins in the first place? Don't you want that lab to be burnt to the ground so all of this can be over? Things keep happening with that damn lab and I don't want anything to happen to my friends and family here. Don't you want to end this?" sure you did, but nothing would change the fact that it happened and the worst-case scenario is that they move locations. You couldn't tell Steve however, he'd go off on another conspiracy rant.
"Fine, I get it." you lay your head back on the seat and look out the window. "Did you really ask everyone? Was I your last choice?" it hurt to know that he would have chosen anyone before you, but frankly, so would you. Steve gave you a look, but you couldn't tell whether it was anger or confusion. Steve wasn't angry at you, he never really was. The truth was, he didn't ask anyone else. He knew you lived for adventures like these.
"Let's just get a room. I'm kinda tired from the long drive." Steve snuck a glance at his watch. After a 2-hour drive with you, he was exhausted. Not because he hated you, but because he couldn't look at you without feeling betrayed. After his shitty friends spread the rumor about you, he couldn't even be in the same room as you without feeling double-crossed. Also, it was now around 5 am. You just nod and open the car door, slamming it for extra effect. Yes, you were mad. He was dodging your questions!
"Can we get a room for one night, please?" Steve shifted awkwardly in his spot. You watched him, how he messed with his disgustingly perfect hair. God, he was so annoying.
"Yeah, sure thing." the man at the counter handed him a key to a room. The hotel wasn't a five-star establishment, but it'll do for one night. Steve opened the door and sighed. "One bed. This is great." He put his bag down and rubbed his face tiredly as if it would magically fix the situation.
"I'll take the chair, don't worry about it." you held your own bag in your hand, watching him turn to you as he shook his head. "No, you take the bed." he sighs.
"Steve, you and I both know you wouldn't get any sleep if I took the bed. You need all the energy for the drive tomorrow. Just take the bed." you appreciated Steve wanting you to take the bed. Unfortunately for him, you both were experts in being stubborn.
"Nope, either you take the bed or I'm gonna sleep on the floor." your jaw dropped, sometimes he was fantastic at getting his way. Charming asshole. "Fine! Neither of us will be taking the bed that we paid for!" You crossed your arms. "I'm gonna go take a shower, you either take the bed or neither of us is sleeping tonight."
You turned your back and ignored the frustrated sigh that came from Steve as he sat on the bed. Steve liked to be a gentleman, and he was beyond furious that you were being so stubborn. He understood though, he wanted to argue with you but he knew it wasn't worth it. Even if he could somehow reignite the friendship, he was sure that he would not be able to look at you without thinking about the rumor about you, that you were using him. He wanted to believe that you wouldn't, but he couldn't take a chance and have his heart broken.
He was enamored by you, and he would have told you if his friends hadn't told him about your secret plan to use him for his money and his popularity. Deep in thought, he didn't see you walk out in your towel after your shower until you were snapping. "Hello? Steve?" he broke out of his trance and tried his best to focus on your eyes. The warm steam from the bathroom made him yearn for a long shower to clear his mind. He stood up. "I'm gonna go get some air so you can get dressed." as much as he enjoyed the view, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, even if he disliked you sometimes.
He sighed and breathed in the fresh cold November air and smiled. It was stupid, how affected he was after such a long time. Friends separate, it happens every day. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Why did you have to be so complicated?
Steve came back inside, only to be met with you sitting on the bed crossing your arms. Shit, what now?
"Alright, tell me what's going on? Why are you so quiet, ignoring me?" part of you felt he was tired of you, the same way you felt when he suddenly ghosted you. "There's a lot we need to talk about and I don't want either of us to go to bed angry. Can we at least try to talk it out?" Steve noted the hopefulness in your voice and it annoyed him.
What was there to talk about? You were using him! Pretending to be his best friend so you could get a leg up in the 'popularity war' in sophomore year! "I'm not angry. There's nothing to talk about." He sat on the chair on the other side of the room, making you laugh.
"Really? Then why are you sitting on the other side of the room?" you pointed out. He didn't realize it himself until this moment. He was avoiding you even when you two were in the same room. He'd rather die than admit that though.
"Oh my god, can you just accept that not everything is a microaggression and that you're not always the victim?" he winced at his own harshness. You stopped fixing your clothing. "Excuse me? Since when have I said I was the victim?" he felt anger boiling inside him.
"Since I knocked on your door, Y/n. You've acted like I've slighted you. Meanwhile, I've only been reciprocating the bullshit you've put me through since we separated!" You scoffed. Is he serious?
"Me? My bullshit? You ghosted me, and acted like we were nothing out of nowhere! Do you know how much that hurt?" Steve stood up and walked towards the door, flinching when you grabbed his arm.
"Don't walk away from me. All this time I've been thinking about why you decided to leave!" He turned around, and his face was flushed. It looked like he was holding back. "Just tell me!"
"How long have you been using me, Y/n? How long have you been leeching off of me and pretending to be my friend?" your heart sank. "What are you talking about?" Steve chuckled and shook his head in disbelief.
"No. What are you talking about? You've acted like you're so upset that we aren't friends anymore but you never even liked me! Using me for my popularity, my money, I honestly didn't think you could ever stoop that low but here we are!" Steve threw his hands up dramatically. He was done, done talking with you.
