#kind of like star wars but more beaten up

[mortalityplays]

I love the practice of requisitioning, remixing and reworking books, comics, movies etc. through any means you like, but I hate hate hate the way so much vocabulary that used to be rooted in individual creativity has been taken over by this kind of fucked up deference to mainstream publishing and ip.

easy example: everyone calls the characters they work up for their projects 'OCs' now. that genie is out of the bottle, I'm not even going to try and cram it back in. it's universal terminology. but I do want to reflect - why is the default position to assume that when someone says 'my characters' they mean something derivative, unless they specify 'my Original characters'?

similarly, all character relationships are 'ships'. but what's wrong with that? you say, it's just short for 'relationship'. and you would be right, by merit of completely ignoring the fandom ancestry and common understanding of that term in order to win an argument. because you know as well as I do that 'ships' aren't 'relationships', they're hypothetical romances that the speaker is rooting for. so why do I keep seeing people talk about shipping their OCs? why is a hypothetical relationship entertained and enjoyed by the creator of the work described using fan terminology?

I have for real no joke seen people talk about their 'headcanons' for their own characters, in their own stories. that's not a headcanon babe, that's canon!!! that's YOUR WORK. moreover, why are we even talking about the canonicity of your personal original writing? this isn't the star wars extended universe, why are international franchise IPs setting the baseline for the relationship you have with your writing and the terminology you use to conceptualise it?

tbc this is not a 'fandom brainrot' post. because I don't think it's fanwork that's the root of the problem. I think it's the insidious creep of capitalism and the ever more draconian weaponisation of copyright law that has rewritten our capacity for talking about creative work so that it revolves at all times around ownership and precedent. there is a deep learned anxiety about describing fictional works as fictional properties, that echoes in our vocabulary as we constantly make clear what is owned and what is not, what has been established on the record and what exists in the realm of speculation.

the reason 'fandom brainrot' is such a compeling stand-in for this issue is that it's really just one step downstream from all that voracious rent-seeking behaviour by publishers. if the only things you ever read or watch are in the milieu of those franchise copyright lawyers, that is the understanding of fiction-as-property you develop. if you're not exposed to a broader spectrum of art and artists, living and dead, who talk about their work as work - as expression, as experimentation, as a personal process and as a shared space with their audience - you will quickly be alienated from your own creative practice by design.

the point i want to make is this: going off the beaten track, exploring outside the franchises and bestsellers and box office babies, is not just a matter of good taste. imo it is a necessary act of solidarity with artists who still live, work and speak as individuals. it's a healthier environment for you as an artist. you deserve a relationship with your own work, not a ship.

[wolfythewitch]

Hmm what vibes does Ulysses (UDAD) give. Long hair,,, short hair,,, beard,,no beard,,,,

[system-to-the-madness]

Heart to Heart - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 2 870 Warnings: mentions of war and death Summary: Zuko and you share a quiet moment at the Western Air Temple A/N: Can be read as a oneshot; Part Five of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you)

“So, you decided breaking into a Fire Nation prison would be a good idea, huh?”

Zuko sat at the edge of the ruin of the Western Air Temple, looking out into the valley, his feet dangling in the air. At the sound of your voice, he looked up.

“Well, perhaps not a good idea, but we ended up with pretty good results, I’d think,” he answered, watching as you sat down next to him, your knees pulled up to the chest as if you were cold.

“True, I’ll give you that,” you admitted with a smile. “And I think it’s definitely gotten you some sympathy points from Katara.”

“You think,” Zuko asked hopefully. “I desperately need those. She hates me!”

“Give her time,” you said nonchalantly. “To her you embodied pretty much all that is evil, topped probably only by your sister and your father. She’ll come around.”

“How about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I embody all that is evil to you, too?”

You turned to look at him, taking in his appearance for a good while, making him self-conscious under your intense eyes.

“For a while you did, I guess,” you answered eventually.

Okay, not the answer he had hoped for, but what had he expected? That you confessed you had always known he was good at heart? Hardly. He had tried to capture or kill the Avatar and his friends a few too many times for that.

“But Katara didn’t see you put yourself in danger to free Appa,” you continued. “It made me doubt the things I knew about you. The conversation you had with your uncle did, too.”

Zuko nodded, turning to watch the sky. A few clouds drifted past, thousands of stars lighting up the night.

"I made a lot of mistakes," Zuko admitted. “I can’t blame any of you for not trusting me, for not wanting to trust me.”

“Things are changing, you know,” you told him, reaching over and gently nudging his shoulder. His breath hitched at the soft contact. “You helped Aang to gain his confidence back about Fire Bending. He still has a long way to go, but it’s amazing that he agreed to try it again in the first place. And it’s kind of reassuring that you’re drawing your power not from anger anymore.”

The last sentence made Zuko smile a little.

“It feels different now, my Bending,” he explained. “Before it always felt violent, and… sort of hard, I guess. Like volcanic glass. Even when I trained it always felt like with each shot I fired, I was kicking or punching against a wall. Now it feels like it’s flowing, somehow. Like the heat and the fire is not some wild animal I have to force out, but a power that bends to my will.”

“That does sound like a big difference,” you agreed.

Zuko shrugged. “I’m still not as powerful as Azula though,” he mumbled. “I had hoped that with the new technique I might gain some ground on her, but it still feels like she’s miles ahead of me.”

“Right, you encountered her when you went ‘fishing’, right?” You drew quotation marks into the air, making Zuko roll his eyes in amusement.

“Yeah, she almost would have caught us, doubtlessly to put us in a snug little fishbowl where she could tease us the whole day.”

“This might sound like a stupid question, but,” you hesitated for a moment, “what would you do if you were more powerful than her, powerful enough to easily best her.”

Confused Zuko turned to you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… would you try to kill her? Capture her? She’s your sister after all. Even with all the messed-up things she’s done, nobody here expects you to kill her.”

Zuko turned back to look out over the valley. You were right. All this time, for years, ever since childhood, ever since she had first beaten him in training, he had wished he would be good enough to overpower her. But then what?

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I don’t know what I’d do.”

For a moment he just looked out into the canyon. In the starlight he could faintly make out the other buildings hanging from the ceiling into the abyss. What had it been like when the Air Nomads had still lived here? Every window of every tower must have been lit up, thousands of lights like a mirror of the sky above. Had Sky Bisons roamed between the houses? Drifted slowly through the night? What other animals had populated these temples? Had it truly been as peaceful as he imagined it now to have been? Zuko inhaled deeply.

“The thing about Azula is… I was always chained to her in a way.” He could see you furrowing your brows at him questioningly from the corner of his eyes. “There were no kids my age living in the palace, but Azula had two friends, Mai and Ty Lee. And I was always expected to play with the three of them. Often, I thought it was stupid, they made me feel stupid. I was older than them, and had other interests, but it almost seemed a game to them to find something I hated or would humiliate myself doing… Mai was the only one who would speak up for me sometimes. But only when it was about smaller things; she was too scared of Azula. I can’t blame her. Actually, I ended up dating her for a while.”

“You had a girlfriend,” you asked, but Zuko didn’t notice the hesitation in your voice.

“Yeah, we were together for a while after… after I betrayed my uncle. But I ended things, to join you. She saved our lives, on Boiling Rock. She stopped the guards from cutting the line to the gondola.”

“She sounds like a good person, and brave,” you said quietly. “You must miss her.”

Zuko stayed oblivious to the unasked question in your statement.

“I don’t know… not really. If I’m honest, I’m not even sure why I was together with her,” he shook his head. “It sounds cruel, but the only reason why I got together with her was because it felt like the right thing to do, after returning home. I knew she had always liked me, and somehow, I thought if I were dating someone, it would stabilize the life I was hoping to live. I like her, yes, but not the way you’re supposed to like the person you’re dating. I’m just sorry I was selfish enough to hurt her without a second thought.”

“You’re young, all of us are. I think it’s inevitable to make mistakes when it comes to things like love. Only the luckiest ones can claim to never have hurt someone,” you tried consoling him.

“The thing is, I knew it was going to hurt her. But I kept doing it anyway. Maybe I was hoping my feelings would catch up eventually, but they never did.”

They couldn’t, Zuko thought to himself. Not while the idea of you had taken root in his heart. The thing that made him feel almost the guiltiest, was that even though you were hardly anything like what he had imagined you to be, he still felt enchanted by you. Glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, he only felt his sentiment confirmed. You were sitting there, wrapped in a thin coat to protect you against the chill of the night air, hair dancing slightly in the wind, face glowing from the fresh air and eyes reflecting the stars above. You were beautiful like this, perfect and beautiful. He was sure to never have seen anyone who was as beautiful as you in that moment.

“As I said,” you interrupted his train of enamoured thoughts, “we all make mistakes.”

“Some more than others,” Zuko frowned.

“That’s not what I meant,” you quickly denied. “I didn’t mean-”

“I know, don’t worry,” Zuko sighed. “I’m just upset with myself. I think some things were inevitable along the way. I mean, everyone grows somehow. But breaking Mai’s heart really wasn’t necessary. I could have avoided that if I had been a little more confident in myself.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” you agreed, clearly not sure what else you were supposed to say.

“I’m just hoping, Mai somehow knew we wouldn’t last,” Zuko continued absentmindedly. “We fought, quite often actually. I know I can be difficult, but it also often felt like she didn’t even try to understand me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I know I can get jealous easily, so her anger at me for those instances was probably justified but… sometimes I just need time to think, you know? Not about something specific but… for example there was this war meeting and Azula was invited but I wasn’t. I was upset, because it made me feel like my father was rejecting me all over again, as if I weren’t good enough for him. I was upset and Mai… I know it wasn’t easy for her to see me like that, but it felt like she was trying to distract me so hard. Every time I had a problem or was concerned or worried about something, she tried to cheer me up and distract me, instead of allowing me to just give those feelings space.”

“I know what you mean. Sometimes you just want to give those feelings time, to process everything. Even if it’s difficult. But like you said, it probably was really hard for her to see you unhappy,” you offered your own thoughts, making Zuko nod.

“I guess you’re right. But we ended up getting into disagreements over things like that more and more often. Even if I would have stayed, I don’t think we would have been together for much longer.”

For a while silence settled over you, as you watched the night sky. Zuko wondered why the hell he had just shared all his relationship problems he had had with Mai with you. Maybe because he hoped you would understand him better if he did, would see him more as a human with emotions than the antagonist he had been for you over the past months.

“How about you,” he eventually asked, not sure if he even wanted to know the answer. “Do you have anyone special?”

You shrugged as if it wasn’t somewhat weird for him to ask that.

“Not really. I mean… being on the run from the world’s most powerful army makes it kind of hard to form any meaningful relationships outside of the group,” you answered. “And I don’t mind, really. I’m not like Sokka, who can just flirt with every girl he sees. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable with someone who I haven’t fallen in love with.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“No,” you shook your head, “you?”

Zuko turned to look at you again, taking in your form sitting beside him, knees still pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them, eyes fixed on a point far away.

“No, I mean… maybe once,” he answered. Was he in love with you? He certainly didn’t know you well enough to be in love with you, right? Maybe he was?

“If you don’t know, you probably weren’t,” you chuckled, turning your head to meet his eyes. “I think you’d know when you fall in love.”

“It’s difficult, okay,” Zuko defended, making you laugh quietly.

“Or maybe you’re just bad at figuring out your own feelings,” you offered with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Zuko grumbled and turned his head away embarrassedly. Another gentle shove against his shoulder made him look back at you.

“I’m teasing,” you told him, with a soft smile that made his heart melt. “I’m sorry if I-”

“No, I know, don’t worry,” Zuko took a deep breath. “I’m just not used to being teased without it being with some kind of ill intentions, I guess.”

“Well, Sokka’s gonna get you used to that real quick,” you laughed. By all the spirits, he loved your laugh. “He’s brilliant when it comes to making plans and coming up with ideas, but he’s also the biggest goofball I’ve ever met. He cares more than he tries to let on and is one of the most reliable people I can imagine when things go south.”

