#squads who have been to hell and back and would die for each other!

[wantonlywindswept]

so i won’t write it because...well, because why would i write about jedi when clone troopers and mandalorians are right there

but i often see quinlan vos (shoutout to QV, who i only know through fic but you seem like a delightful character) assigned to the Guard in a ‘the guard FINALLY gets their own jedi’ story, and those (or with other jedi) stories are Extremely Rad but i don’t think i’ve seen one yet

where anakin is the one assigned to the Guard?

like it makes so much sense, palpatine would be able to keep his future apprentice close in his creepy way, and nobody can bitch about the Guard not having jedi oversight (including the Guard themselves) bc look, there is one! nevermind that he’s off with his super-secret wife most of the time or anything

and that could go a couple interesting ways, including veering straight into the deep end of despair and the guard knowing there’s no way out and no one to save them

or maybe anakin notices and tries to stop it because he knows what slavery looks like

or maybe the guard notice how creepy palpatine is toward anakin and try to stop that

maybe obi-wan comes to visit his padawan in the guard offices and goes ‘wow the vibes in here are RANCID’ and does shit about that

idk i just think it’s an interesting dynamic that could be explored, particularly in the aspect of anakin and fox both having palpatine’s attention but for very different reasons and for very different purposes with very, very different consequences.

...someone else should explore that, ftr. i’ma be over here playing with space marines

[firewasabeast]

I expanded on this little thing I wrote the other day. It's literally just 1,000 words of Tommy and Rocker arguing with each other. Enjoy!

“We got a code four on the suspect!” Hondo called into his radio. “Sergeant Rocker sustained a gunshot wound to the leg; it's bleeding pretty good.”

“LAFD is two minutes out with the chopper,” Hicks replied from the ground. “The fire on the second floor has been contained. You guys should be able to make it down the stairwell without issue, but I want Rocker up in that bird.”

“Yes, Sir.” He walked closer to Rocker, who had the rest of 20-Squad hovering around him, Deacon helping him keep pressure on his wound. “LAFD's gonna take you to the hospital,” he explained. “The rest of us will go down the stairs once you've been taken up.”

Rocker grimaced as pain radiated through his leg. “Who's flying it?” he asked.

Hondo glanced from Rocker, to Deacon, back to Rocker. “Who's flying what? The helicopter?”

“No, the USS Enterprise!” He exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, the helicopter!”

“I don't know, Man.”

“Why does that matter right now?” Deacon questioned, lifting his hand ever so slightly to see if the bleeding slowed any.

“Just ask, please,” he groaned.

Hondo sighed, then got back on the radio. “Hey, is there a way you can find out who is flying the chopper?”

There was a pause, then Hicks replied, “Is there any particular reason?”

“Apparently. Just not sure what.”

Another pause, then, “Hang on.”

It only took a few seconds for Hicks' voice to come over the radio again, Rocker listening carefully. “Firefighter pilot Aaron Ferris.”

Rocker closed his eyes, sighing in relief. “Okay. Okay, that's good.”

“Why are you so worried about it, Rocker?” Hondo asked.

“Busy trying not to bleed to death right now, Hondo,” he bit back. “This is the last time I offer my services to 20-Squad by the way.”

“You're not bleeding that bad anymore,” Tan noted.

Rocker glared up at him. “You're still up here because?”

The sound of the chopper broke them all out of their soon-to-be argument. It hovered above the building and, a few moments later, someone began to descend from the helicopter.

Rocker eyed the person closely, especially once he reached the roof and unhooked himself and the spine board from the clips.

“Oh hell no,” he breathed out, grumpily shooing away Deacon's hand so he could press down on the wound himself.

Deacon was about to ask Rocker what the hell was wrong with him when the firefighter walking toward them took off his helmet. “What the-”

“Always knew I'd be saving your ass eventually, Donny,” The doppelgänger said as he knelt beside Rocker.

“You got something to share with the class?” Hondo asked Rocker pointedly.

“This is my twin, Tommy,” Rocker hurriedly explained. “You know what? Just leave me here,” he whined. “Let me die.”

Tommy batted Rocker's hand away from the wound, tearing his pants to get a better look. “Unfortunately, it's not that bad,” he said, noting the way it was barely bleeding now. “Dad would also kill me if I let you die. He likes you, remember?”

“Oh don't even start with that! I haven't spoken to him in like a month.”

“Ha!” Tommy laughed. “Try three years, jackass. Now shut up and let me work.” He began to wrap the leg, just enough to keep the pressure on it while they transported him.

As he wrapped, a pain shot up Rocker's leg, causing him to moan. He reached out and smacked Tommy's shoulder. “Can't you be more gentle?! I literally just got shot!”

“You're such a baby.”

“You, quite frankly, have no idea what this feels like.”

Tommy stopped then, cocking his head to the side as he stared at his brother. “I don't? Really? I don't know what it's like to be shot?”

Rocker rolled his eyes dramatically. “You were overseas then,” he said. “And that was an explosion. It's different.”

“It's worse!”

“Says you.”

“Says everyone!”

Rocker motioned up at Deacon. “Deac, shooting or explosion, which is worse?”

Deacon looked back and forth between the two of them, a thousand questions running through his mind. Mostly for Tommy. “Explosion, Rocker. It's always explosion.”

Tommy grinned. “Haha.”

Rocker glared at Deacon. “You're a traitor, and this is the worst day ever.”

“What about-”

“Do not!” Rocker warned Tommy. “Never, ever mention that.”

“Mhm. Okay, come on. Get on the spine board so we can get out of here.”

“I- What do you mean, “get on the spine board”? You're supposed to put me on the spine board!”

Tommy sat back on his calves. “Are you really too weak to scoot your butt over six inches onto the board?”

“Would you really be asking this of anyone else in my current state, Thomas?”

“Anyone else in your current state would have already walked down the stairs and exited the building like a normal human, Donovan. Now, scoot!”

As soon as Rocker moved onto the spine board, moaning and groaning the whole way, he laid down and Tommy began to restrain him.

“We'll be going to Cedars-Sinai,” Tommy informed the rest of the group. “Maybe next time I see you guys Donny will actually introduce me to his co-workers.”

“Shooting victim!” Rocker reminded him. “Plus, it's not like you ever introduced me to your coworkers. Or your boyfriend! Or should I say ex-boy- Ow!”

Tommy pulled the final restraint, right over his groin, tugging extra hard, then clipped him to the rope so they could head up to the chopper. “If you don't shut up," he warned, "I'll release the clip halfway up and watch you spin around like a propeller until you hit the ground.”

Then, with a thumbs up, Tommy and Rocker began their ascent.

The rest of the team stood in silence for a moment, trying to take everything in.

“What the hell just happened here?” Hondo asked.

“Not a clue,” Deacon answered. “Permission to head to the hospital and see how this plays out?”

Hondo nodded. “Only if you give us the play by play.”

[goodlucktai]

9, raph and leo?

dialogue prompts

9. “I know, I know it hurts.”

x

When Raph was eight years old, the twins decided they needed their own bedrooms and, like with all other things they had ever decided, they made it everyone else’s problem. As a united front, the two of them had the capacity to wear down a squad of Navy Seals in a manner of days, let alone one overtired single father. 

The campaign for separate bedrooms turned out to be a long con. Donnie had been denied an evil science laboratory by Splinter multiple times, on the grounds of it being dangerous, and Donnie being seven, and evil being bad. But a room of his own could be whatever he wanted, and he wanted a lab. 

It took most of a week for Splinter to discover that the twins were still doubled up in the room that was ostensibly Leo’s while Donnie’s was being used for nefarious purposes, but by then Donnie had installed an electronic lock on the door that he built out of components gutted from old kitchen appliances and was fully ready to die on that hill. 

While Pops and Donnie were locked in a contest of wills that would ultimately go in Donnie’s favor (because Splinter’s achilles heel back then—and even now—was that he thought little turtles at their most sulky and unreasonable were just adorable) Raphie had looked at Leo with a confused frown on his face. 

“How come you went along with it, Lee? You didn’t even get your own room.”

Leo shrugged, bright gold eyes shining with interest as he watched his twin and his father argue back and forth. He was following it carefully, probably ready to join in if it looked like Donnie was going to lose—more engaged than he ever was playing video games or flipping through comics. 

At the time, all Leo said was, “Just wanted to see if I could.”

Raph thought it was because he was a troublemaker, and he maintained that idea up until Mikey—intuitive beyond his years, even as a sweet little six year old—said he figured it was just that Leo’s head went as crazy fast as Donnie’s did, only in ways that didn’t involve breaking and building things. 

A full decade later, Raph knows Mikey was right on the money. Looking back, he sees a kid who was wickedly smart and terribly understimulated. Leo didn’t create trouble for the heck of it, he just liked having problems to solve. He wanted conversations and tricks and puzzles, he needed hoops to jump through like dolphins did on TV, or else he’d get cranky and sneaky. 

Their world became a much simpler, more peaceful place once Leo got his first phone and discovered an online chess app with a leaderboard. 

All this to say, Leo has had a mind for strategy since before he could talk in full sentences. He’s a natural-born leader, and after the failed Krang invasion, he really stepped up and took it seriously. Raph is so proud of him he doesn’t have words big enough to contain the size and shape of it all. It isn’t as hard as he had imagined it would be to let go of the reins and give Leo the room he needs to shine. 

Some days are better than others. For the most part, Leo says jump and his brothers don’t even ask how high, they just shoot for the rafters. Their teamwork is cohesive, as solid as it was when they initially realized their ninpo, and Raph thinks he’d feel sorry for the Shredder if that guy showed his face in their town again. 

But there are also days like today, when Leo says something that Raph’s big brother meter pings as Leo being silly, stirring shit up for lack of better thing to do, and he doesn’t linger on it past that initial knee-jerk impression. 

They’re working with a group of mutants out of Hell’s Kitchen, mutants who are walking the line between vigilantism and outright crime. They’re rough around the edges, but good-natured for the most part. The turtles kept bumping into that other group as they crisscrossed around the city until finally their leader, Old Hob, said, “Why don’t we just get on the same program instead of stepping on each other’s heels?” and a tentative partnership was formed. 