"Using you? Steve do you honestly think I would do that?" you felt yourself tear up at the thought. He didn't believe you?
"No! Don't try to lie your way out of this! You might have thought you were smart but you got caught. I was too blind to see it but my friends could. They let me know who you truly are, a snake!" he opened the door.
"I need some air, don't wait up for me."
//whew y'all! Are you ready for part 3?? Definitely some angst smut next chapter!! Who's up for some one-bed trope?
#steve harrington#stranger things#stranger things netflix#stranger things angst#eddie munson#robin buckley#steve stranger things#steve fluff#steve harrington smut
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Naruto hot takes part 3: can I PLEASE get a waffle?
1) Kushina and Minato’s relationship was so fucked up. Like seriously she was a genocide survivor and he was a literal war criminal who killed thousands of people. 2) Also the fucking power imbalance - Minato was a prodigy, chosen young to be the Third Hokage’s successor, had close ties to the three Sannin aka the most powerful ninja in Konoha, and seemed to have some connection to the Second Hokage. Kushina may have been a Jinjuuriki, but she was also a refugee without a family or connections. 3) Also Minato was probably a psychopath lmao. He literally doesn’t care about anyone’s problems unless they’re shoved in his face, has no reaction to two of his students literally dying, and puts the third one - as a traumatized child - in murder corps. 4) Yk if he was alive he probably would have been a dad in a similar way as Principal Asano from Assassination Classroom. 5) Konoha probably had a part to play in Ushizo’s demise and it’s why no one ever mentions them despite that the literal Hokage was married to an Uzumaki. 6) Sasuke isn’t the amazing radical savior his fandom think he is lol. 7) Yeah, he was the closest to a radical character throughout the series, but the second he found out why Itachi decided killing his whole clan was a good idea he immediately sided with him and never questioned any of his decisions. When he did claim to want a revolution, his ideas were a) becoming a dictator (Kage) or b) killing everyone in Konoha. 8) He has every right to be mad and you could probably make him an actual revolutionary easily, but still lol. 9) Shikaku was a kind of bad dad based on what hints we get of Shikamaru’s home life. 10) Literally everyone’s characterization - Sakura included - was more interesting, well rounded, and had more potential in Part 1 than Part 2. 11) Sakura should have been a ROOT agent. It makes a lot of sense, especially in Part 1. 12) For how interesting Sai’s backstory was there was very little point to his character. The only reason he was there was to be Sasuke’s replacement. 13) The fact that he could have and should have been more is true, but he wasn’t. 14) Tsunade had a shit ton of privilege as both a Senju and the granddaughter of the First Hokage and that really should have been explored. 15) Both Jiraiya and Orochimaru give me pedophile vibes and I do not like it. 16) There was literally no reason why basically all of the Rookie 9 had to be clan heirs. It makes no sense. 17) Sarutobi Hiruzen was probably senile and should probably never be seen ever again. Please someone destroy his face on that stupid Hokage Wall or whatever it’s called. 18) Hashirama wasn’t the happy-go-lucky guy everyone seems to think he is lol. He was manipulative as hell and probably killed a shit ton of people. 19) The Last is a really stupid movie that showcases all of Studio Perriot’s fetishes in like two hours. 20) The one thing that is realistic is Hinata caring more about knitting a scarf for ‘N-naruto kun’ than her sister being kidnapped. 21) Both Sakura and Hinata are shittily written characters who’s entire arcs in-story revolve around guys. The difference is Hinata is a slave owner and Sakura knows jack shit about politics because no one tells her anything. 22) Hey Kishimoto give your main heroine an actual fucking thematic and plot relevant role that makes her equal to her male teammates as she’s literally supposed to be as their deuteragonist challenge. 23) Oh yeah Rin being a ROOT agent also makes a lot of sense. 24) Please sort out Naruto’s backstory. Did he have no friends or were Shikamaru, Kiba, and Chouji his friends? Did he not give a shit about Hinata or did he save her from a copy-pasted version of Sakura’s backstory? Please. 25) Naruto isn’t empathetic at all he just trauma dumps on everyone and expects them to gush over his oh-so-sad backstory because he had it the worst out of everyone, awwww. 26) And the worst part is it works lmaoo. 27) Kakashi has white man energy. 28) The whole reincarnation plotline was stupid and added absolutely nothing other than making Naruto’s whole thing about being an ‘underdog’ even more obsolete as he was literally destined for power. 29) Honestly if the ramen girl (Ayame?) was younger I probably would have shipped her and Naruto. It would’ve been cute. 30) Fugaku wasn’t abusive lol. Yeah, he wasn’t a perfect dad, but he did care about his kids and didn’t purposefully hurt them. The only reason people make him out to be Sasuke’s abuser is so they can make Itachi into this uwu savior instead of a nationalist responsible for a genocide.
#naruto#naruto uzumaki#anti naruto uzumaki#anti naruto ending#sakura haruno#sasuke uchiha#fugaku uchiha#itachi uchiha#kakashi hatake#hinata hyuga#ramen girl (naruto)#jiraiya#tsunade#anti jiraiya#orochimaru#anti orochimaru#minato namikaze#anti minato namikaze#kushina uzumaki#kushina deserved so much better tbh#shikaku nara#shikamaru nara#anti itachi#anti konoha
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