“We fought my sister together,” Zuko recalled. “It was weird, a few weeks ago we would have ripped each other apart, but when we went up against Azula together, he really had my back… he makes it very easy to trust him.”

“He does, doesn’t he,” you agreed. “He might not outright say it, but he really appreciated you going to look for his father with him. Thank you.”

“I’m just glad I was able to help. There have been enough families that got torn apart because of me. Knowing I could help reunite at least one is… it feels good.”

You grinned at his side. “It was a brave thing to do, to break into that prison just like that.”

“Brave? More stupid than anything, but thanks.”

“Bravery and stupidity are not as far apart as some would like to believe,” you chuckled, making him smile.

“My uncle would like you,” he confessed, watching your smile shift into a questioning expression. “He’d probably share his wise phrases with you all day long.”

“Your uncle sounds like a good man,” you said, and Zuko nodded.

“I think, I understand him better now than I did before. He lost his son in the war, and he was never the same again. I think, he developed a strong dislike for any kind of conflict and when my father exiled me, he decided to come with me… I don’t know why, maybe to save me from the fate Lu Ten met… I think Uncle Iroh was more a father to me than my own father ever was. It’s strange seeing Sokka and Katara with their father, seeing what normal parents are like with their children. It makes me mad at my father, that he wasn’t like that. Mad and… vulnerable, I guess.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” you mumbled. “I don’t remember much of my father, but even my stepfather was always caring towards me. I’m sorry you didn’t get to experience that.”

“I guess, over time I’ve gotten used to it. Which didn’t stop me from begging for his approval, I’ll admit that. But now… I just hope I can see my uncle again and apologize to him for all I’ve done. After all these years that he accompanied me… I don’t know how I can make up for all the support he has given me, and how I betrayed him.”

“I’m sure when the time comes, you’ll know what to say and do. I think your uncle would be proud to know how you finally stood up for yourself.”

Zuko nodded thoughtfully. He just hoped your words would come true. He didn’t even know where Uncle Iroh was right now, whether he was even alive. If he ever got to see him again… how was he supposed to make up for all his uncle had done for him? How could he ever earn his uncle’s forgiveness after that terrible betrayal?

“Can I ask you something?”

Zuko perked up at your question but nodded.

“Earlier you said… you said your father exiled you,” you carefully asked. “I’d understand if you don’t want to talk about it but…”

“No, it’s fine,” Zuko shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

“Mostly just… what happened?”

“It was… foolish, both of me and my father. It started over-”

Before Zuko could even really begin telling you his story, Toph’s voice carried through the night.

“Katara made hot milk with honey for everyone!”

“Let’s talk another time,” Zuko offered, getting off the ground. His feet felt strange, standing on solid ground again after dangling in the air for so long.

“Another time,” you agreed, taking the hand Zuko had offered you and let him help you to your feet.

Your hand was small and cool in his, and he had to resist the urge to keep his fingers closed around yours, just to feel your skin against his for a short while longer. When he hesitantly let go of your hand, it felt like a wave of ice was spreading from his heart, and he immediately ached for any sort of contact with you again.

He really was an idiot, wasn’t he, he wondered as he followed you past some rubble back to the others, who were sitting around a campfire. Seeing all these people, who so willingly had adopted him into their group, another ache, the warm and gentle kind, spread through his body. After all this time, for the first time in his life, he felt like he truly belonged somewhere. He had earned his place in this group. And when you motioned for him to sit down next to you and offered him a cup with steaming hot, sweet milk, he couldn’t help but think that he didn’t want it any other way.

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[cameoliob]

Please tell me more about Anya kallus

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE

For anyone hesring about Anya for the 1st time theres also this post about her with all kinds of background info BUT I DIGRESS

Alright, so I want you to imagine the sweetest, most hard-working, lovable girl in the whole wide world

Yeah thats Anya

Now, Anya was a victim of a VERY unfourtunate series of events; her father dies, her pregnant mother crashes tf out and leaves her with her baby brother, the Coruscanti foster care/adoption system is SHIT so no way in hell is she subjecting her brother OR herself to that shit, so, DESPITE THE FACT THAT SHE GRADUATED EARLY WITH SEEVVVERRRALLL OFFERS TO FANTASTIC COLLEGES, decides to raise her brother full-time because thats just the kind of person that she is.

Somewhere along the line she realizes that she's become Mum which is insane because Anya has the self awareness to recognize that she is a CHILD raising another CHILD, all because their Mother just FUCKED OFF and for WHAT

But she does her best. And her best is ALOT.

Working 112 hours a week, living in the lower levels, raising a kid, trying not to LOSE said kid every time they go somewhere because he just WANDERS (Alex was a leash kid, prove me wrong)

She works at 2 diners (an 8 hr shift at each, every single day), mostly because the tip money helps her save up for Alex's birthday every year

And even though she works 16 hours a day, she finds time for the little things, like helping Alex with his homework or reading him a book before bed.

And when she gets time to herself (which is not often), she likes to sit down and play the guitar (or whatever the Star Wars equivalent is). The one she has is old, and beaten, but it was her Dads, and she just misses the days when she'd come home from school and he'd be sitting on the couch, strumming a tune that her mother would hum from the kitchen. And Anya would sit down and ask him to teach her how to play the chords because her homework could wait.

She's not shocked when she learns that she's sick. Everyone in the lower levels does at some point. She had just hoped that he's see Alex get off of Coruscant before she did, but this planet had never been kind to her, and that was not a luxury that it allowed her to have.

She just hoped that she raised Alex right. Right enough that, even when she was gone, he'd stay as kind and as hardworking as he'd always been. She just hoped that-- even if she didnt get to see it-- he'd live a life free of the burdens that she'd had.

As she laid dying at 33, she just hoped that Alex would live a life longer and happier than hers had been.

[n7cloacadestroyer]

"ACAB applies to Garrus"

I've heard this independently 3-4 times over the past week, and it strikes me as such an odd thing to say. Not because it isn't true--we know Garrus wasn't above working a suspect over if he thought it would make them talk. Like, he wasn't just a cop, he was kind of a dirty one. Not in the same way as someone like Harkin, but definitely in the "you better hope his hunch doesn't lead him to you or you're getting beaten with a rubber hose until you tell him what he wants to hear" kind of way. Which is arguably just as bad, if not worse.

No, the reason it's such an odd thing to say is that ACAB honestly applies to about half of the characters in the visible universe of Mass Effect. It's a very "save us, military industrial complex," sort of narrative in many respects--up to and including the part where all the politicians and diplomats basically have "beta cuck," or "dick dastardly's understudy," tattooed on their forehead with very few exceptions.

That's just something you have to accept if you want to enjoy the series. It's a star war, not an insightful commentary on power structures and the abuse of the people therein.

If you want to evaluate it as one, then there are quite a few bigger fish in this particular pond. The Citadel Council alone is one of the most abusable legislative mechanisms conceivable, and admission to their ranks is predicated solely on approval by the current Council. The council whose individual votes would be weakened by adding another member. Not to mention that the idea of an individual speaking for their entire species is bananas on its face.

And not to put too fine a point on it, but Shepard is a fed. Like, a "clandestine intervention and special operations" kind of fed. ACAB absolutely applies to them too.

The Point™: The Mass Effect universe was created solely to facilitate a role playing game in which the player had more narrative freedom than was typical of AAA titles at the time. If you apply any degree of knowledge regarding sociology or political science, the thing falls apart faster than the M-44 Hammerhead. Basically anybody who has spent more than five minutes thinking about it could tell you that. Anybody can also tell you that if the game mirrored an effective and equitable political process, there probably wouldn't be much call to splatter some faceless space pirate against a wall with your dark energy mind powers. If you want to be all cinemasins about it, that's your call, but I don't think you would make a very good action game going about it that way.

I'm not trying to say that you're wrong if you don't like Garrus. It's a matter of opinion, first and foremost. There are valid reasons to dislike him. Like his elevator conversations, for example. But it's more than a little disingenuous to pretend he is uniquely or egregiously problematic in his abuse of power while we control Commander Shepard--the literal avatar of abusing their power with little to no consequences.

[willowthewiisp]

Lore points in the dlc that piss me off and make no sense

The greater will going AWOL after sending the elden beast breaks so many lore points I'm inclined to just straight up disregard it altogether because it makes no sense. The beasts were given intelligence presumably by the greater will. The elden ring existed during the time of the beasts we know that because of farum azula and the elden ring depiction there. The greater will not being around during that time makes no sense. It would make much more sense that the greater will left during the beginning stages of marikas rule and most certainly cutting ties when the elden ring was broken. But to straight up say god wasn't there from day one is so...? Bad??? I can accept the mother of fingers making shit up after the greater will cut her off but there are things that only a god like the greater will can do. what about the eternal cities being banished underground by the greater will??? If GW wasn't around for that time who did it then? What could possibly have that kind of power. It just makes no sense?????

Also the outer god of rot being written out is so bad too because what the fuck did the blind swordsman seal under the lake of rot then??? Was that just bullshit? Malenia wasn't a candidate anymore because she was an empyrean being used as the vessel for the god of rot because it wanted to imprint its age of rot on the elden ring. It literally makes no sense if Romina is the creator of rot if she's not an outer god.

and another thing, if all the numens in the shaman village were supposedly killed off by the hornsent or maybe even sacrificed by Marika (who knows) who were the black knife assassins and how were they numens associated with Marika if supposedly they were gone.

Why is rellana in the land of shadow have I missed something.

Why is there one crucible knight here.

If Marika was so traumatized by the saint jars why did she fucking allow living jars and why did she allow the jars in general to feed the erdtree. I don't believe this whole narrative that Marika is a tragic baby hurt by the evil hornsent for a second. Her entire backstory and foundation reeks of white colonizer to the point I bet those fuckin numens came here and tried to start shit. Anyways.

I know this horse has been beaten to death already but why on earth would radahn agree to be a consort to a god who wants an age of peace if "war suited him". He held the stars in place to probably protect ranni (and sellia) but also to help the golden order because we know the golden order wasn't a big fan of reading the stars and shit. He was a huge fan of Godfrey, and saw his father as a hero and wore his red hair with honor ( in contrast to radagon who hated it). Look I have no idea if radahn is just as fucked up as miquella or not but you cannot deny him being this consort is bizarre and left field. I would have genuinely accepted godwyn of all people over radahn. Godwyn was a powerful warrior he defeated the dragons but he was also kind and compassionate because he befriended fortissax to the point that dragon bro was ride or die and allowed himself to be eaten alive by deathblight. Also hello miquella literally calls him lord brother. Godwyn being revived was literally miquellas big plan other than curing malenia. So why the fuck was radahn chosen??? It's not like godwyn was dead when miquella was born and shit???? Also?? If mohg had to be used it would make kind of sense that he was used for godwyn since they share the same mother and father rather than radahn who didn't share either Godfrey or Marika (yes I know radagon is Marika). It would have probably been easier for godwyn to sink into mohgs body since they shared actual blood.

If marika was so very traumatized and hated everything having to do with the crucible and the hornsent why the hell would she allow Godfrey to have crucible knights as well as other crucible vestiges.

There's more but I'm just flabbergasted by the lore direction in general. It's almost like two different writing teams are at work.

[auraisereigh]

"For the love now lost, for endless pain"

Chapter 7, Part II

Brennan Sorrengail x Riorson reader Blurb: Upon Star's return to Riorson house she finds back a flicker of hope. wc: 2.1k ☆ SPOILERS FOR THE EMPYREAN SERIES. Actually quite peaceful. Nothing really to note. Let me know if i missed something. Uses pronouns: she/her. i use Star as a nickname as y/n sounds weird, and i'm awful with names.

A/N: Part two! This one is shorter but it sets up some events for the following chapters hehe.

Star's masterlist main masterlist

I stay by the lake for hours, taking in it's calming nature. It's the first time I've felt some kind of peace in the last month and half, if not longer.

The sun starts to set, making the water seem more magical than it already looks. My magic is still spread out over the lake but it stopped moving, showing that even my magic is at peace. Now that is rare.