It’s been a week since then, and in that time Raph and his brothers have been firmly adopted by the grown-up mutants, who ask pointed questions about what time they went to bed the night before and whether or not they had a decent breakfast and how their online classes are going. 

“This must be what having overbearing aunties is like,” Donnie said to April on the phone none-too-quietly, and Sally, feline mutant and aforementioned overbearing auntie, knocked her knuckles on his battleshell reprovingly. But that about summed it up. 

There was one spanner in the works, and that was Liam.  

——

“Anyone else getting bad vibes from that guy by the way?” Leo says one day. 

There’s something performative about it, his usual pomp and charisma with a plastic edge. Mikey tilts his head like a service dog who just caught the scent of a potential medical emergency. Donnie looks up from his phone, eyes keen the way they only are when he and his twin are about to communicate with the telepathy they’ll deny they have.

But Raph is having a bad pain day, and his well of patience for shenanigans is much shallower than it normally is. 

“Leon, don’t start,” he says, rubbing the slider’s head playfully to take any sting out of the dismissal. “If I have to put up with any middle child nonsense today I’m gonna scream.”

There’s a beat, his second-youngest brother visibly hesitating on a mental fork in the road. He’s gotten so good about being forthcoming but his first impulse is still to play along, deny, conceal-don’t-feel. He still has this idea in his head of what a good leader is supposed to be, and he’s still willing to whittle parts of himself away that don’t fit that mold. 

To his credit, Leo tries again. “I don’t like him,” he says with less certainty. 

“You don’t have to be best friends with the guy,” Raph replies. There’s enough warning in his tone that Leo knows to drop it. “Just get along until we go home.”

He works his shoulder, trying to do something about the solid ache it’s become, and Leo’s eyes drop to the mass of scarring there and then flit away. He starts to outline the route their patrol is going to take, reaching into his belt bag for the jar of Tiger Balm he’s taken to carrying with him and handing it over to Raph as he talks. 

Raph smiles, the warmth in his chest ballooning up to swallow the impending impatience and annoyance brought out by pain. That warmth stays with him through their whole run, even as Donnie video-calls April and deadpans “POV you’re tailing some guy who didn’t get the memo that armed robbery is cringe as hell,” even as Mikey goes out of his way to jump and tumble off a fire escape in time to give Mondo a high-five as he skates by in the opposite direction, even as Leo progressively gets quieter the closer they get to their two AM check-in at the Mutanimals’ railyard base.

Looking back, Raph can count all the red flags he missed and hates himself a little more for each one. Leo sometimes causes problems for fun, and he likes to see what trouble he can get away with or get himself out of, and he is a downright menace to society when he’s bored—but he’s good. He’s sweet, and charming, and wants to help. He wouldn’t have raised an issue with the other group of mutants, potentially cutting ties with useful allies, unless he had a decent reason to. 

And that reason, Raph discovers that night—after information has been exchanged and all that's left is to hang out at the base watching TV and playing table tennis until Splinter inevitably texts to remind his sons of their curfew—is Liam. 

He doubles back into the meeting room where he left his phone and sees the goose mutant has put himself between Leo and the only exit, head lowered on a serpentine neck, beak open to show a flash of sharp teeth in a display that Raph’s animal hindbrain reads clearly as threat. 

His grip on the doorframe causes it to crack. 

“Leo,” he says in a voice he doesn’t recognize. 

His little brother’s head jerks up, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving. Later, Raph will hate himself for putting even a sliver of doubt in Leo’s mind, for unknowingly invalidating his feelings. Leo should never be surprised that his big brother showed up for him. He should never have been left to fend for himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, especially after he found the courage to be upfront about it. 

“C’mere,” Raph says, lifting an arm—a little turtle’s cue to tuck themselves safely against Raph’s side. 

Whatever his expression is doing, it’s caused dead silence to blanket the room like a foot of packed snow. Liam looks markedly unhappy to see Raphael standing there, but Leo runs to meet him. 

A strategist, a faceman, a leader, and barely seventeen years old. 

“We were just talking,” Liam says with a lightness that rings as false. 

“Next time I find out you and my brother were just talking, I’ll wring your skinny neck,” Raph replies, matching his tone. Liam may be twice Raph’s age, but he’s half Raph’s size, and Raph has gone head-to-head with the Krang general and the Shredder and walked it off each time. Raph is fully prepared, in this moment, to murder this fucking goose. 

Leo taps on Raph’s carapace, just as one of his violent inner voices is lifting its head in the back of his brain and considering making an appearance. On Leo’s end, a warning that someone else is coming from down the hall. On Raph’s end, a reminder that his first priority is the one he’s holding. 

He turns, keeping Leo beside him, in time to see Hob appear around the corner. The cat mutant stops dead in his tracks, slitted eyes moving from Raph, down to Leo, to the doorway beside them, and back again.  

“Problem?”

“We’re going home,” Raph says, a rumble in his voice he wouldn’t know how to temper even if he wanted to. “And we’re not coming back. Don’t call us unless someone’s dying or there’s another alien invasion.”

“Knock on wood,” Leo mumbles near-silently. 

Old Hob doesn’t answer right away. It’s impossible to tell what the older mutant is thinking on a good day, outwardly recalcitrant and unfriendly, even though he has never snapped at Mikey’s cheerful rambling or Leo’s wheedling attempts to goad him into yet another chess match or even Donnie’s accidental ninpo-related shortage of every appliance in the Mutanimals’ kitchen. He and Sally and Ray and Herman all go out of their way to make their base comfortable and accessible to the turtles and Mondo and Pete, like it really matters to them that the younger mutants have a safe place tucked away that they can fall back on. 

And Raph had appreciated that, up until now. Up until they proved it wasn’t safe, actually. Up until he’d seen a grown man leering meanly at his baby brother, just because he thought he could keep getting away with it.

When Hob does speak, all he says is, “Get home safe, boys.”

Raph shoulders around him, and collects Donnie and Mikey from the main room immediately. Mikey says, “Woah, are you guys okay?” and Donnie shoots a poisonous look behind them, like if he glares hard enough he can see back in time to what happened to put those expressions on Leo and Raph’s faces. 

“We’re peachy, Miguelito,” Leo says, disquietingly convincing. “Just had a difference of opinion with our hosts is all.” 

“Stay out of Hell’s Kitchen from now on until I say so,” Raph adds sternly. 

Raph tells dad about Liam when they get home, because there is no universe where that doesn’t happen, and Leo immediately gets hauled into Splinter’s room for what sounds like a very serious conversation. Raph, Donnie and Mikey cluster shamelessly outside the door to eavesdrop, and some frightened thing in Raph’s heart lets out the breath it’s been holding when Leo says, “Nothing happened, papa, I promise. He was just weird.”

“Let him be weird to my Baby Blue one more time and I will show him exactly why your father was the undisputed Battle Nexus champion,” Splinter says. He cups Leo’s face and rubs his thumb over a striped cheek, as if he’d like to keep his son right there where no one had the capacity to hurt him. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so proud of you. I will actually kill him if he looks at you again.”

Leonardo smiles brightly, daddy’s boy of the family and glutton for attention that he is, those leftover dregs of anxiety in his eyes finally melting away. 

“I think we should let dad kill him,” Donnie announces, eyes icy, tone flat. 

“Nah,” Mikey says, disingenuously cheerful. “Next time we run into Liam I’m setting him the fuck on fire!” 

“Language,” Raph scolds by rote, but his heart isn’t in it. 

He can’t get that scene he walked in on back at the railyard out of his head. He can’t help thinking what if something worse had happened because I didn’t listen? 

It feels like there’s a ghost in his chest, rattling his heart. He’s haunted by the what if. 

——

After dinner, Leo looks at Raph meaningfully and points at the infirmary. Doctor Leo’s orders supersede all others, 100% of the time, so Raphael sighs and surrenders his controller to Mikey’s grabby hands without bothering to make the token argument. He keeps driving Princess Peach off the track anyway. 

“Have you been stretching?” Leo says, feeling along Raph’s upper arm, where the muscles are visibly knotted. Even his careful touch hurts—that whole side of his body is tender with pain. Raph can’t help but flinch when his shoulder spasms and Leo hisses. “Shit, sorry, I know, I know it hurts. God, Raphie, you gotta say something before it gets this bad. I’m not afraid to bench you, big guy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says, amused by his little brother’s no-nonsense tone, warmed by the care Leo always takes with his family when they’re sitting in his infirmary and putting their hurts in his hands. 

There’s nothing performative about him here. It’s just Leo, stripped of every false layer. 

“Let’s try to massage it out,” Leo says, all his attention bent to the task. “Then we’ll apply heat.” 

Raph hums, watching him work. His arm radiates pain, and he has to grit his teeth as Leo goes to work on the knots and the ache flares close to unbearable and wanes to a dull throb and then flares again. 

“Hey,” Raph says before he can overthink it any more. “What would you have done if I didn’t see you and Liam?”

Leo pauses, but only for a split-second. He’s as good as cornered here, because there’s no way he’ll leave Raph when he’s in pain, and there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully for Raph’s sanity, he doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, even if he takes a long moment to finally answer. 

“Would’ve made Angie make me a Portal Promise to never be alone with him,” Leo admits. Flushing slightly, he mumbles, “It’s, uh, a thing we do—we both make portals, you know, so—it just means we have to keep that promise no matter what happens or what rules we have to break, and we won’t get in trouble later as long as we’re honest.” 

Raph’s heart hurts. His little brothers are so sweet, and people exist in the world who would hurt them, and he has no idea how to reconcile that. He hates that both things could be true at the same time. 

“Tello doesn’t need to be encouraged to stay away from people, and I’m pretty sure he can read my mind? But I would’ve told him anyway,” Leo goes on. “I tell him everything. I’d try to word it so he didn’t get angry enough to do something drastic, like, cut the brake lines on Liam’s Toyota Corolla. And I’d have to make it sound like you and I were on the same page, otherwise he’d go to you about it, and you’d—uh, be annoyed that I didn’t drop it, I guess.”