By the time the night sky rises I decide it's for the best to go back home. I follow the way of the river back to Riorson house. It's calm, the moon reflecting in the flowing water. There's a part of me that doesn't want to leave, that wants to live in this peace forever.

The guards that guard the gate tell me it's almost midnight upon my arrival. Once I walk in the castle it's almost completely quiet. There is a darkness that falls over the castle at night that's only beaten by the small mage lights that dance in the darkness.

I pass by the mess hall where a few staff are still cleaning and I take some bread with me. I snack on the bread while I make my way to my room. I shut the door and sigh. It will never be easy to walk through the family quarters now that no one's here, now that's it's so quiet and abandoned.

My bed still looks like someone fought a war in it and besides what I cleaned today it's still pretty much a chaotic mess.

I get out of my day clothes and out some grey sweats on with a matching grey shirt, comfortable for sleeping. I lit some candles for light and sit on my bed, finishing the last of the bread. It's then that my eyes fall on my desk. Another meal and two letters, one small, one big.

I walk over to my desk, the meal is a simple spaghetti without cheese, a glass of Cassis juice. I look over at the letters, one is definitely Brennan's. The other has a wax seal that's been torn, I push the two halves together and recognize it as the symbol of House Lindell. I waste no time opening the letter.

Dear miss Riorson,

Its been brought to my attention that you've been wanting to see your brother. At the time that letter was sent that was not possible, I had to protect my own life too. I knew Navarians would come to look whether bother Xaden Riorson and Liam Mairi were here. A few days ago that happened and I highly doubt they will come again any time soon.

With this letter I wanted to Inform you that I have a proposal for you regarding the two boys; I will bring the boys to you, reunite you with your brother but at least once a year during reunification day I will have to borrow the boys to keep up my reputation, they're both to be expected each year at the reunification ball. This is the only time you will have to bring them back to me. Take it or leave it.

You're brother has been in good hands, he's been taken care off and his injuries are slowly healing. He's been resting most of the time, as I advised.

My condolences regarding your family, I cannot imagine how you must be feeling, to lose your family at such a young age. Your father was a great man and I will always be in his debt, now yours. If you need anything let me know. Take your time, the throne is not important right now. Mourning is.

Greets,

Lord Lindell.

Taken. No doubt, if I can have my brother I'm taking it. I put the letter down and try to contain my excitement at seeing my brother again but I cannot help the relief I feel, the pressure that's been taken of my heart.

I look at the second note, easily recognizing Brennan's scribble.

He fought in battles far away,

And never saw the break of day.

Her tears fall softly with the rain,

For love now lost, for endless pain.

B.s

It's all written in Tyrrish, broken tyrrish but still Tyrrish.

Maybe he is not that bad, maybe he truly means what he says. Naolin trusted him and he probably knew his real identity. Then why can't I try that? Maybe i should try to talk to him, hear him out.

Tomorrow. That's a promise.

☆

Taglist: @honethatty12 @smashee0789 @awkardnerd @randomperson1234sblog @bangtanxberm

[alittlehurtwithyourcomfort]

The Dragon Prince Whumplist

Character: Callum (voiced by Jack DeSena)

Age Rating: TV-Y7 (FV)

Show available on Netflix

Genre: Animation, Found Family, Action, Adventure, Fantasy

Synopsis: In the magical land of Xadia, magic comes from six primal sources: the sun, moon, stars, sky, earth and ocean. When human mages create a seventh kind of magic -- dark magic -- they start capturing and harvesting the unique magical creatures they need as ingredients, which sparks a war between Xadia and the Human Kingdoms. Three kids from opposite sides of the conflict -- two princes and an elven assassin sent to kill them -- discover a secret that could change everything and decide to join forces and go on an epic journey. That trek could be their only hope of ending the war and restoring peace to both worlds. (Via Google)

Notes: This show is GOOD. If you like ATLA, you'll enjoy this. It gets progressively darker and more violent as the show goes on, so fair warning for that. The relationships between the characters are amazing, and there's also great diverse representation! I highly recommend.

TW's: Violence, mild blood/gore, death, child abuse/neglect, child endangerment, mild emetophobia

List Key:

bold = most whump, best whump, or favorite whump scenes

~ = a scene break

THIS LIST CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

1x01: sparring ~~ upset, argued 

1x02: teary-eyed, emotional goodbye ~~ knocked around, holding his head ~~ threatened

1x03: betrayed, stressed ~~ manhandled, restrained, voice taken (by magic), heavy breathing ~~ scared, gets voice back and coughing ~~ terrified, shocked and teary-eyed, out of breath

1x04: stressed ~~ held at swordpoint 

1x05: stressed

1x06: extremely worried, scared 

1x07: emotional conversation, stressed 

1x08: scared

1x09: scared, stressed 

2x01: sad, stressed

2x02: extremely emotional, sobbing ~~ grieving

2x03: grieving, worried, teary-eyed ~~ sobbing, comforted ~~ betrayed

2x04: stressed

2x05: grieving, stressed

2x06: crying

2x07: glowing eyes, passes out, concern for him ~~ helped to stand, weak

2x08: helped to walk, delirious, weak ~~ in pain, delirious, unconscious ~~ terrifying dreams ~~ concern for him ~~ struggling to breathe, concern for him

2x09: still struggling to breathe, held, concern for him, wakes up gasping

3x01: stressed

3x02: none

3x03: stressed

3x04: stressed

3x05: stressed 

3x06: emotional

3x07: out of breath, almost passes out

3x08: frustrated 

3x09: stressed ~~ choked, gasping for air  ~~ crying, terrified, almost falls

4x01: stressed ~~ startled ~~ solemn, crying 

4x02: stressed, startled 

4x03: angry ~~ solemn

4x04: angry ~~ scared, choking, half-collapsed, possessed, body puppeteered, glowing eyes ~~ still possessed, concern for him, collapsed, unconscious, held

4x05: crying, choked up ~~ emotional conversation 

4x06: stressed

4x07: emotional conversation, "i need you to kill me", talking about possession

4x08: stressed ~~ sleeping spell, weak, collapsed unconscious 

4x09: rough awakening, scared

5x01: stressed 

5x02: stressed

5x03: stressed 

5x04: terrified, worried about his aunt 

5x05: stressed 

5x06: none

5x07: half-collapsed, magical exhaustion, struggling to breathe, helped to stand, supported, concern for him ~~ tired ~~ hands chained behind his back, chin grabbed/manhandled

5x08: unconscious, chained to a pole, shaky breathing, slowly waking up, scared, threatened, electrocuted/beaten (off-screen)~~ slowly waking up, still chained, blood and bruises on his face, heavy breathing, in pain, chin grabbed/manhandled ~~ scared ~~ manhandled, hands chained behind his back, stumbling, collapsed/forced to his knees, concern for him, weak ~~ extremely worried, yelling, angry, knocked out ~~ chained, struggling, pained voice, collapsed ~~ weak, "blood freezing", choked, gasping in pain, struggling, dropped, struggling to breathe, concerned ~~ sad, concern for him, hugged, guilty 

5x09: concerned ~~ slammed into the ground, restrained 

[look-at-the-soul]

Straight to the heart

Tommy Shelby x reader (Nurse)

After spending day and night for two weeks with nurses in the house while taking care of my grandma I couldn’t stop this idea running around my head.. this is set around S3E6… sending love and blessing to all the medical staff out there! Edit: Granny is doing so much better now, she can’t wait to go out already lol and now she says she misses us being with her all the time 🥺

Please note I’m not related to the health department, just what I read/watch.

Gif credit to @thesoldiersminute thank you for always keep up with my ideas!!! ☺️

Walking into the intensive care unit, Y/N was asked to immediately attend a new patient who arrived recently, she would only cover the night shift. He had surgery a few days ago and the doctors didn’t know yet how his body would react.

Y/N felt bad for the poor man, he was severely beaten, the damage in his brain still unknown, he was under high doses of medication. Most of his levels were out of proportion.

Right there he looked so helpless, vulnerable even. And even though the bruises and lightly swollen skin, she could see he owned some kind of privileged looks; thick lashes fanning over his cheeks, sharp cheekbones made him look like he was sculpted by a generous Greek God. If it wasn’t for the metal helmet on his head, she would swear he was only sleeping.

Sighting, she wrote down his records, adjusted his medication and left to attend her next patient. For the rest of the day, Y/N repeated the same actions without anything extraordinary or out of normal happening.

“Good luck on the night shift, Y/N” Jackie wished as she picked up her belongings.

“Why would I need luck?”

“You don’t know about that man at the 32?” Jackie squinted her eyes at her colleague.

Y/N shook her head as she organized the paperwork of the day. How would she know? She barely knew this area of the hospital. She wanted to stay out of any gossip or saying that was going around, but Jackie still decided to share the piece of information she heard in the hall. Letting Y/N know he was the infamous gánster from Birmingham known for cutting people’s eyes.

“His sister said he’s a war hero, but I know he’s a criminal, he deserves it.” Shaking her head she added; “his family requested a private room.”

But to Y/N all patients deserved to be treated equally, not taking into consideration their past, mistakes or anything else.

“Have a safe walk back home.” Y/N wished Jackie, hoping the other nurse would leave soon so she could resume the night visits to every patient, she had a long night ahead, starting with a young boy who had an accident at one of the factories.

Walking into Mr. Shelby’s bed close to midnight, Y/N noticed him sweating, shaking a little. Touching his forehead, she realized that he had a high fever. Rushing back to her unit, she grabbed towels and a bowl that she then filled with water.

Checking on his temperature, the thermometer showed 40ºC, so without wasting any more time, Y/N proceeded to provide medication to bring down his temperature. With a damp cloth, she pressed his neck, chest and forehead.

He was mumbling something she couldn’t understand, it was probably something that didn’t make sense, or another language she didn’t know… but as she moved to wet the washcloth one more time, his words were clear;

“Don’t leave me.” His hands got tense. “I need you.”

His frown grew deeper and when he opened his eyes abruptly, one of his hands accidentally hit Y/N above her right eye.

Y/N removed the covers from his body, as well as the upper part of the hospital gown.

Pressing the wet cloth against his hot skin Y/N got lost in the freckles on his chest, it reminded her of the previous night full of shining stars.

“Mr. Shelby, you’re alright, take a deep breath for me.” His breathing was erratic, his gaze lost, nothing he was saying made sense, he was talking about saving his mother and a Prussian boy, he then mentioned the name Charlie. “You’re at the hospital Mr. Shelby, take it easy.”

As Tommy looked around, he took in his surroundings, the pale skin of the nurse attending him contrasted deeply with the small crimson river of blood coming out from her eyebrow.

“There you go, that’s it, deep breaths.” Y/N smiled relieved that the fever was going down. Checking his eyes, his reflections seemed to be perfect, as well as the rest of his vitals. He tried to touch the metal around his head, but Y/N moved gently his hand down.

She helped the man to sit up slowly in the bed and after adjusting the pillow in his back, she offered him some water, to help his system fight the temperature.

“Are you feeling better?” Y/N asked after a few more minutes.

Tommy nodded, still altered by the mixed nightmare he just saw, his mother asking for help, she was dangerously close to the river and when he tried to grab her arm to move her away, he saw Charlie drowning, as he was about to save his son, the Prussian boy appeared from nowhere and sent him to the ground.

“It’s late, you might want to have some rest.” Y/N announced gently changing the pillow since it was soaked.

“I can’t go back to sleep.” He murmured after a few seconds. “My head ‘s pounding.”

“I can give you something for the pain.” But his hand stopped Y/N’s intentions to walk away. Gently and in a caressing motion, she placed his hand between hers, one on top and one under. “Is going to be alright.”

“Can you stay here? With me?”

And with that Y/N was able to see the bluest eyes she had ever crossed paths with, so transparent, so full of fear, so vulnerable. He locked his eyes with her and she got lost in a deep ocean, soft waves crashing against her.

So broken.

Empty even.

In the war she had seen endless horrors, men without a leg or an arm, people who lost their eyes, but nothing compared to what Y/N saw in this man’s eyes.