Getting impaled by the Krang hurt less than this, Raph thinks. He feels sick. 

“Leo—”

“I know,” Leo says quickly, a little too loud. “I know that I don’t always take stuff seriously. It’s not your fault for thinking—you know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Raphie. I just gotta grow up.”

This kid, who—like the rest of them—has already matured well past his age, well before he should have had to. Who’s terrified of letting his family down, who has so much he thinks he needs to live up to. Any perceived failure weighs on him like the death penalty, and Raph knows he had a hand in that. 

He needs to listen. Even when he’s aching and short-tempered. Even when Leo is talking around something that scares him. Maybe especially then. 

“Can we make a deal?” Raph says, reaching up to hold Leo’s hands still under one of his own. Leo is staring hard at Raph’s plastron and doesn’t seem willing to lift his eyes for love or money, but he jerks his head in a nod. “Next time I’m not hearing you, and it’s something serious like today was serious, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Leo’s mouth twists a bit. If it were for anyone else’s sake, he’d get in Raph’s face and make himself heard no problemo, but it’s an entirely different story when it’s his own safety in question. That part of Leo that wants to always rely on his brothers is constantly at war with the part that believes he’s not supposed to need anyone’s help anymore. 

It would be impossible for him to plant himself like a tree and refuse to be budged and demand Raph’s attention if he thought for one second that it would make Raph angry at him. 

“What if we came up with a code word?” Raph offers, squeezing Leo’s hands. “If I’m being a stubborn punk, you can tell me the code word, and I’ll listen, and I won’t get mad. Even if it turns out to be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Okay?”

He finally gets a peek of gold as Leo dares to make eye contact. He looks embarrassed, like they’ve made a huge deal out of this for no good reason, and hiding inside his shell until everyone promises to pretend like nothing happened is looking more tempting by the second. 

But he’s Leo, their fearless leader. He stared down that portal into the prison dimension without flinching. If he can do that, he can do anything. 

“What word?” he finally says. 

“You pick,” Raph tells him. 

A smile creeps onto Leo’s face, picking its way carefully across shaky ground. 

“‘Goose’,” he suggests.

"‘Goose’ it is," Raph replies firmly, committing it to memory.

He lifts his good arm and drags his little brother into a solid hug, ignoring the twinge in his back and side. Leonardo scrambles to return the embrace, shoving his face against Raph’s unscarred shoulder and clinging for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. He’s worth so much. 

Later, when Raph’s got the electric heating pad on his arm and he and Leo are watching TikTok compilations to pass the time, Mikey comes through the infirmary door at top speed, waving his phone above his head like a maniac. 

“Look what Mondo sent me!” he shouts at full volume. “I put it in the group chat!”

The video shared in the Mad Dogz chat shows Liam being kicked out of the railyard, his bags tossed into the road. Sally is going off at him at the top of her lungs, and Hob is standing by with his arms folded like he’s fully ready to let her maul the guy, and the rest of the grown-up mutants are making it pretty clear with their body language that the goose isn’t welcome anymore. 

“Dunno what they saw on the security cam, but they effin’ hated it,” Mondo says in the recording, unbothered by the absolute chaos unfolding in front of him. “Good riddance, Liam sucks. Oh, Mikester, Hob wants to know if you guys’ll be back in the Kitchen for Herman’s D&D oneshot on Saturday so he knows how much food to order. He said you should bring your dad around this time—as if we need another boring old man in the group, ugh. Anyway, let me know and I’ll pass it along, dude!”

A weight Raph hadn’t even realized he was still carrying melts off his shoulders. Leo huffs under his breath, a disbelieving little laugh. 

“Can we go, Raphie?” Mikey asks with wide eyes. “Don worked so hard on all our character sheets. He even 3D-printed custom figurines.”

“My bard is going to carry this team,” Donnie says loudly from the next room, because he’s never met a private conversation he wouldn’t shamelessly listen in on. 

It’s so important to the Mutanimals that their young friends feel safe with them, and here’s proof of that in Mikey’s hands. Raph doesn’t fully understand why they care, but he’s grateful that they do. It didn’t hit him until now how much it hurt to have the railyard taken away—and how relieved he is that they can go back, after all. 

He squeezes the arm he still has around Leo’s shoulders, prompting his brother to look up at him. 

“What do you say, Fearless?” he says warmly. “Your call.”

Raph’s listening this time. 

[alicentsgf]

football nerd, do you have any other ideas/opinions on what positions the other girls might have played on the team? iirc we only get confirmed jersey numbers or positions for the main crew

I may have thoughts... extensive ones.

I mean we do know Mari's a 10. Though she's not really treated as a starting player, aka not visibly on the field or in the starting line up at the pep rally, she does have the number of a starting attacking midfielder. Imo she probably is in reality the starting 10, but the writers were aware she wasnt going to be a central character/fufill that role in the narrative, so they made it ambiguous. They didn't want to confuse people by including her in all of the soccer scenes and then excluding her from other scenes with the "core team".

Akilah we know is a forward, a left-sided winger primarily, because she came in for Allie.

Gen has the number 16. A lot of times players wear what would be their preferred positions number +10, meaning Gen can likely play as a 6, aka maybe was a reserve for Shauna and perhaps Tai too. Though Rachel (the girl who died in the crash) had the number 18 so we can infer she was also a midfielder and maybe a reserve for them as well.

Worth taking into account lot of these girls probably played multiple positions. In fact, if we're being ultra logical with it, the JV players who made it into the senior squad were likely just the more versatile ones, rather than than necessarily the ones who were best in their positions.

Now we've just got the unnumbered players left and we still have two gaps in the left side of defense. Like who was Lottie's CB partner? Who played Left Back? If we only look at the unnumbered players, we have just 4 options in Melissa, Crystal, Robin and Britt. (Honestly think they maybe should have had more people die in the crash or from exposure or something because this team is threadbare as hell. I think the JV girls are just meant to be subs ? but in that case the yellowjackets were fielding a team of 9 instead of 11. Like they won states with 4 reserves?? wtf. why is their bench so empty??)

Honestly I like the headcanon Gen was Lottie's CB partner, she could just be able to play in the defensive midfield as well (not unusual for a CB) and thats why she wears a #16. and then Melissa would be her Left Back. she gives me speedy but gritty vibes and no one else is wearing the #3 so why not ! It would explain their familiarity with each other, a mirror to Laura Lee and Lottie on the right side. It would also put her positionally just behind Shauna, which I just think is funny ngl. (Shauna looking ahead to Jackie and Melissas right behind her the whole time lmao.) Perhaps Gen and Melissa were newer additions to the team, hence their exclusion from the "core" team (Its actually clearly for plot purposes, but this could be the in-universe explanation).

Don't have much to go off for the last 3, though I assume the idea was not to have to make many subs at all and just finish the game with the starting players as far as possible, so I doubt the bench players actually got on the field much. I would say I feel Crystal was likely a reserve for the forwards, just a vibe. Good technically and probably could play well enough all across the front line and the #10, hence her inclusion.

I think they must have at least 1 reserve goalkeeper and I'm going to go with Britt for that. Not to stereotype but as a former goalkeeper I think I'm allowed to say we tend to be a bit stockier and Robin looks like she would snap in half if a striker shouldered her, so yes, Britt as Van's reserve. She likely wouldn't have been expected to actually play a game though, goalies don't get subbed unless they're injured or sick really. So that leaves weepy little Robin, and we're a bit light on the defensive options so lets go with that, though I'm not gonna lie the idea of that girl putting in a hard tackle seems unlikely. Maybe she's just very intuitive and reads the game well enough to not have to go to ground very often ? Who knows. Finding good defenders amongst teenagers is hard anyway tbh, esp CBs, its a position you often have to grow into.

Honestly tho if I was Coach Martinez I would have been wrapping my starting players in bubble wrap between games. The bench for this team is dismal lmao. But yeah, thats my thoughts. To summarise, the starting line up would then look like this:

then you have Crystal (Kristen) as a reserve forward option (able to play 11, 9, 7, 10) Rachel as a reserve for the defensive midfield (6, 8), Robin as a defensive reserve (5 & 16 especially), and Britt as the backup goalie. Mad lack of sub options but could technically be done.

[beescrafting]

You aren't my Lieutenant.

Angstful writing idea that I have for Ghost and Roach that ties into what I'm writing and to put Roach in the reboot series just cause I love him SO DAMN MUCH.

___

Ghost remembered his rookie days alongside Roach. They joined together around the same time. They hated each other's guts at first but soon became something like brothers, a nice relationship.

Then when he got captured by Roba and Ghost was truly made, Gary was by his side. Gary always was by his side when he lost everything. Except when he lost him. It was a mission... of course, it was a damn mission it wouldn't have been anything else. Gary was close to getting on the exfil before being shot.

Ghost mourned his friend, hell he looked at the damn build-a-bear Gary had gotten him one time to poke fun at him... he held it close before squeezing the palm of it. 'Simon don't be such a sad sap' the voice of Gray...

now Gary was gone...

Years passed and Ghost still felt the guilt, he was apart of the 141 now with Captain Price, Sergeants Kyle 'Gaz' and Johnny 'Soap'... it was getting back to some sense of normalcy if you could call it that.

And then they get a strange power burst while on base, and the alarms of an inturder ring through the building.

Ghost is the first to find him, it's Gary... it's Roach...

Roach doesn't recognize him, pointing a gun at him and looking around confused.

"Who the hell are you?" Roach muttered.