“Right, just let me call the doctor and I’ll stay here for a little longer, all my other patients are sleeping.” Y/N took the empty chair resting close to the door and brought it closer to the bed.

“Lucky they can.”

Y/N chuckled and in the process, she found the ghost of a smirk in his lips.

“I could give you something to sleep.”

“Oh, so you don’t have to deal with me?”

Y/N looks at him scandalized. “No, I meant it so you can rest.”

“That’s for the weak.” Tommy stated taking a deep breath.

“Are you sure you don’t want something for the pain?” Y/N tried again suppressing a yawn.

“I’ve the heart of a horse.” Tommy winced as her cold hand came to circle his wrist, she looked at her watch and then wrote down something in a chart. She then checked again his temperature. “How long have you been a nurse?”

Her features turned into a bittersweet expression.

“I volunteered as a nurse during the war, to be close to my husband.”

Tommy fixed his gaze on her. “The Somme?”

Y/N nodded. “Blackwoods, but he never came back.”

“Sorry for your loss.” Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief, which she found on top of the cabinet with the rest of his clothes.

“Thank you, I hear you’re a hero.”

Tommy chuckled tilting his head.

“That’s overrated, I saw more men dying than I saved. Now you, on the other hand are a real hero, Miss?”

“Y/N Y/LN.” She smiled gently.

“Pleased to meet you, Thomas Shelby.” He extended his hand with a groan.

“How did you end up here with an injury like that?”

“I stumbled.”

Y/N didn’t believe that for a second, but she was glad to see that even in a situation like that, he felt like joking, it was a good sign.

“The door must’ve been heavy.” She joked, immediately regretting her own words. ”Sorry.”

“Bad choices brought me here.” Tommy admitted, his hands instinctively looking for a cigarette. “Can I have a smoke?”

Y/N stood up to take a cigarette and light it for him. “Hopefully you won’t make those again, you were very lucky this time.”

“You’d be surprised, sometimes I think trouble simply enjoys following me around.”

“You’re like a magnet then.”

She then decided to stay silent as she saw him with his eyelids closed, maybe tiredness took him finally in, that would be good, because then she would be able to close her eyes momentarily and…

“Has anyone came…?”

His deep voice pulled her from snoozing. Y/N nodded and informed him that his sister visited the previous day. And his aunt the day he had the surgery.

“Do you want me to let someone know?”

Tommy shook his head at first, closing his eyes. Who would give a damn about him?

“Jeremiah, Jimmy he’s a preacher.” He whispered after a few minutes.

“I know him, we’ve worked together helping people in need.”

Why that didn’t surprise him?

“That tells me I’m in good hands.” He ran his cigarette over his lower lip, while a light shade of pink covered her cheeks and neck.

“Thank you for helping me keep my eyes open.”

Tommy then winked. “Anytime love, you know where to find me.”

Y/N told him she would get him a new gown and take a quick look at the other patients, but she would be back before he could realize she was gone. In her absence, a doctor entered and after evaluating the information in his chart, asked a few insignificant questions and left him alone. Tommy wondered if she would be back soon.

“How was your round?” Tommy asked eyeing her by the corner of his eye.

“Fine, most patients are fast asleep except for one.”

“Sorry to keep you up, it gets boring here.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled. “What are you talking about? The fun has just begun, you need to stay for a few months.”

But Tommy being Tommy, he had another ideas.

“I’ll be out of here this week.” He stated firmly.

They stayed in a comfortable silence, until Tommy saw the nurse leaning forwards, at the end of his bed, close to his feet, within seconds, he realized her breathing changed and she was fast asleep, forehead resting on one arm, at some point, she turned her head to the side, so her features were facing him, and he finally noticed the mole close to her lips…

The following morning, Jeremiah entered the hospital room, a beaming smile on his face, Tommy motioned him to be quiet, pointing at the sleepy nurse.

The poor thing worked the previous night taking care of a patient at home, then her regular shift at ER and finally she was asked to cover the intensive care unit as well.

Looking at the feet of his bed, Y/N was peacefully sleeping in an uncomfortable position that would probably hurt her neck and back, she assured him over five times she wasn’t tired first, then that she didn’t need a pillow, she wasn’t going to fall asleep, but in the end, her body claimed some rest. Her lips were partially open, her features relaxed, she exuded calmness through every pore.

A peace he would kill for.

“Looking good Tom.” Jeremiah whispered, walking around the bed, to the opposite side were the nurse was sleeping.

“Now everyone will shave the side of their head too.” Tommy joked.

Before Y/N fell asleep, she got her pocket mirror, helping Tommy to take a look, it disgusted him to see the helmet, and the dark circles under his eyes, paler than he usually was, but Y/N assured him, nothing of that mattered, he was alive.

But Jeremiah couldn’t hold back the laugh at Tommy’s comment, and Y/N woke up.

“I’m so sorry I fell asleep!” Y/N quickly apologized and walked out from the room, returning a few minutes later after a quick trip to the bathroom to refresh herself and as she walked over to the bed to check one more time for Mr. Shelby’s vitals, she overheard a conversation that concerned her.

“Jimmy, I need you to bring me some papers, the keys to the first drawer are on-”

“Mr. Shelby you can’t work right now.” Y/N looked between her patient and his friend, her whole body protesting for sleeping in that position.“You need bed rest, physical therapy and nothing that stresses you.”

Tommy chuckled and his head hurt from the effort.

“I’m sure Polly can manage for a while, you need to follow her orders.” Jeremiah stated before touching Tommy in the arm, followed by a wink. “He’s a bit stubborn, just so you to know.”

He thanked then Y/N for taking care of his friend and left them after that.

“I didn’t mean to sound bossy, sorry Mr. Shelby.”

“Call me Tommy, please.” Making an effort to look at her, he found a deep frown. “What’s the matter?”

“The doctor prescribed Morphine to your own judgment?”

“It’s for the pain.”

She knew this kind of high dosis could represent a big threat for the patients, it should be administered by someone who knew what they were doing, but it wasn’t her place to discuss that, so she only shook her head.

“Thank you, for not letting my nightmares hunt me last night.” Tommy whispered. “And sorry for that.” He then pointed out to the now clear cut on her eyebrow.

Y/N smiled brushing it off and left to do a quick check on her patients. Later, when she returned, she found Tommy sleeping, and just like he did the previous night, she let him sleep, hoping the nightmares would leave him alone.

***

When Tommy woke up again, he didn’t found Y/N back, no, there was a rude and grumpy, old nun making noise, disturbing the small peace he was able to reach.

After a heated argument, Tommy didn’t hesitate to point the revolver at her, he just wanted to scare her though, in that condition he wouldn’t be able to shoot properly, but it worked, because she mumbled he would be burned in hell and left. A doctor came in shortly, sweating, worried he would kill him there.

“Where’s Y/N?” Tommy asked cleaning his weapon with the sheet covering his lap.

“She has the day off, until tonight, she covers the ER Night Shift.” His apple bobbed up and down. “I’ll ask the nurse to check on you.”

“I don’t want anyone but Y/N.” Tommy resisted the urgent feeling to press his forehead, the headache was unbearable.

“She attends the emergency un-”

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Doc… Y/N is from now on my personal nurse.” He removed the security button of his gun. Feeling dizzy, he could see the doctor moving towards the door.

The intensive care unit looked oddly quiet that night, she shouldn’t be here without permission but there was no one to ask around, so she’d only stay for a couple of minutes and go to work at the other side of the building.

“Ah, I see you’re awake now Mr. Shelby, I brought you some tea that will help you with the pain, is strong so I added some milk and sugar.” Y/N smiled.

But the smile soon was followed by a shock, when the Director informed her she would now work as private nurse for Mr. Shelby, but she didn’t even try to gainsay against the new instructions, she just asked a few minutes to move her belongings over the intensive care unit.

“I hope you understand, the other nurse didn’t think I was a nice patient.”

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. “You pointed a gun at her, Tommy.”

“Yeah, yeah, she mentioned I was going to hell.” He retrieved the cigarette case and match from under the blanket, motioning for her to light it for him.

“How are you feeling?” She noticed the helmet was gone, and he could move freely now, slow but better.

“Like shit.”

Y/N looked at the cigarette between her fingers, Tommy cleared her she could smoke in her shift now. “Last night, when you had that nightmare… you mentioned someone… Charlie.”

Tommy ran his tongue over his lips, blinking at the thought of his son.

“I was trying to save him, he’s my son, now it’s just the two of us… his mother passed away.”

The air abandoned her lungs, her heart sank down, the worst pain this man was going through wasn’t for the head injuries, the emotional felt deeper.

“Everything I do, is for him, ‘cause I don’t want him to suffer what I went through.” He admitted.

Tommy threw the covers to the side, determination in his eyes.

Scandalized, Y/N rushed to his side, “what are you doing?!”

“I can’t stay in bed, have things to do.”

But her hands on his chest, held him firmly.

“You need to take it easy, it takes time to heal and recover.” Shaking her head, Y/N covered him again. “You hired me to be your nurse, and as such you’ll have to follow my orders.”

With an evident groan, Tommy allowed her to adjust his pillow, taking the revolver in the process.

“And I’m keeping this somewhere safe.”

“Fucking hell.” He scoffed.

***

Of course, he wasn’t out in a week like he said, Tommy needed medical attention and professional equipment to monitor his progress, the doctors didn’t even care he was using his pipe when the pain was too much.

During the following days, Y/N stayed by Tommy’s hospital bed day and night, helping him to stand up once the doctor cleared him out to walk around, she read out loud endless books and news to him, somehow she was his eyes and ears.

She earned completely his trust, he talked to her about things he didn’t dare to say to anyone else. And never complained about how difficult and headache he was as her patient, he lost all his dignity when she had to clean him up in the beginning when he couldn’t move, and kept his nightmares at bay some nights.

Staring into the ceiling, he didn’t even remember what day it was, memories were a bit blurry, but he had enough time to plan, to think, to realize things.

In the loneliness of those cold walls, it was all silent. Just him and his thoughts.

Where was his family? He had gave them all; everything they needed, everything they wanted… money, stability, power, luxuries, properties.

And they had only be around a few times for short and sporadic visits.

No one offered to spend the night with him, just in case he needed something during the night. All he heard was excuses to leave as soon as possible. They had other things to do.

The obscene amount of money he spent with whores to warm his bed for a moment and for what? They wouldn’t even dare to look a man ill in a hospital bed. They were empty, it was nothing more than a chore for them.

Not a single whore was appealing enough the effort now.

Deep down, he felt disappointed.

And heartbroken. If he ever had a heart.

All of the people he helped down the road, weren’t able to pay him a ten fucking minutes visit.

A knock on the door pulled Tommy away from his thoughts.

Y/N entered brightening not only the room, but his life as well.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” She chirped.

“You kept snorting, I had to recover my sleep-hours.” He lied.

“I did not.” Her voice faked indignation towards his words, touching his arm playfully with the package of the gauze.

“Why do you keep sleeping in the chair, when I asked them to bring in a couch for you?” He smirked accepting the biscuits she made for him.

“Trust me, if I take the couch, you’ll never wake me up.”

As she leaned to clean the spot of his surgery, Tommy turned his head and stared into her beautiful eyes, straight to her heart and soul. Wondering if she would allow him to kiss her, almost asking for permission. His hand came to rest to the side of her head, fingers intertwining in her hair… closing his eyes, he let his lips fan over hers, barely touching, teasing, burning and waking up every nerve in her body.

And when their mouths finally collided, time stopped and the fucking world could’ve exploded and they wouldn’t have noticed.

“Just what the doctor ordered.” The corner of his lips turned upwards and small lines formed around his blue eyes as he pulled in his nurse for another kiss.

“Tommy…” she whispered trying to catch her breath, easier than trying to ask her heartbeat to normalize.

“Tell me this isn’t a one side feeling?”

The feeling of his hands cupping her face close to his, made ir harder to shook her head. “No, it’s not that… is just that this isn’t professional. I’m your nurse.”

“Perfect, you’re fired then.” He joked, pulling her down for another kiss.

He would be forever grateful with her for those days when she was all the company he got, for the long talks, and making his most miserable time feel lighter. For encouraging him to walk again and do his exercises.

For being there for him.

He never imagined tragedy would take him to the place where he would meet love and compassion in the same person. He would get his head smashed a hundred more times just to be with her.

After getting more kisses, because he swore the doctor prescribed them, Tommy gave her the envelope with her payment and she almost fainted she saw it. It was more money than she could expect to see in months of working non stop.

“This is too much, I can’t accept it.”

“Y/N you stayed with me when I needed it the most, didn’t ask questions… no amount of money could ever really pay what you gave me.”

He was determined to go back home, promised the doctors he would take it easy and after watching his health improvement, he was discharged earlier than expected. But of course he was planning to have someone taking care of him.

***

Y/N couldn’t believe this was the correct address she was given. Taking a double look at the mansion before her, she swallowed hard.

But the address written on the paper Tommy gave her, was correct. After finishing her shift at the Hospital that day, she would be joining him at home.

Knocking on the heavy door, Y/N waited smoothing her uniform a petite woman in a black and white uniform opened the door. The look the woman gave her up and down made Y/N feel uneasy, worried there was something wrong with her.

“Mr. Shelby hired me to.-”

“I know who he is, I don’t understand why they sent someone lik-” shaking her head, she moved to the side as Polly approached them.

“Thank you so much for showing up earlier, he has been asking for you, I’m Polly.” She gave the nurse a candid smile and looking then at the maid, she added; “Mary please prepare her something to eat.”

“That won’t be necessary Mrs. Gray, I had breakfast after finishing my shift, but thank you.”

Polly guided her around the house, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Thank you for taking care of our Tom all of this time…” Showing her where was the kitchen, the bathroom, everything she might need.

“Is alright, don’t worry about that.”

“I’ve work to do, but I’ll give you a phone number where you can find me if anything urgent comes up, there’s also a driver and a car outside in case you need to use it.” They both walked a long hall, the house was decorated immediately. “My nephew has been talking about you.” She gave the nurse a knowing look. “Something changed, but not something physical, something inside, you gave him his heart back.”

As Polly opened the door to Tommy’s bedroom, Y/N found him playing with his son in bed, bare chest moving the child up and down in the air, his small giggles echoed through the room.

The image didn’t only made its way through her eyes, it went straight to the heart.

*******

And sorry it got long! I couldn’t stop writing for these two… your feedback is always highly appreciated and treasured ♥️ it means the world to me! Thank you for reading.

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @the-forest-witchh @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik

[shadow4-1]

Heart Eyes (Love At First Sight AU/Imagine - Reader x Price) - Captain John Price Edition

We've all had that feeling when we see someone attractive. Of course it depends on the person. Some drool, others get shy or hot in the face. Our pupils dilate, but not enough to notice unless you're unnaturally observant. What if you could see it? What if it was obvious a person like-liked you on first glance?

(Trigger Warnings: SFW, Slight Body Horror, Mild Discomfort)

John had seen more things in his life than most people ever would.

He'd seen war, death, famine, but also hope and kindness. He'd seen love too. He'd seen how it sparked into existence, how it could fizzle out or burn into something more. He'd never actually experienced it for himself, never figured he would to be honest. He was getting older. Most people found their lifetime match in their twenties. He'd seen it happen too many times to count. He'd seen too many recruits or sergeants passing in halls, locking eyes, and never being the same after. Love could do terrible, wicked things to a person, twist them into knots with obsession. Or, if they were lucky, make them better for it. Love was not in the cards for Captain Price, he decided. And of course, just when he was deciding to get comfortable with his fate, love decided to kick him squarely in the chest.

He hadn't felt this weak in years. He doubled over, coughing, his heart beating so hard he felt as if it were going to burst. He went from standing to kneeling, to laying face down on the dingy linoleum floor. He could hear shouts, shoes squeaking, worried murmurs. It was as if his body was slowly giving out, all of his strength being used to keep his poor heart beating. He tried to right himself, tried to get his arms underneath him but it was no use. He wheezed, trying so desperately to suck in a well needed breath. He was having issues seeing as well. Everything was hazy and too far away save for the minute grout lines in the flooring. He spied a pair of white, beaten up tennis shoes in the corner of his eye. His voice wouldn't work, his ears were ringing. Was this it? Was this the way John Price was meant to go out? A goddamn heart attack in the middle of a veteran's hospital?

A couple male orderlies managed to hoist him up into a wheelchair. He felt like a drowning fish, sucking in air that burned all the way down. A doctor began yelling, nearly unintelligible, something about his heart rate. What a fuckin' genius, he could've told them that if he had the ability. His heart hurt, it burned, he clapped a weak hand over it. Why? What happened for him to feel this way all of a sudden? He'd only come to the hospital to visit a recovering team member. He'd been waiting for so long and then a nurse came out to greet him. She was going to take him to the room-

He looked up, finding her standing off to the side, watching the chaos slowly unfolding around her. She clutched onto her clipboard for dear life, tears welling in her eyes. She then glanced down at him. Her eyes met his. 

It was an immediate relief. 

He could suddenly breath again, his tight lungs expanded and he gasped. He grabbed onto the edge of the wheelchair, pushing, struggling against the orderly who was trying to read his pulse. The pressure surrounding his heart suddenly ceased, making his head spin with white stars in his vision. They danced around her face. He felt as if he'd been socked square in the jaw. He hadn't felt this kind of knock out since his first fight as a teenager. 

A light flashed across his eyes and he jerked back, putting his arms up defensively, his nerves finally coming back online. The doctor flinched back with a soft grumble. He made a comment about how John would be perfectly fine. He had apparently just suffered from a heart eye attack, something that no healthy person had ever died from. A heart eye attack? Heart eye? He looked around for a shiny surface. The only one he could find within reaching distance was the aluminum bar of the wheelchair. He forced his still blurry gaze down into it, spreading his upper and lower eyelids apart with shaky fingers. Sure enough, despite his instability, he noticed his pupils had shifted in size and shape. He huffed in discomfort. He'd witnessed the change in other people's eyes, but never expected to see it on himself. He watched in stunned silence as the heart shape of his pupil slowly melted back into its normal, circular shape. He blinked, once, then twice, his vision had retreated back to a perfect 20/20. He swallowed the excess saliva in his mouth and let out a shuddery sigh.

A heart eye attack? Him? But that would mean-who? The last person he'd looked at had been the nurse with a-

Slowly, he turned his head back in the direction of the woman. He let his gaze slowly ascend up from her dingy white shoes, across her scrub bottoms and up towards her belly. He steadied himself, then finally looked up at her face again. She was still watching him with a mix of emotions. His vision went blurry around the edges and yet focused in the center. It was as if his eyes had turned into one of his favorite scopes, blocking out everything else but the warm body of his target. He noticed every little thing about her in vivid detail, down to the individual flutter of her eyelashes. It was as if time had slowed, she'd become his world. And by God, she was gorgeous. He let himself get lost in the beauty that was her face…until reality blocked his view.

A black wall separated him from his new love. It took everything in his willpower to not stand up and swing on the person standing in front of him. A firm hand placed itself on his shoulder. His tunnel vision faded (as well as what he assumed to be the heart shape of his pupils) and he was greeted to the sight of his lieutenant. Simon didn't need to say a word, his grip was enough of a warning. John needed to choose his next actions very carefully or risk ruining whatever future might be in store for him. 

"M' alright." He breathed out, patting Simon's hand. "M' alright."

The doctor asked to check his vitals since he'd started to calm down. He let the doctor finish before shakily standing up from the wheelchair. John had never been one to walk around with his head down, but in this instance he found he had to. Looking at anyone's face felt too wrong, he quietly thanked whatever God out there for Simon's propensity to wear masks.

Despite the scene he'd just made, apparently all was well. The doctor asked the nurse to escort them to the hospital room as she had attempted to before. He refused to look at the nurse's face as she awkwardly greeted both him and Simon again, then led them down a long hallway filled with numbered doors. Door 1367, John MacTavish.

"You go on in." John huffed to Simon, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll b' in n' a minute."

Simon looked at him with his usual, emotionless expression. John could make out the disbelief in the gaze despite it. He gave his lieutenant a sharp nod, letting him know he was being serious. Simon entered the hospital room, closing the door behind him with a click.

John sucked in a breath, quietly hoping the nurse wouldn't be standing there. It would hurt more and yet so much less if she'd wise up and run off. Much to his chagrin, she was still there. 

"Look…m' sorry, for what happened back there." He cleared his throat. "I'll admit, 've never had this happen to me before."

"Never?" She asked incredulously. Despite his best efforts John had to look at her face again. Once more, he was lost in her eyes, the set of her cheekbones, her sweet, sweet lips. Even the slightest imperfections of her skin were stunningly unique, like the formation of clouds in the sky.

  "Never."

[anony-man]

Of all mechs, Starscream found himself dreading any and all interactions with Optimus the most.

Much like Soundwave, the Prime had a way of slipping past his defenses, peeling away at the many layers Starscream put up. Optimus was much gentler compared to the communications officer, however, and knew when and where to draw the line. But given his authority, his role as a Prime, the inherit role model for their planet, Starscream couldn’t deny the resentment he felt.

For a mech with such unlimited power and access to the laws of their land, Optimus should have been taking advantage of it all. He should have sucked their world dry of freedom and rights just like all of Cybertron’s former rulers. He should have struck fear into the hearts of everyone beneath him, taken what now belonged to him, made a show of humbling the rest of his kind.

Had Optimus done any of this, Starscream would have felt justified in his hatred of the mech. As it stood, he was merely another victim of war, desperately searching for meaning in the ruins that had become his day-to-day life.

Optimus—such a kind-hearted mech, too kind for his own good—seemed to catch onto Starscream’s inner dilemma. Unlike Megatron, who would have beaten the truth out of him by now, Optimus remained quiet and non-threatening.

“Ratchet has been a close friend of mine for a very long time now,” he began, scooting his chair closer ever so slightly. “But he sometimes becomes blinded by his own experiences in this war. You can believe me when I tell you, Starscream, that while you reside here in this base, you are safe.”

“Safe,” Starscream echoed, his lips curling into a sneer. “I’m afraid I don’t know the meaning of the word, Prime.”

*****

This is just a small snippet from my story, Your Memory Lives On. If you’re interested in reading more, you can find me on Ao3 under Earth_2_Cinnamon_Roll, or on Quotev under Timberheart. I’ve got lots of Starscream angst to share if anyone’s interested. Making Star suffer is basically my hobby.

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Gul Dukat

By Ames

Last week we expanded our spotlight series to include villains, and like our focus character Kai Winn, this week’s villain is so compelling he deserves his own post. It’s no secret I’m a big fan of Dukat (both my favorite Cardassian and my favorite DS9 villain), but what is it about him that’s just so entrancing? Is it the swaggering charisma he exudes? Is it all the justifications he makes for his clearly villainous actions? Clearly it’s the mile-long neck, right? Well A Star to Steer Her By is going to get to the bottom of how such a bad man makes such a great character.

Did Dukat do nothing wrong? Of course not; he’s a monster, after all. But as a character, he gets so much right, and his performance by Marc Alaimo is so devoted that, every so often, you let your guard slip and root for the guy. He has the sheer audacity to pull off some of the schemes we’ve highlighted below, so scroll on down, listen to us whispering in your ear on this week’s podcast (jump to 1:15:10), and swagger up the place.

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Favorite moments

Won’t someone please think of the children? One of the most impressive things about Cardassians is their ability to scheme for the long term. And Dukat is particularly skilled at scheming. His war orphans plot in “Cardassians” to undermine Gul Pa’dar sat dormant for eight years before it emerged! How many other schemes is he sitting on, waiting for them to hatch into something nefarious?

I spent the last few years building up an immunity to mind melds When Sarkonna tries to mind meld Dukat to extract information, she learns the hard way that Dukat’s mental discipline somehow surpasses hers. And she’s a freakin’ Vulcan! And then Dukat spends the rest of the scene in “The Maquis” sassing at his Maquis captors about how terrible they are at handling their prisoners and how the Cardassians are so much better at it.