Ghost had never been so happy to have a gun pointed at him. For his friend was back... or some sort of version.

~~~

It was just a mission for Gary alongside his Lieutenant and Captain, invade a building, take down the machine and gather intel. Simple and plain.

So explain to him why he was trapped in the room with the damn machine turned on as his captain and Lieutenant tried to get him out, it was too late they all knew it... but it still hurt to know he was going to die like this.

"Hey Lt, Cap' think i won't be able to get drinks this time" He joked as the bright green light consumed him.

Roach expected pain, a firey sensation... But no... he was in some random dark room... it confused him. As he moved the lights suddenly turned on which freaked him out as he looked for hostiles... their was nothing... then how did the lights turn on?...

Roach quickly moved to radio to his squad, to his captain, to his lieutenant... nothing but static came through...

"Shit... shit" Roach mumbled unsure on what was happening... That when someone strange entered the room, and quickly shouted at him to stop. And what does roach do? What any good cock roach would...

Run.

He rushed past that random guy, a guy with a nice plain t-shirt and a baseball cap with the British flag. It didn't make sense for him to be back in England when the mission took place in fucking france!

He ran, and ran, the lights and alarms started. This place, this base, this compound or lab knew he was here now, he needed to find a way out and to get back to his team.

This place was large and confusing it was nothing like the building he was once in... He turned a corner only to find a door, it was better than anything so he rushed in and closed the door behind him. He heard the steps of men passing by yelling orders trying to find him.

Roach stepped back from the door for a few minutes, playing rock, paper, scissors with himself to calm down and focus. Once he was calm enough, he began to process what had happened. What was he going to do? He didn't know where he was, what had happened, or what he could do... It was just almost too much.

Roach leaned against the wall to this... what the hell was this? He glanced around, it looked to be a debriefing room... alright... he could work with this... just maybe.

He went through looking around for anything he could use, information mostly, it was all stuff about missions and Makarov... of fucking course Makarov...

He scoffed for a moment before hearing the door to the room open. He froze still for a signal moment before turning around raising his gun. Only to be met by one scary god damn mother fucker.

This wall of a person surrounded in black with a skull mask, Gary didn't want to know if it was fake or not, stared at him still just like him. It took all his willpower just to mutter, "Who the hell are you?"

___

im not feral for roach content... yes I am feral for roach content I just love him so much.

[neppednep]

Hey! If you're busy feel free to ignore this, but could I please get some romantic headcanons for Red Hood? No hard feelings if you don't want to, since she's not on the masterlist or anything, or if you just don't want to do it. But if you do end up doing it then thanks a lot for taking the time out of your life, as well as keeping this blog running.

I wish you a good day, as well as luck in any future endeavors!

Red Hood Romantic HCs

I wanted to make a part for Dorothy too, but I've been busy as hell, so that'll probably come after I get through a couple other asks.

Also, if a charcter isn't in the Nikke masterlist, feel free to still request. I have to remake it one of these days because of the photo limit. Anyways, sorry for being late and hope you enjoy.

》 Being in a relationship with Red Hood can be a mixed bag. On one hand, you two really do love each other, even through the whole alien invasion, pretty much the end of humanity thing. On the other hand, you two don't get as much time together as you used to and even that is an understatement. Between her new duties as a Nikke and worrying whether or not she'll make it back home after her missions, it can get stressful.

》 You would be lying if you said it was easy when she first became a Nikke though. The two of you weren't exactly well off, living in a relatively small village away from most of the fighting. You didn't really think much of it, not realizing just how bad it was until raptures practically appeared out of nowhere, killing everyone in sight. While you were evacuated… you couldn't find her. The only proof of her existence being the cassette player she gifted a friend of yours.

Your breath freezes in your throat as you stare at the red haired woman, proudly walking down the street with a gun damn near twice her size tossed over her shoulder. You don't even know what to feel.

》 Imagine your surprise, spending months thinking she was dead until you saw her and a few others, still alive, receiving a hero's welcome at the city you were staying at.

Relief?

Confusion?

Happiness?

You couldn't even move, practically stuck in place as you stare at the spitting image of your supposedly dead girlfriend.

She scans the crowd, her eyes eventually land on you, having to double take before stopping dead in her tracks. You have no time to react before you see a huge smile on her face. Her weapon falls to the ground with a loud crash and the next thing you know your feet leave the ground as you're taken into a bone crushing huh.

No words really needed to be spoken between the two of you, everyone else in the crowd forgotten. You just bury your head into her large chest, letting reality sink in.

She's still alive and back with you, so you won't complain.

》 It really doesn't seem like much has even changed, besides that hug she goes right back to how everything was before. Immediately dragging you off with strength you didn't think possible. She wasn't a small woman by any means but it just wasn't human. After she introduced you to her squad and catching up, you found out she wasn't. It was a lot to take in. She did die… kind of? Then got turned into some powerful android who fights aliens for the sake of humanity.

》 Irrelevant. By the end of the day you two were in your house, listening to the cassette player she never seemed to get tired of.

》 She did seem a bit different though, only through very small things anyone else wouldn't really notice. Red Hood was definitely more clingy than she used to be, not to mention she was practically treating you like you were made of glass most of the time. It wasn't a bad thing though, just relaxing in her arms, getting the pillow treatment.

》 It did kind of suck when she had to go out on missions. She was on the best and one of the only squads around, but you still worried whether she'd make it back home or not.

》 Dates are certainly fun. Taking you to a shooting range, though not letting you shoot her gun of course, as you'd probably do more damage to yourself than the target. She's quite fond of showing off in simulations, or just going to see a movie or concert, though needless to say those are exceptionally rare these days.

》 Speaking of shooting ranges, out of everyone in her squad, Snow White is someone Red Hood loves to bring around. She's a nice girl, if a bit childish but she definitely looks up to Red Hood, and you to a certain extent. If you like guns or shooting, she'll be coming over a lot to run ideas through you or just hang out, almost seeing you as an older sibling.

》 Definitely protective of you. Not that many people would really try to hurt you. Your girlfriend is part of the Goddess Squad and an android that can tear through even the strongest Raptures with ease. Even then, she won't resort to violence too quickly, usually just using her words to drive them off. If that doesn't work… a flick probably won't kill them.

》 Red Hood is more romantic then her relatively rough and playful exterior lets on. You can't really blame her, you two didn't have the best life growing up, after all. Some nights it'll just be you two staring into the setting sun in a comfortable silence. She does still have a girly side buried deep somewhere in here, though it rarely comes out. She claims doing stuff like that just reminds her of what she’s fighting for, but with the way she stares at you, you know it's deeper than that.

》 It was quite the surprise when one day, out of nowhere, Red Hood approached you saying she was going on her last mission. You were a bit confused, but she brushed it off saying she's been fighting for long enough and wants to spend the rest of her life with you.

》 Was… that some kind of proposal?

》 If it was, you didn't have time to blink, let alone even ask before her face flushed red as she gave her usual smile and speeding off. You just chuckled and shook your head. She was always a free spirit, and you know she'll be back. She always comes back.

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

Chapter II

Silence takes over the courtyard as Commandant Panchek stands stunned on the dais in the front. “Come again, rider? How dare you interrupt-“

The boy steps to the side, revealing my lingering figure behind him and the mans face pales instantly when his eyes find my glaring ones. Fear strikes his face.

Damn, I know that my father is scary, and his reputation is ahead of him but that the higher ups still shit their pants when they see me will never not surprise me. That makes me think … how many people around here, besides the Commandant, did father informed that I'll join Basgiath this year?

“A-ah Cadet! I-it’s great to see you’ve made it safely across the Parapet.” Did he- did he just stutter?! My face surely must show amusement because he tries to hide his nervousness and fear with a shit eating grin. If one word describes this man, then it’s pathetic.

He turns to another third year I know all too well – Fen Riorsons son, Xaden. The bane of my father’s existence. He already warned me about my future wingleader and the other “marked ones”.

Xaden looks good though, even with the confused frown on his face that almost everyone up there wears since I arrived with the rider next to- oh well. Not next to me anymore. He must have went off to find his squad.

I can feel the stares on me and hear the whispers of the other cadets on me, while my glare is still fixated on the persons up the dais. My bet is, Panchek tells them who I am and that they discuss which wing I’ll join, even though General Melgren and Sorrengail made it crystal clear where I'll be going.

Suddenly Xaden tenses and throws a quick glance over his shoulder with fury in his eyes to which I only lift an eyebrow in question when our eyes meet. Then he turns back to the others and nods.

The crowd is waiting patiently for them to finish up and it’s Panchek who steps forward again.

“As I was saying, three hundred and two of you have survived the Parapet to become cadets today,” he wears that political slimy smile again. “Good job. Sixty-seven did not.”

Well, that’s unfortunate. My guess is that the weather had a big impact on those numbers, but it could have been that asshole that threw other candidates from the Parapet down like he owns the place. A shiver runs down my spine while thinking he lingers around somewhere, possibly making friends that are as crazy as him. Shits about to get real when my name is revealed, and I don`t know what I should hope for, but I fear the worst.

He talks about the Codex and what we should expect during our first year while he gestures wildly with his hands. All talk, no bite this man. I had the unfortunate luck to meet him more than just once through my father’s career and I did not enjoy his company any fucking minute. He is annoying as hell and wants General Sorrengails position first, and then my fathers. As if that would ever happen, when father’s signet is one of the most important on the continent and when he has Codagh.

“… My best advice? Don’t die.” Easier said than done.

He walks off the dais with his executive commandant in tow but not without throwing a quick glance my way. Please just go away.

A brunette woman steps forward and calls out the section and squad leaders to take their positions. While finding their place in the front, Dain Aetos eyes meet mine over the distance, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to study me, nice try buddy. He stands in the section of Second Wing; I think he is squad leader for Flame Section if I recall right.

We met each other over a year ago through Violet, since he is or was her best friend. I never liked him, too much of a “we have to strictly follow the rules” guy. But he isn't really fond of me too, thinks I am a bad influence on Violet.

One by one, cadets find their way into formation and soon Second Wing is called.

“Violet Sorrengail. Second Squad! Flame Section! Second Wing!”

Thank god's she is alive, but wait- those were not General Sorrengails orders!!? This is really bad and after finding said girl in the masses she seems to be relieved, but when I let my gaze fall on Dain again– oh? I see how it is. He must have something to do with this, because he has the audacity to smirk when his eyes find mine again. But I know it better than him, he won't be laughing for long.

Violet and her friend (?) walk over to their assigned squad and take place into formation. Third Wing is called and after that Fourth Wing. Time to shine – or not. I am one of the last cadets to be called into formation.

“Arya Melgren. Second Squad! Flame Section! Fourth Wing!” Xaden calls out.

There are more than just a few startled gasps and shocked whispers of my last name.

Only a handful of carefully selected people, mostly leadership, my teachers/trainers plus Violet and Dain, know about my existence, so I am not surprised that the majority here had no fucking clue that General Melgren has a daughter. Even the wingleader, beside Riorson, and their executives look uncomfortable.

I quickly make my way into formation while Xaden is busy studying Violet, trying to find out how the fuck he gets her into Fourth Wing and with the little tilt of his head I think he figured out what to do. He turns his back to the crowd to talk to the wingleader of Second Squad, and then the other two wingleader joins what seems to be a heated discussion. Whispers fills the Rotunda as everyone is waiting for further instructions from their leaders. They turn back and Xadens smirk tells me he got what he wanted. Thank fuck, I wouldn’t want to be in General Sorrengails wrath when she finds out that her daughter would have been somewhere else than the assigned wing.

“Dain Aetos, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven’s,” Nyra orders. My squad.

“Follow me” Beinhaven says and steps forward with her squad following. Well, everyone but me, I have specific orders from above. And while my now ex-squad gives me confused stares as they're passing me, Xaden and I share a quick glance. He nods once and I know, I stay where I am, about to join Aetos squad.

Aetos and his squad find their way into my direction, the squad leader at the front.

“Aetos” I greet him with a grin on my lips, arms crossed. I`ll annoy the fuck out of him this year, this will be so much fun. “Melgren,” he replies with a frown on his face, “I believe your squad is now in Second Wing.”

“I am right where I belong to. Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second Squad. Those were the orders” I say, my gaze hardening to underline what I am hinting at. Realization crosses his face, and he grows uncomfortable under my glare.

“Into formation, Second Squad!” he orders with a hiss when he notices cadets lingering around.

Violet and her friend find their place next to me, greeting me with a gentle smile which I gladly return. “Arya, I am glad to see you.” “Same goes for you, Silver One. I am happy to see you made it safely.”

The dark tanned girl next to her scoffs at my response, which confuses me. “Hardly” she murmurs.

My eyes find Violets blue ones with question marks all over my face. She leans over and whispers “A guy from now First Wing tried to kill me after throwing another candidate down the Parapet, Jack Barlowe is his name” in my ear. Oh shit, that must have been the asshole I saw earlier when I observed the candidates.

Eyes widening, I quickly scan her for possible injuries but to my relief, I find none.

“Quiet” Dain hisses in front of us.

Our focus shifts back up the dais where Xaden steps forward. Violet tenses as she keeps eye contact with our wingleader. I take her hand into mine to ease her nerves, which doesn`t goes unnoticed by her friend. Shit, I need to ask Vi for her name before I embarrass myself.

“Rhiannon Matthias” the girl whispers to which I send a thankful nod and a gentle smile, getting a grin back in return.

“You’re all cadets now,” Xadens voice caries out over the formations. “Take a look at your squad. These are the only people guaranteed by Codex not to kill you. But just because they can’t end your life doesn’t mean others won’t. You want a dragon? Earn one.”

Some cadets cheer like they already have a dragon, but the three of us stay quiet. There is nothing to cheer about in this hellhole.

I space out while Xaden edges the crowd but along the cheers … there is something different. It’s not just cheering, that`s-

“Oh gods, they are beautiful” Rhiannon whispers as my gaze shifts to the sky. There they are – the dragons belonging to the leadership of the Riders Quadrant.

Unbelievably gorgeous and incredibly deadly at the same time. It’s always unsettling to be around Codagh, since he is the biggest dragon on the continent and given our history, but Sgaeyl, Xadens dragon – she is undeniable fascinating and terrifying. Especially when she stares into Violets eyes like she wants to eat her.

A cadet bolds out of formation, screaming and trying to get away from here. All hell breaks loose.

[snapghoul]

If we happen to be left half alive

Ethan discovers Mav almost died during the uranium mission.

Note: first of three ideas requested by Sunshine, so thank you ❤️❤️

Warnings: discussion of near death

Song: won’t get fooled again - the who

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Pete definitely felt his age. Ejecting from a jet traveling at Mach speed left him feeling like he'd been through a blender. His chest throbbed with bruises, and though he was thankful nothing was cracked or broken, it sure felt that way. He slumped in a chair at his beach house, aware that Cyclone had made it abundantly clear he needed to stay in Fightertown vicinity. That was a bitter pill to swallow; all Pete wanted was to return to the desert, fix his plane, and find some peace away from the endless parade of pilots knocking on his door. He loved his squad—those kids were just concerned—but he needed some time to simply exist.

With nothing on but the sound of the waves crashing across the narrow street, he leaned back in the chair, eyes closed, letting the beach’s rhythm wash over him. After two weeks of non-stop action and nearly dying in a frozen tundra, he craved nothing more than stillness.

The screen door creaked open, and he sighed, expecting it to be Bradley or another Dagger who felt entitled to stroll in unannounced. He braced himself for the impending visit but cracked an eye open when he heard a familiar sigh and saw someone settle onto the couch opposite him.

“Walk right in, welcome to Maverick’s revolving door. How can I help you?” Pete quipped, a chuckle escaping his lips. Ethan smirked, a soft snort of amusement slipping out.

“You should really lock that. Who knows who might just walk in?” Ethan replied, slouching deeper into the cushion, a rare display of comfort.

“If I did, I’d have to replace it. The Navy would just break it down,” Pete shrugged, wincing slightly at the jab of pain.

“I bet,” Ethan nodded. “I heard about the uranium situation.”

Pete raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face, his brother always so quick to cut to the point. He lifted his head from the cushion, narrowing his eyes at his twin. “You heard, or you dug it up?”

Ethan matched his gaze, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Same difference.”

Pete rolled his eyes, anticipating that it wouldn’t be long before his brother started probing. They both understood the risks of their lives but rarely discussed them. Still, Ethan had always prioritized others' safety over his own, and Pete knew that well.

Pete prepared to reassure him, raising a hand to wave off the concern as he always did. But Ethan beat him to it, the fear and pain in his eyes silencing Pete's attempts at comfort.

“You got shot down, Peter! You infiltrated an enemy base to steal an F-14 Tomcat! You almost died—what the hell were you thinking?” The frustration echoed in Ethan's voice, the same tone he’d used when he shouted at Bradley for coming after him.

“Three times if you count getting shot at by a helicopter and almost going down again on the way out,” Pete replied, forcing a smile and shrugging, trying to lighten the mood.

But Ethan's expression darkened, brows furrowing and mouth tightening in disapproval.

“Ethan—” Pete started, but Ethan held up a hand to stop him.

“You almost died, three times! Look, I know I can’t talk, but—” Ethan clenched his fist, shaking his head in frustration. “You’re the only family I have left. If you die on me—”

Pete sat up with a groan. He knew this moment was coming, yet it still hit hard. It was a stark truth: they were all each other had. He felt the weight of their shared worry.

“I know, E, I know. I’m sorry. In that moment, if I didn’t put myself between those missiles and Bradley, it was a risk I was willing to take.” His voice was steady, resolute. He would take any risk for Bradley; he owed that much to Goose and Carol.

Ethan’s expression softened, realizing the depth of Pete’s commitment. It had been a long time since Bradley was mentioned, and Ethan understood how much the kid meant to his brother.

“Okay… just—be careful?” Ethan finally said, his voice more vulnerable.

Pete smiled, nodding. “Always. You be careful too.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their argument lingering. It wasn’t often they clashed like this. Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m actually surprised they didn’t send you. Y’know, a secret uranium site in a remote, impossible location seems more your style,” Pete said with a smile.

Ethan chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

[blood-injections]

pssssst

i would like to respectfully ask for venom sibs hcs

Of course of course

Just. My love and my hate for you are infinite. Yeah. Classic case of siblings that have been through hell. They want each other dead but they'd die for eachother, theyd kill themselves before letting the other one die.

Deadly fucking fighters, they're an awesome team, like if youve ever seen, idk, guardians of the galaxy movies, the newest one especially, this is just the first example that popped into my head, but like i remember the fight scenes were choreographed really well and theyre just. A fucking team. And they move around eachother and can fight without talking because they know eachother so well and understand and they move like one being, like they share a mind, all twisting and ducking around eachother and taking out enemies and its all seamless. Kobra and Poison are like that and are fucking deadly, especially with the mix of their abilities, Poison's deadly shot and Kobra's close range process, like theyll be back to back but twisting around eachother and poison shoots down the dracs hiding behind cover or shooting from furthur, while Kobra moves around like a serpent and takes out those who run in to try their luck, just getting cut down by his blade or boot or his power glove, if they manage to get that close. Fights seem to be over in seconds and they've laid waste to many a squad of dracs together.