Attention Bajoran workers It is downright badass for Dukat to beam in during “Civil Defense” and snark at the crew in Ops about how naive they were to set off the counterinsurgency program… all while standing in front of a ball shooting lasers! We also see more layers of trademark Cardassian scheming when even Dukat’s program is supplanted by yet another directive from Central Command!

I thought the Obsidian Order didn’t have any ships I find it amusing that, while normal Romulans acquiesce to the Tal Shiar in “Face of the Enemy,” the Cardassian Central Command and the Obsidian Order seem to loathe each other. In “Defiant,” Dukat has teamed up with Sisko to get the Defiant back from Tom Riker, and he manages to gleefully expose the Obsidian Order’s illegal ship-building plans on the way!

Cue the fireworks! Cardassians are nothing if not petty. When the Siskos have proven it possible for Bajoran lightships to have traveled to Cardassian space in “Explorers,” Dukat is there to congratulate them. Turns out the Cardassians have beaten Sisko the punch by “discovering” wreckage of a Bajoran lightship right before Sisko arrived. Coincidence? I think not.

You’re my number one dad, give or take Okay, so Dukat was fully planning on killing Ziyal in “Indiscretion,” and it’s the lowest bar for a man to not murder his progeny, but he manages to clear it! Leaving his bastard daughter alive ends up ruining his position and his marriage, but Dukat can’t bring himself to harm his daughter when he finally confronts her. And damn does he look good in a Breen uniform.

The first Klingon Bird-of-Prey ever to be captured by Cardassia Marauding Dukat may be my favorite Dukat. Sure, he lost his status after the news about Ziyal spread, but in “Return to Grace,” he just goes with it! He uses his dinky little freighter the Groumall to actually capture a Klingon Bird-of-Prey, which is all kinds of impressive. And he even has a good rapport with Kira this episode, trying to tempt her over to the privateer life.

Remember to rate your Uber driver While Sisko, Odo, and O’Brien are dressing up like Klingons to infiltrate the Order of the Bat’leth ceremony in “Apocalypse Rising,” Dukat is flying around with his stolen Klingon Bird-of-Prey. He’s even magnanimous enough to bring our DS9 friends to the ceremony, likely as an excuse to show off his spoils and how damn great he looks in a Klingon baldric.

The enemy of my enemy, twice removed If there’s a theme to many of these favorite Dukat moments, it’s the sheer audacity he displays. If nothing else, he always picks the ballsiest moves, which makes for the most entertaining developments. And it’s nothing short of audacious when he reveals that he has allied Cardassia with the Dominion in “By Inferno’s Light” while the DS9 crew picks their jaws up off the deck.

A graveyard the likes of which the galaxy had never seen! Just everything about “Waltz” is spellbinding, which is a testament to Dukat’s character because a majority of the episode is watching him go slowly (and then quickly) absolutely insane. He reveals to Sisko with relish how he believes he was right in how he treated the Bajorans and how he deplores that they never so much as said “thank you.” Ingrates.

Yo Momma jokes, Bajoran edition Is it contrived that “Wrongs Darker than Death or Night” establishes that Gul Dukat took Kira’s mom as a comfort woman during the Occupation? Yeah, a little. And I’ve already given both Sisko and Kira guff for their actions this episode. But you’ve got to appreciate the gall of Dukat, ringing Kira in the middle of the night to drop this bombshell on her for no damn reason.

How do you fight a god? Dukat turns a new leaf when he gets really into Bajoran religion. And sure, all his leaves are evil, but this one is still new! In “Tears of the Prophets” he lets himself get possessed by Kosst Amojen so he could take on the Prophets, and subsequently hit the Bajoran people where it hurts: right in the religion. Sadly it results in Jadzia’s death, but Dukat was just that committed.

Don’t drink the Kool-Aid Another “Oh the audacity” moment from Dukat comes in “Covenant” when he establishes the Cult of the Pah-wraiths. Rather successfully too, I might add! He’s got a decent and devoted little cult going, so brainwashed that they don’t bat an eye when he knocks up [at least] one woman, and even convinces them to go full Jonestown to cover his ass.

A little more than a neck lift If other Cardassians thought it was audacious to jump feet first into bed with the Dominion in “By Inferno’s Light” or watch a Pah-wraith possess him for reasons in “Tears of the Prophets,” imagine how Damar feels when he finds Dukat has gotten cosmetic surgery to try to infiltrate the Bajorans’ ranks in “Penumbra.” This guy. Always upping the ante, he is.

I’m just a simple man of the land By the top of the next episode, “‘Til Death Do Us Part,” Dukat has weaseled his way into the good graces of Kai Winn. And an episode after that in “Strange Bedfellows,” he’s weaseled into her bed. We covered all this in the Winn Adami spotlight, but Dukat’s skill at deception and persuasion are rivaled by none. He plays Winn like a fiddle and she loves it!

Feel our love: the love of the Pah-wraiths Okay, the Prophet stuff at the end of the series treads too far into fantasy for me, but what’s perfectly on the nose is both Dukat’s and Winn’s characterization. Dukat so seamlessly plays Winn into the hands of the Pah-wraiths by “Strange Bedfellows” that it is a work of art. And he gets her to read from the Book of the Kosst Amojen in “The Changing Face of Evil,” sealing their fates and bringing the whole series toward its conclusion. Praise be!

—

What a truly audacious journey! That’s everyone from Deep Space Nine I felt like covering in these spotlights, so next week we start revisiting some of our friends from Voyager! Boy, are we missing them during our watchthrough of Enterprise, for which I hope you’re humoring us by following along on SoundCloud, or wherever you get your podcasts. Summon the Pah-wraiths with us over on Facebook and Twitter, and see what schemes transpire!

[neteyamb]

ashes to ashes: chapter three

pairing: loak x f!omatikaya reader

summary: as a healer, y/n had taken an oath to treat every patient with their best interests in mind. this hadn’t been a problem, until loak’s petty injuries become a routine. she has to swallow her pride and feign concern, feign kindness, and face the ugly hate that has been brewing between them for years. 

tags: enemies to lovers, slight angst, best friend kiri, mentions of blood, mentions of war, language

word count: 2.2k

notes: you know exactky as much as i do what will happen next. its a secret to the both of us, babe!

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

billie bossa nova

love when it makes you lose your bearings / it might be more of an obsession / you better lock your phone / and look at me when you're alone / won't take a lot to get you goin' / i'm sorry if it's torture though / that heavy breathin' on the floor / i’m yours, i'm yours 

nova – a star that suddenly increases its light output tremendously and then fades away to its former obscurity

when the RDA returned to pandora six years ago, young and promising navi warriors got beaten to a pulp left and right. some of them never made a full recovery. now familiar with human weaponry, the omatikaya were able to push back in the war significantly, but this didn’t come without the help of maiya. she was swift to open the doors of an additional healing hut. moat, as tsahik, had hers located centrally in the village while maiya placed hers on the outskirts; readily able to patch up any injured that limped in from the forest by foot. 

the raids became even more frequent, and maiya was quick to recruit new healers. you were seventeen, and roaming aimlessly with empty hands. while you were capable enough to be a warrior, she had convinced you it was better to have another healer than another soldier in the battlefield. at the time there were–what, three or four healers? and thousands on the frontlines? the ratio wasn’t effective, and she urgently needed help. you promptly agreed.

✶✶✶✶

humiliation twisted in your gut as she spoke. “i will not accept this behaviour in my own hut, y/n. you are too old for this.” you look down at your feet, ears ringing as her sharp voice filled the silent room. “do you know how bad it would look if my own apprentice was the cause of our soldiers’ injuries? i cannot allow it.” she rubbed her temple, sighing in defeat. you choked on the air in your lungs as if you were suffocating under the weight of her disappointment. “fix this,” she muttered, “don’t come back until you do.” 

✶✶✶✶

loak thunders into his family’s hut, arm bloody and face pinched. kiri eyes him from the corner, placing her yarn down carefully. “what happened? you’re walking like an orangutan, i can practically see the stream leaving your ears.” he didn’t appreciate the joke, instead flopping onto his hammock with a defiant grunt. “so broody! loak, c’mon. fess up.” he tries to swat her off his conscious like a bug, but she wasn’t having it. “i can’t weave if you’re gonna be mumbling and grunting every few seconds.” he rolls over to face her begrudgingly, and she raises her eyebrows. her words are firm, and he sighs, giving in. “y/n and i got into a little spat. i’m sure maiya’s getting her good right now for it.” he winces, awaiting her response. he knows how it sounds, but you were a little too good at aggravating him. everytime you’re within his eyesight, his gears start grinding like an explosion in slow motion. you were electric, equal to him in emotion as well as verbal combat.

kiri’s eyes fall on his wounded bicep, and she points. “is this the result?” he’s quick to ease her alarm. “no–no, this is unrelated. that’s actually why i went to see her.” her shoulders relax and she takes her seat again. “grandmother’s hut is far closer. you could just go there.” kiri picked up her yarn once more, fiddling with it as she spoke. loak’s gaze lowered and he chewed his lip, hoping that stubborn silence would end the conversation. “you know, if you just pulled your head out of your ass, she might actually like you. she’s cool like that.” loak suddenly felt restless. he abruptly got to his feet, heading out as quickly as he came. “yeah, yeah.” he muttered under his breath, trying to brush her observations off in vain.

✶✶✶✶

your eyes swelled in frustration as you left the tent, but you were too embarrassed to cry. this was your own doing. your feet padded on the dirt, steadily increasing their speed as you travel deeper into the forest. after running for what felt like hours, the air was bitter in your lungs and they heaved with effort. you crumbled beside a small creek, throat still tight like a vice enveloped it as you dropped your feet in the water. you were unmoving for several minutes. a flat stone flies past your arm, and you look in the direction it came from with trepidation creeping into your muscles. loak follows the flying stone with his eyes as it skips over the water’s surface, face stoic. you don’t relax at the sight of him, instead rigidly turning back to the creek as you anxiously run your tongue over your teeth. 

loak stands still for a moment, staring at the tension in your shoulders before apprehensively sitting down a few feet away from you, letting the water lap at his calves. eyes glued to the folded hands on your thighs, you ask, “why are you here, loak?” with quiet defeat in your tone. he begins absentmindedly moving his feet in the water. “i probably shouldn't have done that back there. it crossed a line.” you scowl at your hands, uncomfortable with his pity. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you bristle. there were never apologies, never any outright confrontations like this. not with loak. he throws his head back, sighing through his teeth at the clouds above as a silent plea for the virtue of patience. “cut that shit out. i know she yelled at you.” his eyes drop, watching as you twist your hands. “thanks for the pity, you can be on your way now.” you snap, challenging him as your narrowed eyes bore into his own. 

loak huffed exasperatedly, laying on his back as his feet swayed in the cool water. “when my dad found out the RDA was back, he really grilled us with training. more than before. i got yelled at left and right,” he licks his lips, aware of your now attentive gaze on him. “and it fucking sucked. i’m just saying, i get it.” you hummed lowly, pursing your lips and pinching your brows together. “you probably had it coming,” you inhale sharply through your mouth, “but yeah. it fucking sucks.” this was uncomfortable; toying with an unspoken boundary. you didn’t like the vulnerability that hung in the air. 

you bite the bullet. you knew you had to have a word with him eventually, for maiya, but you didn’t expect it to happen when you were still licking your wounds. “maybe i shouldn’t be beating people up in a healing hut.” laughter rolls through his torso, hands on his stomach. “you did not beat me up, y/n.” you allow a small smile to play at your lips, cautiously shuffling closer. if he noticed, he didn’t say anything about it. 

the two of you sat awkwardly by the creek for some time. loak confided in you about how he felt he didn’t belong in his father’s squad, and you did the same. the conversation was timid, unsure, but wholehearted. as you spoke, his eyes fell to the dip in your cupid’s bow before snapping back up to your bright eyes. it happened so fast, he was sure you weren’t aware. to put it plainly, loak was nervous. your closeness made his heart pound in his chest, and he struggled to control his breathing. he didn’t know where to look; your eyes felt too intimate, but if his were to wander it would be moreso. he restricted himself to watching the gentle breeze rock the water, but still your voice infiltrated his ears, your scent filled his nose. you were overwhelming, everywhere, and it made him uneasy. 