Neurodivergent as hell. Kobra autism/bpd, Poison adhd

They're both naturally blond but while Kobra likes his blonde hair Poison HATES theirs, so they dye it every color under the sun, expect for..

If its a story where its less diluted by death spells and they love eacother, then they have matching hair streaks, Kobra the same red dye that Poison uses, and Poison just doesn't dye a strand of theirs, since their blonde matches.

Usually Poisons seen as the more dramatic one, but kobras just as bad, they're total bitches, nobody can gossip and shit talk like they can, and Kobra might actually be sassier than Poison is.

Trans in opposite directions and they find it so funny, Poison hates that Kobras taller though, because "You're my Little brother, you should be shorter than me :("

They both have a crippling addiction to chewing bubble gum.

They know everything about each other, like everything, even things unintentionally, like poison will completely fucking make up a fake situation and use it as blackmail against Kobra as a joke but then kobras like HOW DO YOU FUCKING KNOW THAT and poisons like wait you actually DID that???? I made it up?? And its like the most weird absurd thing ever that they just came up with for fun and. This has happened like several times. Where it turns out its real, they just guessed it, probably unconsciously mind read it, because they're like that. I think they do that a lot, like sometimes they have no clue what the other is thinking or going through but sometimes they're fucking mindmelded and can like read everything theyre thinking and communicate with just their eyes and shit and have entire silent conversations.

[rosemaryreaper]

Batten down the hatches!

This snippet has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and since I don’t know when I’ll ever finish it, here it is. The basic premise: a strange mystery lures our ragtag crew, including Danse, Haylen, and Ros, on an unconventional adventure outside the Commonwealth, with some help from Longfellow along the way.

Or, in other words, I really just wanted to use my sailing background in a fic for once.

* * * *

This wasn’t how Haylen had ever imagined she would die.

A fiery vertibird crash had been at the top of the list at one point. Execution by firing squad, briefly, at another. Throat torn out by a feral? Wouldn’t have been surprised. Replaced by a synth? Always a possibility. Shot by a raider? Hell, who hadn’t been. But to die lost at sea? The thought had never crossed her mind. Until now.

It was a toss-up how they would be lost. She had her caps on “lightning strike,” but “washed overboard” was a close second. She had never trusted those rusted old lifelines. The longer they took to get the sails in, though, the faster “capsizing” crept towards the lead.

The world roiled in shades of gray one ink drop away from pure sightlessness. The ocean was a shapeless mass of tar, heard more as an angry whisper on the hulls than seen. The rain just cold pinpricks on the exposed slivers of her skin, its faint pattering drowned out by the wind howling through the stays.

Then the world was bright, bright, bright. There was white light bursting in the clouds and silver gleaming on the backs of short, choppy waves. The deck flooded into view in front of her, beyond her hands and their tight-knuckled grip on the helm. Shadows stretched from frantic bodies. Rain dotted her vision like static on a terminal, blasted across her goggles by the wind. A reflector glinted on the elbow of someone’s foul weather jacket. Then it went dark again—darker than dark—while the white clung behind her eyes. Longfellow’s resulting curse lost itself in a crash of thunder.

Haylen fought the urge to rub her eyes to clear them. It wouldn’t have done any good, between the night and her rain-blasted goggles. She blinked until she could make out the three figures by the mast, barely visible in the dim beam of Longfellow’s headlamp. Danse’s broad shoulders strained as he shoved his weight against the winch handle, to no avail. Caleb held tight to the boom, tugging at the tangled lines. Neither were making progress. The mainsail strained dangerously at three-quarters of its full height.

Haylen imagined she could hear the anemometer whirring at the top of the mast. Numbers blinked on the tiny screens behind the helm: wind holding steady at 30 knots, gusting higher. There was a gust at 40 knots…48 knots…52 knots…climbing. Something groaned deep within the Kingfisher. They should have reefed the main minutes ago.

In the cockpit, somewhat sheltered from the rain, Ros and Chloe swiftly cranked in the jib. Haylen waved a hand when there was a handkerchief of the forward sail left. Trusting her, they stopped. Ros secured the significantly more cooperative line around the winch while Chloe locked the sheet. Haylen shoved down an instant wave of anxiety. She had made the call on instinct and five days’ worth of knowledge. She had no idea if she was right.

The starboard jackline furiously slapped the deck with each gust, tossing extra noise into the wind-driven cacophony. Longfellow’s headlamp shone in her direction. His rough voice rushed by her ears. She gave a frustrated flick of her wrist. She couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

A wave hit the hull beam-on, jolting the ship to port. Caleb’s ass hit the deck with a thud they could all feel. Haylen braced herself against the traveler before hers could do the same. Danse snagged the back of Caleb’s harness before he could tumble away. The jackline pulled taut as Longfellow stumbled, but otherwise the old harborman remained standing.

The headlamp relocated her. Longfellow pointed into the wind, arm straight and fingers together. She replied by turning the helm in the same direction. Bouncing on the choppy waves, the Kingfisher swung into irons, where Haylen held her best she could. She had just thrown the ship’s steering capability into the wind—almost literally.

Without any forward momentum, the Kingfisher jerked uncomfortably from hull to hull, rolling and dipping in a new direction each second. She swung the helm from port to starboard and back again, struggling to keep the bow to the wind. “Luffing” was too gentle a word to describe the aggressive beating of the sails. The boom creaked bitterly as it bucked against the mainsheet, rattling the blocks all the way aft on the traveler. Suddenly fearful one would break off and hit her, Haylen pulled herself closer to the helm.

The men were shouting at each other, the words even less sensical than before. Ros and Chloe clung to the cockpit tables, their feet slipping on the floor’s worn grip. Haylen couldn’t tell if the damp feeling beneath her foul weather gear was sweat or rain. The sky burst into cold silver. Thunder crashed back down with the dark. It was 3 A.M. and she had never felt more awake.

[gayartbirb]

About Poison Ivy and Count Vertigo

Hi, hello, I’m not dead, I’ve just been incredibly busy and kind of taking a break from social media in general. Currently on a MASSIVE DC Comics kick and there’s one particular topic that I’ve seen some HORRENDOUS takes about on here, so let’s discuss.

I never thought I’d be saying this, but CONTENT WARNING: I’m unfortunately going to be discussing topics related to rape and sexual assault below the cut. If that ain’t your cup of tea, I completely understand, and you’re free to scroll away now. TLDR if you don’t wanna read the whole thing: I’ve seen people accuse Poison Ivy of raping Count Vertigo just because she brainwashed him. These people have clearly never read the comic in question, and I’m sick and tired of this misinformation being spread around.

Okay? Okay, let’s do this.

So, it shouldn’t suprise anyone that Poison Ivy is probably one of my favorite DC characters of all time. I mean, I consider her to be one of my first gay awakenings (the others were Darcy from Winx Club and Emma Frost from Wolverine and the X-Men, if you’re wondering). So, when I see people accuse Ivy of being a full-blown RAPIST, I’m obviously gonna be upset.

Now, me being a simp is not clouding my judgement in this case. When I first saw people making this claim, I tried my dammdest to put my bias to the side and figure out what the hell these people were talking about. Lo and behold, I find out that it’s complete BS.

This particular claim stems from John Ostrander’s run on Suicide Squad starting back in 1987. I’m specifically referring to issue #45. This section on Count Vertigo’s Wikipedia page explains what went down infinitely better than I could, so I’m just gonna quote it here:

“He would later come to join the Suicide Squad in exchange for a shortened prison sentence, and it was revealed that he was plagued by bipolar disorder. After the Suicide Squad disbanded for the first time, Count Vertigo was captured by Vlatavan rebels, who wished to use his powers to overthrow the current Vlatavan government. They used a variety of drugs on him, each with a differing effect on the Count, as he would for example suddenly see himself as an Angel of Vengeance, sent to wreak havoc on the current rulers. Although he largely believed himself master of his own will, his mood swings were completely subject to his captors.

He was captured by Poison Ivy when the Suicide Squad came in and resolved the conflict and Kaligari (then-ruler of Vlatava) was murdered. Count Vertigo was Poison Ivy's slave for a long period of time, during which he grew to hate Poison Ivy and frequently threatened to kill her when he was free of her control. Amanda Waller was able to free Vertigo of her control so that he could stop a group of missiles hitting Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem at the behest of the villain Kobra. If the Dome had been destroyed, innocent lives would have been lost in a resulting war.

Vertigo succeeded, and it turned out that as he went into rehab and expunged the chemicals that had been pumped into his body by both Ivy and the rebels, that he was unwittingly cured of the disorder that had plagued him for so long.”

I’d also like to point out this snippet:

“Vertigo also resolved his grudge with Poison Ivy. During the War of the Gods crossover, he was perfectly willing to let her die when he found her abandoned on an Amazonian island; ironically, she was bound and promised whoever freed her, her undying devotion. Snickering snidely, Vertigo left her to die in the ruins of the collapsing temple they were in. Still, Ivy was saved, and Count Vertigo would later reluctantly work alongside her in the Suicide Squad, leaving their grudge be.”

Now, what does this have to do with Ivy allegedly being a rapist? Well, I’ve seen multiple people on here claim that Ivy raped Count Vertigo when she brainwashed him. To be quite blunt, this couldn’t be further from the truth. There is no, and I mean NO instances of Ivy raping or assaulting Count Vertigo. The worst thing she does is have him do things for her. That’s it. No overly sexual stuff in there at all. Here, take some pages that (hopefully) prove my point:

So, tell me why I’m seeing people say stuff like this (these were all taken from @super-hero-confessions btw. No hate to that blog, and I’m sorry y’all got caught in the crossfire on this one):

“What Poison Ivy did to Count Vertigo is exactly what Purple Man did to Jessica Jones. If it’s okay to stan Ivy, then it should be okay to stan Killgrave.”

“POISON IVY IS A RAPIST, USING HER PHEROMONES TO MAKE PEOPLE DO THINGS THEY WOULDN'T NORMALLY DO IS THE SAME AS GIVING SOMEONE A DATE RAPE DRUG. TRYING TO CALL PEOPLE HOMOPHOBIC BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE THE PAST OF YOUR FAVE CHARACTER BEING POINTED OUT, JUST SHOWS IMMATURITY AND THE FACT THAT HARL/IVY FANS FORGET THAT IVY IS A VILLAIN.”

“IT'S REALLY TELLING TO ME THAT THE PEOPLE WHO CALL JOKER A RAPIST FOR WHAT HE DID TO BARBARA ARE THE TYPE OF PEOPLE WHO MAKE EXCUSES OR TRY TO DOWNPLAY POISON IVY ACTUALLY RAPING COUNT VERTIGO. "IT WAS A DIFFERENT TIME BACK THEN, IT DOESN'T COUNT." YOU'RE DISGUSTING AND A HYPOCRITE.”

“I LOVE SEEING POISON IVY FAN BLOGS SAYING IT'S WRONG TO LIKE PURPLE MAN BECAUSE HE'S A RAPIST. I GUESS THEY THINK A WOMAN RAPING A MAN LIKE WHAT IVY DID TO COUNT VERTIGO DOESN'T COUNT.”

“POISON IVY DOESN'T DESERVE A REDEMPTION ARC BECAUSE SHE IS A RAPIST.”

“IT ANNOYS ME WHEN PEOPLE SAY JOKER SHOULDN'T BE GAY BECAUSE HE'S DONE BAD THINGS. POISON IVY IS A RAPIST AND A SERIAL KILLER AND NO ONE COMPLAINS ABOUT HER BEING LGBT? WHY CAN'T JOKER BE?”

Now, I’m saying all of this in relation to Count Vertigo. If there’s any ACTUAL instances of Ivy raping someone, feel free to let me know. HOWEVER, if you’re going to do that, I want you to cite the actual comic where it happens. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in college, it’s that you should never make a claim if you can’t back it up with an actual source.

That being said, I think the idea of Ivy and Vertigo being a couple is really funny, and I’m absolutely down to write a fanfiction addressing all of this stuff if anyone’s interested. I may be a shitty fiction writer, but dammit, I’m willing to try.

Anyway, stop calling Ivy a rapist. Sure, she does stuff that crosses a line on occassion, but she’s a villain. I’m pretty sure they all do that.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go listen to some Precure OST’s to cleanse my mind of this absolute nonsense.

[hypnified]

Oc incorrect quotes

Storm: *Somehow pushing a door that clearly says pull*

Barks: *Filming him* Try pushing harder

Storm: IT'S NOT OPENING

Barks: Fascinating, try again.

-

*To Pluto*

Crimson: Somewhere out there, there is a tree tirelessly producing oxygen so you can breathe.

Crimson: And I think you owe it an apology.

-

Storm: K

Erix: Well potassium is a very reactive element.

Erix: Very reactive...

Erix: Unlike the response you just gave me.

-

Irais: Bitches are mad at me, but at least I'm real.

Dipper: Yeah, real fucking stupid.

Irais:

Dipper: I sense I have made a mistake.

-

Crimson: I like to think of myself as a semi responsible adult here.

Pluto: Frey is 70 of your impulse control and you know this Crimson.

Frey: I feel like Crimson is the more responsible one of us two though.

Crimson: We are both 70 of each others' impulse control.

Frey: Just two lil beasts in pinwheel hats spinning on the merry-go-round at dangerous velocities, holding each other’s hands so the other doesn’t fall off.

-

Frey: Want to hear a hard riddle?

Crimson: Sure.

Frey: A rooster laid an egg on a roof. Which way did it roll?

Crimson: ...down?

Frey: N-

Pluto: Who cares about which way it rolled, it would be scrambled eggs by then.

Frey:

Frey: No, it's that roosters don't lay eggs... Jesus Christ...

-

Bear: Good. Thanks, dad.

Barks: You just called Irais “dad”. You just said “thanks, dad.”

Bear: What? No, I didn’t. I said “thanks, man”.

Irais: Do you see me as a father figure, Bear ?

Bear: No. If anything I see you as a bother figure ‘cause you’re always bothering me.

Dipper: Hey! Show your father some respect!

-

Bear: Rules were made to be broken.

Dipper: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken.

Irais: Uh, piñatas.

Glowstick: Glow sticks.

Barks: Karate boards.

Phoenix: Spaghetti when you have a small pot.

Bear: Rules.

Dipper:

-

Barks: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Irais and Phoenix's convo?

Bear: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.

Dipper: I'm in the washing machine.

Glowstick: I'm in the closet.

Bear: We accept you Glowstick <3

Glowstick: No I'm literally in the closet.

Bear: Love is love <3

-

Squad reactions to being called straight:

Dipper: The fuck, no I'm not.

Phoenix: Excuse the hell out of you?

Bear: Ding dong, you are wrong!

Irais: Who told you that? And why did they lie?

Barks: Rude.

Glowstick: *punches the person*

-

Lazarus: Isn’t it a bit dangerous?

Phoenix: Lazarus, please. We’ve in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt.

Lazarus: ...

Phoenix: Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt.

Lazarus: ...

Phoenix: Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves on the way home.

-

Phoenix: Why am I the bad guy?

Lazarus: I don't know, why am I the pretty one? We all have our thing.

-

Phoenix: Everybody shut up, I'm thinking.

Lazarus, patting them on the back: Well, don’t think too hard. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.

-

Lazarus: Where are my fucking keys?

Phoenix: Lazarus, Pluto is around, can you say it a little nicer?

Lazarus: May I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?!

-

Pluto: I find it very unseemly of Lazarus to start dating again. Isn't the customary period of mourning 10 years?

Phoenix: Die. Let's find out.

-

*Comments under an image of a really hot knife cutting bread*

Erix: Imagine stabbing someone with this knife.

Barks: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Skunker: if you want information it is

Storm: why would you STAB a person when you can have TOAST?

-

Barks: How did none of you hear what I just said?!

Storm: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Erix: I got distracted halfway through.

Skunker: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

-

Erix: Every zoo is a petting zoo unless you’re a coward.

Bear: I’m worried about you.

-

Erix: Reverse tooth fairy where you leave money under your pillow and the tooth fairy comes and leaves you a bunch of teeth.

Bear: Why?

Erix, shaking a bag of teeth: Just because.

-

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 12

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC

A/N: I don't have much to say other than, the talk you have all been waiting for is here. Enjoy. The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

Tonight everyone celebrates. The dining hall is loud and chaotic as every riders is here. The kitchen had gone all out with the food for tonight, and someone had definitely spiked the lemonade. Tonight we are all riders, celebrating as one. The second and third years who had kept their distance, now welcomed us with open arms. We had proven we had what it takes to be riders, and had dragons of our own to prove it.

As the night goes on, people start sneaking off to each others rooms to celebrate in another way. I see a few of my squad mates among them. I can’t help but smile as I notice Rhiannon sneak of with Sawyer. Not long after Bodhi disappears as well with a first year he had been talking to most of the night. With his departure I was on my own. My eyes scan the room hoping to see the familiar curly hair of the one I’m looking for. But I come up short, and I can’t help but feel disappointed. I had tried to find him after we had all received our relics, but he had disappeared along with Xaden. Judging by the look on Xaden’s face during it all, I wondered if it had something to do with Dain kissing Violet. Another two who were also missing. After this morning I had hoped to grab him and talk to him. But it seemed tonight was another night where he was nowhere to be seen.

The walk back to my dorm room is quiet, with most people back in the privacy of their dorms celebrating, or back in the dining hall. Seems most people were smart enough to put silencing wards on their doors or go to a second or third years room. I round the corner to where my new room is and stop in my tracks. There leaning against my door is the tall and muscular, curly haired figure I had been searching for all night. Garrick. I hadn’t made a sound but as if he knows I’m there, his head turns to where I stand. My heart flutters as our eyes meet. I can tell he had been waiting a while. A small smile forms on his face as he see’s me, pushing himself off the door to stand up straight as I make my way over. Only he could make a normal sized door look small, his head getting very close to the top as he stands.

“Was wondering where you had gotten to. Was starting to think you’d found other ways to celebrate.” I say, trying to make a joke of the situation as I stand in front of him.

The way his eyebrows furrow at me tells me he is not impressed at my attempt at a joke. “I told you the other week, I don’t do casual hook ups.”

”But you did.” I point out, referencing his past times with Imogen.

He sighs and drops his head, his curls falling in front of his eyes. I don’t know if its the spiked lemonade talking, but god do I want to run my hands through them. Like I use to back in Aretia. Back when I would always be over at his place. His mum never complained about me being there. Hell she had complained if I wasn’t there. After dinner we would always sit out on the balcony or on his bed, his head in my lap as we would talk or just simply enjoy each others company. I would run my fingers through his hair out of habit. I wondered if they were as soft as I remembered.

”And as I also said. If someone else wasn’t ‘dead’.” He uses his fingers to emphasise the word dead as he looks up at me. “I wouldn’t have done so.”

The intensity in his stare has my heart skip a beat. I’d been avoiding the conversation, and now there was no way to avoid it. It was very clear that Garrick was here to talk about that moment in the Healers Quadrant. And honestly I wanted to have that talk. Especially after talking to Xaden the other night.

“Yeah, I remember.” I mumble as I look down at my hands and pick at a stray fingernail.

”Surprised you do with how quick you ran off and have been avoiding me.”

And there it is. I feel as if Garrick has just dropped a brick in the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t wrong. The only reason we hadn’t talked was because of me. He had tried, and I’d run off as soon as I’d seen him. The only one I had really talked to since was Bodhi. Even Xaden had been victim to some of it till recently. Bodhi and Imogen were both quite impressed at my ability to avoid my section leader and wingleader.

Garrick reaches out and grab my hands, stopping my fidgeting. My skin feels like its on fire where his hand grips mine. I look up to see him looking down at me, the same look he had given me in the Healers Quadrant that day. His eyes hopeful I will say what he wants me to say.

“I shouldn’t have run off. I was…” What was I? Scared? Shocked? Unsure.

A bang at the end of the hallway startles both of us, our gaze shifting to a couple trying to get into one of their rooms. Garrick tugs on my hands and opens my door before leading us inside. After closing the door he leads me over to the bed and sits me down as he kneels on the ground in front of me. It’s one of the few moments Garrick and I are at the same height.

”In all the years I’ve known you Ophelia, I don’t think I have ever seen you that scared before.” He starts, reaching out and taking my hands in his again. “But correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I saw happiness to. Like you had been waiting to hear what I said.”