✶✶✶✶

loak had walked back with you to the village, tail stiff behind him. you now stood outside of maiya’s hut, fretfully alternating your weight on each foot as you listened to her soft hums inside. you were close to chickening out, but before you dejectedly turned back, you hear her sigh. “come inside, maite.” you suck in a breath before lifting the entrance flap, looking sheepish. “i am so sorry, maiya. it’s been resolved. please forgive me.” the words are escaping your mouth like vomit. she rests a heavy hand on your shoulder and rustles your hair with a soft smile on her face. “all is well. come, i need a second opinion on this paste.” she turns back towards the counter, mixing peacefully. you’re rooted to the ground for a moment, processing her words slowly, before stepping to her side. 

the sky had grown dark, and you put your fingers to your forehead to bid maiya farewell. as you walked home, something curled in the pit of your stomach. you were sure you had overshared with loak, and regret was creeping its way into your mind. only when you climbed into your hammock did it begin to unfurl. it was unlike him to reach out to you like he had, and you feel skeptical about the unfamiliarity of the situation. hopefully, it was a misnomer you could write off.

✶✶✶✶

it was noon, and loak was flying his ikran closely above the treetops alongside his dad, brother, and a handful of other warriors. the raid had gone as planned, but there were knicks from bullets painting his skin and he was almost positive there was blood running down his spine. as they landed, loak removed his queue from the animal and walked wearily with heavy footing towards his grandmother’s hut; the fact that it was closer than yours and he was exhausted was a bonus, but his main concern was the on-edge feeling you had given him the day before. had he made a mistake, allowing himself to be close to you? he didn’t have the energy to entertain that line of thought. loak peeks into the entrance to find his grandmother already working on several of his colleagues, most of which are substantially more injured than he is. moat sees his shadow on the floor and looks up, pulling a tight smile. “tìrol, i am afraid i cannot assist you right now. will you need help getting to maiya?” he grimaced internally, before responding, “no grandmother, i’ll be alright. thank you.” 

he departed swiftly, feeling pain shoot up his left leg with every step. you were prepared with abundant supplies, already tending to one other navi soldier. in the entrance, he watched your brows pinch as you stitched up a deep gash in the man's thigh. maiya wasped around you, analyzing your skill as she prepared gauze for the wound. loak almost forgot why he was here, why he didn’t come here sooner. his eyes drank in your graceful movements; after you expressed your lack of confidence in being a proper healer, he was sure you would go pale at serious injuries, but instead you worked fast and calm. he watched your hands caress the skin with calculated movements, watched as your smooth voice eradicated the fear in the warrior’s eyes. only when maiya took over with the gauze did you see him in the entrance, stricken with grief at your skill. 

for an awful moment, there were flashes of envy in his gut; he had devoted his life to reminding you that he was better than you, but you were here all this time actively making a difference in the clan while he disappeared into a sea of identical soldiers. and the way the warrior looked at you kindly, with blind appreciation–he had never been able to wear that look on his face with you. loak suddenly feels cheated by life; it was really that easy? his gut became heavy. you offer him a clipped smile, motioning him inside. feeling sick, he was grateful to take a seat on the mat, tucking his legs underneath his thighs in earnest. “how are you feeling?” you ask, already bringing an array of remedies to the mat. “tired,” he mumbles distantly. you trip over your words, embarrassed at his blunt misunderstanding; surely asking on his emotional wellbeing was too intimate? “i mean–well, are there–do you feel any pain anywhere?” he feels dumb, a blush beginning to raise on his neck. “my leg hurts,” he admits uncomfortably. you nod, holding your hands out apprehensively in question.

loak understands, unfolding his legs and pushing the left one towards you silently. you feel for any fracture or break in bone, and allow yourself to breath out when there aren’t any. still, you apply a numbing cream and move to his back. your fingers were so light on his spine they almost tickled, and he shifted awkwardly under your touch. he prayed wordless thanks that he wasn’t in need of stitches; he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. tentatively, you fill the heavy silence. “okay, i think you’ll be fine–” your breath hitches as you move around to his front, catching his dazed eyes with your own. your interactions with loak now felt clumsy, full of doubt and hesitancy, and you didn’t like it; you could no longer predict his thoughts, much less his next move. he clenches his jaw and brings a shaky hand to the floor, pushing himself up and moving his eyes away from you. “thanks, i’ll be on my way now.” you share a look with maiya as he walks off, still shaking.

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

notes: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

taglist: @weasleytwinwheezes

[raevulsix]

Clarification for Death and Dark Troopers; TBB & Mandalorian & Rebels ties + Popular Theories

Disclaimer: This is why shows like The Bad Batch and The Mandalorian were created. To give answers to the mess the Sequels also caused in the timelines. So I already assumed most characters in these shows will result in ultimate tragic fates to explain the creation of certain experiments like Death and Dark Troopers and other kind of unanswered questions in the movies and even certain ties with Video Games and Comics.

I have literally been reading just about every wild theory of what will result in the outcome of the Bad Batch and the later events of the creation of Death and Dark Troopers; as well as the events of the Mandalorian and Rebels beginning to tie to one another. So I want to clarify some things because I know most have been getting a few things very wrong on what is what and the terms used for these guys, as the timelines that parallel with certain shows like the Mandalorian and the Bad Batch, and Rebels. So first things first, Death and Dark troopers are both VERY different from one another. 

Dark Troopers

The Dark Troopers however do not show up until later to eliminate rebel bases during the destruction of the first Death Star. And these were also the next generation of Phase Zero prototypes, so completely more ‘battle droids’ than flesh. 

Now, the first test subjects here were for the project of Phase Zero Dark Troopers. These fellas pop up right about the timeline when Anakin becomes Darth Vader, and experiments begin to unravel below the Empire of what was being done to Veteran Clone Troopers. They were CYBORGS. Part flesh and machine. Not droids.  70% of a clone trooper was replaced by mechanical components. Any missing organ or limb were prosthetics.  

The fate of the Phase Zero Dark Trooper resulted in shut down due to failure because these guys began to defect in ways were most became suicidal due to the fact they were more machine than man, so it was eventually seized.

Phase Zero troopers were deployed around the time of the Battle of Yavin.

[Movies that connect to this is Rogue One after Scarif.]

[We see versions of the Dark Trooper in Live action The Mandalorian, Star Wars The Force Unleashed, and certain other Canon Video Games.]

The one of many Popular Fan Theories regarding The Bad Batch

[Warning to minor Triggers]

Tech. This is why even I along with a few others in the community had joked about a ‘Winter Soldier Tech’ being part of this Phase 0 Dark Trooper theory (mostly also due to denial of his fate & state). To simplify, a fall like the one we sadly seen happen to our beloved Batcher could of resulted in extreme injury even Death.

Falling at such altitudes even with water below will result in Death. I have studied a few forensics to know that falling in a very unprepared state into water is like slapping oneself into flat concrete. You will become pieces and literal mush. 

However, this further theory also comes from the fact that in Season 1, we see fellow Batcher, Hunter, take a fall off the Marauder at a pretty great altitude, that forensically speaking, would have been a deadly freak accident to a normal person. Yet he managed to walk away a bit injured and beaten, so it raised a conclusion if this had to do with any enhancements to his physical state to be able to handle heavy injury upon certain heavy impacts.

Back to Tech—The only way I could see him barely cling to life is noting that the terrain in the background, even if barely visible due to the fog, seemed rigid with mountain peaks and dense forest. The train would had to have gotten caught in these peaks if present below which is not far fetched since the train was pretty large in size. However, this meant Tech, upon impact, because he was held tied to the train by a string, would have swung into those rocks violently a few times hitting any obstacle around. And we know he seems to be the least fragile of the Batch, so this itself could result in broken limbs or heavier injury, and even explain why most of his armor could stay intact or scattered, but scuffed and dented by the impact.

This idea was brought to me by the state of his goggles and I believe because of that, there was retrieval of his body or part of it.  This is where sadly, some including myself theorized, that replacing limbs or organs with prosthetics and mechanical components will signify the beginning of the research and creation of The Phase Zero Dark Trooper. 

(However, this theory also will take years into the making, but not far from the timeline when it does become reality.)

It boggles my mind that Hamlock flew right in like a scavenger to retrieve anything from the crash site. Why? Because Tech is one of the few enhanced clones the Empire had, and this is a prized possession regardless of any state any biological retrieval would be in. DNA can still be extracted from tissue, and better yet if it was in a recent disease state. 

Death Troopers

Now, the

Death Trooper

. 

These were part of a Research Project Emperor Palpatine set to literally retrieve ‘Necrotic Tissue’. In lesser words, kind of bring the dead back to life or certain dead cells to life again.  In other words, nearly a creating zombie-like state troopers.  > However this also came from a NON-CANON Legends novel “Death Troopers”. A gruesome story of a zombie-like lethal disease spread in the “Imperial Prison Barge, Purge”. 

In canon, the Death Trooper is more of an enhanced elite troopers trained to specialize in special heavy combat and weapons like demolition and marksmanship,  and had to meet certain criteria like height, build, intelligence and success rates from their piers . They did also undergo certain “surgical upgrades”, giving them the ability to be nearly super human. Their Lethal rates were high and successful, almost leaving no evidence behind when stationed on their missions. [Note that there were however rumors of these troopers to be the result of a top secret Imperial Military Project to reanimate the Dead.]

[We see these in Rogue One, Rebels, The Mandalorian, Andor, and even certain Video Games and comics.]

Yet another one of the many Popular Fan Theories regarding the Bad Batch

Crosshair. His new armor resembling the popular Death Trooper Armor, and his height, ability, and willing to take lethal measures to accomplish missions all ringed bells to it. Plus, he is a marksman. The many more reasons that tie him to this theory is that Death Troopers specialized in Marksmanship, too. 

It doesn’t have to be clearly Crosshair to also be the one to go into this, any extraction of DNA to create even more clones alike himself can also happen. He is still a heavy needed key subject to do that, though. 

This post can also be updated or reblogged with your own thoughts. Make it a thread, I like to hear more about Theories. If you want me to submit your theory and get tagged to it? I can do that, too. I just like to hear all of it. Even if its to cope with denial after events like The Bad Batch, I like to know anyones takes or if you need Comfort building. Theories are simply conspiracy and not facts, at the end of it. 

[loudestshortstories]

She-Who-Fights-A-Losing-War Pt.1

Sleep wanted Muddy Smith, more than no other. Muddy Smith, always working to save the world. Muddy Smith, who’d die like her mother. Muddy Smith, never again to simply be a girl. She fights a losing war. She’ll sacrifice more and more.

Monday was the Man Who Melts for A Thousand Years. Dead. Tuesday, I think I finally got rid of They Who Took Your Name. Unless they replaced someone else. Maybe They’ve replaced me, and I don’t know yet. Wednesday, both The One Always Behind You and He Who Owns A Little of All killed each other or merged. Let’s hope for the former. Yesterday, [      ] did something, fuck, I still don’t know what [      ] did. Or even what [      ] is. If I make it to tomorrow, I’ll worry about [      ]. Tonight, tonight is all about She Who Bleeds Endlessly. Let’s hope She doesn’t have what I think She does.

A yawn stumbled from Muddy’s mouth as she laid, eyes-shut, atop a roof of some museum she didn’t care to know the name of. Its name, its look, so much of it didn’t matter. Only the sounds did. So, she let her thoughts empty, her eyes stay shut, and her ears listen.

She heard the few awake in this sleeping city; a generator a few feet near slaving away in quiet contempt, crickets screeching in lust for one another, a few cars whispering their profanities as they cruised about, and a single set of shoes torturing stone with rhythmic steps that slowly ripped a little bit away every time they met.

All forced awake, just like her. All working hard, just like her. All more than tired, just like her.

But Muddy sought not sound resonate with herself, but a song. The song of this museum.

A song I wish would come all on its own.

But she heard only a single door squeak, in that embarrassed way a rat might when startled, as it opened then closed. Muddy frowned, the worry lines deep between her brows and only beaten in their depth by the bags beneath her ever-closed eyes. She shouldn’t waste time, she couldn’t really. Yet the feel of a thousand tiny rocks across her back felt comfortable in that way leaning against a wall or someone’s shoulder did when you needed to close your eyes for a scant few seconds. That sneaking comfort that took you the moment you fooled yourself into thinking it’d only be for a minute.

But it’s never a minute. Even if just a minute would be too much kindness.

Muddy’s frown deepened, the depth of her eye bags deeper still, before a sigh escaped her and she hummed a little tune. A wordless lullaby that massaged the brain and told the eyelids to clock out. A wordless lullaby always intended as a preamble to another song.

A song finally coaxed out by the honey that is one of the Lullabies. 

Its melody was somber and slow, the way all buildings sounded no matter their age. This one drowned in its somberness, its melody less the common sniffle of its contemporaries and more a deep cry that begged to be heard. But somberness and torpor defined the crying melody for but a few moments, before it rose and sped up into a scream fueled by rage and electricity.

You’re it.

Muddy sat up, her next yawn tripping on its way out as she reached into her left pocket and brought out a bottle. She clutched its top with two fingers and squeezed in that way kids couldn’t or wouldn’t think to, before twisting the lid off. She fished two smooth tablets out and popped them into her mouth. Only once she swallowed, did her eyes open. And they wouldn’t close until the work was done. Or death had her. Or Something worse got her first.

She saw the skyline of a city with those strange effigies people called skyscrapers and scattered clouds but no stars because cities couldn’t stand to share their skies with anything that might suggest grandness beyond themself and what they stood upon. The only other to share the sky, and only because it was much too close for any city’s smokescreen to hide, was the moon. The moon, waning crescent to signal that its days off were nearly here. Muddy never got days off anymore.

Not even sure what I’d do with them at this point.

Muddy slipped the bottle back into her pocket then sent her hands shifting through pebbles all around. Sleep laid atop her brow whispering sweet nothings to her eyelids. Sweet nothings telling them to fall again and rise no more. This siren song went ignored as Muddy’s left hand grazed the grainy case of a slender, wooden box. Eyes still on the moon, she placed her index finger atop the box and slid its lid into the gravel.

“Irgen undra eht, Spoceekt, ~”

Another lullaby filled the night, this one simple and sweet in its melody. It repeated the same two chords, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and—

Muddy reflexively bit her lip, her teeth tore into soft flesh and drew out a single drop of scarlet.

The spell broke. The sweet melody and its unintelligible lyrics continued, their cadence haunting and patient in the way that only an ambush predator could be.

Insane I must be, to use you as my weapon.

Finally, Muddy took her eyes off the moon and looked down into the box she opened. Inside laid a brass chain with an effigy of dark spruce hanging from it. The effigy depicted a faceless feminine figure with six arms. Each limb, only as long and thick as a twig, bore mouth upon mouth upon mouth with swarming teeth carved into every micrometer. It is from these mouths that the song emerged.

She-Who-Sung-First, you’re singing a new lullaby tonight or a different part of the same one.

Muddy finally stood, shaking slightly as Sleep massaged her hands and urged her to sit back down. She took the chain and wrapped it around her neck, laying the attached effigy atop her chest. And once her hands left the necklace, the lullaby grew all the louder. Still soft, still somber, but so much more apparent. As if sung directly into her brain. And as the song filled the young woman her clothing began to change.

Blue jeans, a plain black tee, and an assortment of sneakers composed Muddy’s standard fit, inconspicuous and simple. Something that let her walk around and only draw the typical attention a young, Black woman drew traveling by herself. All of that became blurry and unclear for a moment. Not in a striking way that drew alarm, but more like how something at the edge of your vision is just a blur until you focus on it. And focus she did.  

A sleeveless, net tunic wrapped her form, its many loops and gaps constructing a garden of lilies across her front and back all the way down to her knees. Two-tone saddle shoes, black with a white saddle, stole the comfort of sneakers and left her heels slightly elevated. Her most striking piece of wear existed as a headdress with thirteen feathers. Thick and black, thin and blue, curved like a question mark, or straight as a rapier, no two feathers matched in anything but length. Exactly a foot. All that remained of her original outfit for the night were some bandages wrapped around her hands and arms, a slight itch creeping up beneath them.

Muddy looked like she stepped right out of the Twenties.

More importantly, once she recognized her outfit, the lullaby faded and left her with only the sounds of those wretched few still awake in this sleeping city.  The generator still mad, the crickets still screaming, cars still silent, and shoes—

Even though they’d entered the building minutes ago, Muddy still heard the shoes. And where they once held a steady rhythm, now, they moved about in constant fluctuation. No rhyme, nor art to the movement, just the restless pursuit of distance and speed.

Until suddenly they just halted, and it was like the shoes never existed.

Muddy narrowed her eyes and released another lullaby from her lips. This one wasn’t as little as the one she used earlier, to get the museum to sing to her. Her new lullaby was more a promise, a threat meant to put those who sought to escape sleep to bed. And such a foolish endeavor was only ever taken by what lived and what died. And it was that foolishness this lullaby used to drag out the songs of the living.

Dual sets of strings fueled by lightning announced themselves to Muddy first, sending tingles through her bones with their every strum. Then, the repetition of percussion like rolling thunder with the occasional strike joined as all three worked together to set the stage. A stage impatiently taken.

“EHS MCEO ILEK TD. REHNU NI'SIR OFMR HTE UDRGNO!~”

The voice wasn’t screaming, it simply tried to be everywhere and wanted to be everything. Because no one could ignore it as Everything. Yet no single song could hope to be everything by itself, it required the help of others.

A band. Muddy’s frown deepened as she stopped her lullaby and returned to the quiet of the sleeping city. She recognized the voice. She Who Bleeds Endlessly made it first. Fuck! Shouldn’t have spent so long up here.

Muddy took a deep breath then unwrapped the bandages from around her left hand. A slit marked the back of it, one spot where the itch felt strongest. Muddy traced it with her index finger and the itch disappeared.

She opened the mouth on the back of her hand and saw an endless chasm of teeth, its entrance framed by thin lips.

Muddy grimaced at the sight and raised the back of her uncovered palm over her head. She took a deep breath with the mouth upon her face, then began humming another song with her back-hand mouth. This lullaby was the quietest and softest yet, more a whisper than music. Most would mistake it for a chill along their spine or that sensible voice at the back of their head. Either way, most would listen and know to stay away. 

The only ones who won’t, well, let’s hope they’re busy plotting elsewhere tonight.

Too much time passed for Muddy to stay on this roof any longer. Even as another yawn rolled out the bed of her face mouth and Sleep sapped her muscles of their strength, Muddy forced herself towards the roof’s edge. As she approached, she dragged her thumb along a slit upon the front of her left hand. She opened her palm mouth, an elongated tongue slipping through the lips to lick at the air. Tasting no music below, she reached the edge. Peeking over and seeing the three-story drop, she let her mind focus on her last dream. And as she focused on it, her palm mouth began to sing. A lullaby filled with warmth and joy filled the air, a lullaby begging Muddy to fall asleep. But she wasn’t allowed to sleep to the lullabies she sung.

I’d only wake up again at the end of Everything.

[tunashei]

First Impression of Animorphs!

I'm listening to the Animorphs series while I work, through Animorphs Aloud - a fan made reading of the series. Here are my first impressions/random thoughts about them! Spoilers below if you haven't read them.

Book 8: The Alien

OOOOOOH AX POV! Ax Pov! This is not a drill! I am so hype

Oh the mental imagery of Ax watching the space battle above him while sitting alone in this artificial dome is so...so emotional. The strange disconnect of watching helplessly in a veritable garden of eden as your brother and others fight above you in the cold vacuum of space. I'd like to draw it

And then the absolute terror of being ejected from your ship and falling into the ocean of the nearby planet. Stuck beneath miles of water pressing down on you. Chills

Also now I'm really curious what the surface of the sea looks like if you're looking up at from below many miles

Ooooh we got little diary entries! Very amusing! This book is starting off so strong

Loving the amount of planning for taking Ax to a movie, they've learnt from previous times!

One of the reasons I was so excited for Ax pov is stuff like learning all these Andalite words, and bits of biology, the different ways of observing things. Alien perspective is so interesting

Confession time, I listened to this book before Megamorphs 1 which is before this book in the timeline. So I had no idea was a Veleek was and was rather confused they'd beaten one

I love the regular forays into Ax's Adventures with Food. Please don't eat cigarettes baby

I was cracking up at work for this whole sequence. Got some funny looks.

Going to make a prediction. Seerow's Kindness is referring to Andalites helping out the Yeerks somehow. Also Seerow is Visser Three's Andalite Host.

My man eat with he feet

I'm so here for Ax and Tobias best buds friendship

Ax confirmed canonically hetero this is a sad day for us all :(

Ok why after the semi-disaster of the movies would you take Ax to school, that is one of the most stressful confusing environments for anyone. Also schools have registers they're not going to just let you bring in a new kid

Unless maybe the teacher won't care because they've got a bloody Yeerk dying in their head! The book has predicted this predicament!

However, very unrealistic that the kids fled the room instead of crowding around the freaking-out teacher. You'd spend 20 minutes chasing them out the room and they'd still crowd around the door peeping in.

Oh this is...a bad thing to have hidden Ax. Poor Jake. This whole conversation is very tense. Ax bringing up his brother as if to remind Jake he's already lost HIS brother to this war

Ax is always described as blue-and-tan, implying he's more blue than tan. I have a hard time believing people would think he's a deer from a distance considering his colours

Huh...wouldn't it be weird to never have moonless nights? The stars are always brightest on those days, great for stargazing. I wonder how bright the night would be if you had multiple moons. Or would it not be additive?

Fascinating evolutionary implications from a species having a biological clock that makes them war every 62 years. Some kind of mass population cull? Ensuring only the strongest breed?

Ok this is pretty funny but actually made me reconsider how we appreciate stuff?? Actually kind of mindblowing. We really don't appreciate food as an art form. After I'd listened to this bit at work, my boss gave us all a tin of chocolates. Ate them on the way home and took some time to really savour the flavour. My life is being enriched by these books.

'He was a male-as all human fathers are' Implication Andalites can have female fathers??? Maybe. Would be cool.

Ax totally winning at social interaction

Aw Ax, you are being very brave :(

Huh so this Yeerk controller loved another Yeerk? I could have sworn in a previous book it said they were incapable of love, I think the one where Jake gets infested

Poor Ax. You really feel his struggle in being compared to his brother, now having to take the blame

The yeerk just fuckin bailed out the andalite?! I was not expecting this. You beat Visser Three?!

Aight so the Visser's andalite was not Seerow. He's just...some guy. Ngl was hoping for a bit more info on that, I've been very curious how Visser Three got an andalite which no other Yeerk has acomplished

Although...they're on the home world? Maybe there are other andalite controllers. Ruh roh

You guys are absolutely going to regret not putting this andalite out of his misery. He's literally begging for death and you know the horrors of being infested, and will be an incredibly powerful enemy again if you leave him. I mean, you couldn't even try to lug him out of there? How many people are going to end up killed in the future because Visser Three remains an andalite?

Called it on Seerow's Gift being helping the Yeerks. I kind of get it though I'd feel sorry for any sapient species that had to life it's entire life as a slug in a pool

Winced when Ax confessed his fears of giving humans help that would lead them to be conquerors, and Marco brushing it off. Humans would absolutely become conquerors, it's in our history

Wow. This is definitely my favourite book so far. I expected it would be, I'm very into xenofiction (when a book is written from a non-human perspective) but I think the emotional journey was also great in this. The ending was a bit quick and weak. But overall great.