I sigh and look down at our joined hands. He wasn’t wrong, but there was still that part of me that was scared what would happen if it went badly. I didn’t want to be what came between Garrick and Xaden. I pull my hands from his and stand up, pacing back and forth behind him. He stands and watches me, concern in his eyes. His heart is essentially in my hands right now. And I know that terrifies us both. For me I could say something wrong and wreck this completely. For Garrick. I know he’s never been like this with anyone. He’s never laid out his emotions like this to someone. And that terrifies him. I know it does. If I turned him down, something tells me he would never let anyone in like he has with me.

”You’re right. I won’t deny that Garrick. I’ve been dying to hear you felt the same way I did since….. Since I don’t even know when.” I start, a small smile on the edge of his lips. “But I am so terrified.”

I stop and turn to him from my spot near the window. His eyes meeting mine in an instant due to him watching my every move.

”I am terrified that if this,” I gesture between us, “Goes wrong, then it affects more than us.”

He sighs and nods. “You’re worried about mine and Xaden’s friendship. All of our frienships. You don’t want to come between us.”

I nod. Its as if he can read my mind. “If this went so badly that we don’t want anything to do with each other, it would tear him apart. Not to mention he would probably tear you apart if we did get together.”

”He already knows my feelings. It was kind of hard to hide them five years ago.”

I look at him confused, unsure as to what he is referring to. Then it clicks. Very soon it would be five years since I had ‘died’. Garrick sits on the bed looking down at his hands. As if preparing himself for what he’s about to tell me.

”It was already an emotional day as it was. Watching our parents die and getting our rebellion relics. But we all had each other.” He starts as his gaze flicks to mine before going back to his hands. “I was stood next to Xaden. He and I had just gotten our relics.” His arm with the relic twitching as he tells me the memory. “We all go to leave, but Melgren stops Xaden. I remember how he pulled the bag we had last seen you with from his dragon and threw it at Xaden’s feet.” I swear I hear his voice shake slightly. “I remember the closure breaking and the contents tumbling to the ground. He didn’t say anything to us. He didn’t need to. We knew what he was hinting at.”

He pauses and looks up at me. And my heart nearly breaks at the emotion in his eyes from retelling the memory. I swear I see tears in his eyes before he blinks them away.

“The rest is a blur. Bodhi told me a group of them had to hold me back as I tried to go after Melgren as he walked away. After he went, apparently I just knelt by your things staring. Even Xaden couldn’t snap me out of it. Apparently I even tried to fight him when they tried to get me to move. A few days later before we got shipped off to our new homes, Xaden pulled me aside and I told him everything.” He pauses again. My heart breaks. I never knew what happened. I never knew how they found out. I just assumed they would think I had gotten away or got caught up in our escape. “He just sat there and listened to me as I broke down and told him every single thing. I think he’s the only person to see my cry besides my mother. I swear I even nearly got him to cry as I told him how much I cared for you. How I had planned to find you after all this was done and tell you. But then, I didn’t think I would ever get the chance to.”

Its as if I can see the memory through his eyes. Even I want to cry and I wasn’t even there. I was the one they were mourning at the time. He stands and walks over to me, placing his hands on my hips tightly as if he’s worried I am going to run again. His thumbs rubbing into the exposed skin where my top has ridden up.

“I have waited too damn long to tell you how I feel, and now I’ve been given a second chance. And I will be damned little one, if I don’t take it. Because I am not losing you again.” He rests his forehead on mine, his hazel eyes staring into my green ones. “I am willing to risk everything to give this a go, and I will do everything I can to make sure this does not end. I am yours, and you are mine.”

I know every word Garrick speaks is true. Every word he spoke is fuelled with emotions he’s been holding back. I know without a doubt, if we go down this route, this is it for him. There is no going back. And he will fight with everything he has to make this work. And I know I will to. I barely nod my head before Garrick grasps my face in his hands and his lips are on mine.

A/N 2: Next part might be a little bit..... spicy

Part 13

Tag List: @riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh

[boobachu]

cont. Like like I ran out of space but still read more so I don't spoil people like yeah

Yeah I guess I ran out of space.

Tho I guess if we all hate ourselves, we have to love each other so we have love. oh well

Ah Spiky's shutting down. Puffyhead's a real bro

"I know you don't mean it, but I'll give you some space"

What a mature fucker.

I guess like... aunno what happened besides the squad disbanding cuz everyone hates each other.

I dunno.

damn-ass dead bird

ah spiky is a shopping cart pusherrrrrrr

damn rehearsing convo with sign language

WTF shutterbug in a skirt

time to head to pinky's house round 2

FUNERAL

well who died?!

Grandma?

damn she died.........

Ah well, she was there for like one fucking scene so wheetayver

damn buterfly, so wait it was a prophetic dream?

heh

Mom once said a dragonfly reminded me of my uncle

Watching a man die never leaves you...

what the fuck is this stupid shit

Just going on a field trip I guess

summer vaycay

ROFL spiiky ate shit

He'll be miserable whenever he's with her, bitch he's always miserable!

Might as well be upset about throwing gas in a volcano baybeeeeeee

So spiky engages fake-ass mode and now it's baking a cake for mom's b'day

well he lived.

Fireworks time, I miss fireworks.

Oh hey senor poofyhead I miss you

we all share the sky...

Man I want nachos.

I want a snow cone...

Ah so pinky is 18

WAIT

She can feel the vibrations of the fucking fireworks!

Fnatastique

So Shoko goes home and shutterbug asks spiky to get the camera from home so I'm expecting bad things...

Oh wait it's Eshoyah

dude no

don't kill yourself you're so sexy ahaha

HE TRIPPEDN SFKNJBDSFLKJ

kjsgdfhljsfgdhljdshfgljhsgdfojlkhndsfoglikjoierjgopiejsg

THE HATERS MUST BE DRIVING AUTOMATIC

CUZ MY BOY GOT THE CLUTCH

c'mon man

MAsh A

gfuckign mash A man

ROTOATE THE CONTROLLER THAT WORKS BETTER

ikjfdhszgiokjfdwsahnogijfdhsafngjhndsafgljkdhnsfg

UNO REVERSE

Well, Shouyou survived, so schwey wait is it Shoyouah?

Whatever Spiky

So pinky mom and shuterbug apologize to spiky's moms

WHAT

BITCHARONI BULLYING PINKY? SHE GOT A DMAN ARM LYNCH

YEAH SLAP HER ASS

Fucking dude like ain't pinky suffered enough

Just everyone bowing to moms damn

Ain't that just high school tho

ohhhhh

shutterbug took pictures of dead shit cuz she thought if she showed her sister dead shit she'd stop wanting to kill herself ROFL

Sorry babe that's not how it works, like even after this event the feeling that you shoulad never been born remains.

Senor poofyhead returns

Ohhh Spiky's in a coma okay

Man sometimes I wish I would just die.

Damn this part made me cry ROFL

So Shouko is getting ther band back together

"You can change, start now, it's not too late" sage words, pinky.

trippy ass animation again

ah shit prophetic dream again

No spiky! Stay away from the trippy light! there are ghosts in there!

And pinky don't you dare kill yourself I swear to god

good spiky, you're awake

DUDE I did the exact same thing when I woke up from the splinter surgery, just rip em out

How the hell do they just let him run out of the color theory business just

weepy bitches.

Way to go, clutch. That's your name from now on, you're Clutch.

Okay so Fireworks and Clutch have a psychic link now I guess, I mean I've seen it happen. Prolly the most realistic thing in this silly movie.

Just two fucking miserable bastards, kneeling at a bridge.

?????

Yeah I don't get this part but I guess Clutch said cringe again cuz he's waffling.

yeah aunno WTF happened but at least Fireworks and Clutch are okay enough to go on.

Wait bitchy girl was by Clutch's side the whole time? LOL WTF dumbass.

I still don't 100% get the X gag cuz like, you can still see and hear them.

Sister's hubby! Street fighter I gues aunno

"Since you're alive again, will you please teach me how to study?"

I had a dream I died once, they said it wasn't my time... if I knew better I'd've said to make time cuz damn life never got better.

Wait so, he has trouble looking people in the eye and that's why he's an outcast? What? That's stupid no one looks people in the eye except job interview freaks.

Honestly I can't relate to this cuz like, high school, despite everything horrible that happened to me, was when my classmates accepted me the most.

SENOR PUFFYHAIR HITERLER STASCHE SJDFH

Listen I know facial hair is annoying but that's not a look.

oh his lucky stache, he sacrificed his looks for a saving throw

REALEST BRO EVER I'M SORRY I DOUPTED YOU SENOR PUFFYHAIR

They tried making a thousand cranes to save his life LOL

and then there's this asshole also the colors kinda hurt my eyes sorry if you have eye strain gonna tag it now

mooooo-ron

ROFL

bitchy learned sign language to continue being a bitch

she's truly the bitch with a heart of gold

Ah here's the reason why I decided to watch this.

Ah so it's a bookend for how the movie truely started.

I don't fucking undersstand why it happens tho, like I guess cuz he knows people care if he died or not?

Which, damn you know we really do live in a world where no one cares if someone died or not.

It's hilarious how like, that's the most unrealistic part of the movie, people giving a shit ROFL

It was a really good movie! I'd like to own the BVD someday (tho realistically I'll have to download a rip with how broke I am)

That one part still just like ROFL aunno what a random song.

Sometimes I wish I was brave enough to end it all, but I'm just too afraid of pain. I guess once I'm in physical agony nonstop maybe it'll be easier? Whatever mayn.

It's kinda fucked up how they trauma bonded over this but hey.

I guess back to tom & jerry.

Watching the shape of voice

cuz twitter was like "Xs over faces gag!" and I'm like "neat"

So spoilers I guess uh whatever

Anyways spikey boy is all about to kill himself, took out money and whatever gave it to someone and there was like he was gonna jump at a bridge and there was a family popping fire crackers so he left

Now it's like "My Generations" by Rolling Stones is playing and ROFL

Anyways he's a kid again so uh aunno.

LOL he's doing the mechanics pencil needle thing

So new kid in class, I guess she's mute so she's communicating via text

Ahhh she's deaf so that makes sense, everyone's trolling her now but I'm kinda expecting bullying cuz this has an edgy crying vibe.

I guess this takes place before the advent of mobile computers so there's no text to speech or anything. Tho I've also never been in this situation so I have no idea how it'd work besides what it is, but yeah the teacher is a piece of shit.

Making fun of slow readers just Billy Madison "T-T-T-Day junior" and not really accomidating for the fact pinky can't hear.

Spiky boy was making fun of pinky's voice, and now he's trolling her and throwing sand like what.

Now they're teaching the class sign language.

Now boring girl is butthurt cuz she's too lazy to learn.

Ah the person helping her is being outcast, I can relate to that, my one friend basically was outcast by being my friend ROFL

Spiky boy wrote this after pinky's new friend helped her and is gone now after being bullied

So after he's like "who coulda dood this" pinky's all like

"I said no need to thank me"

Yeah this is very familiar to me... honestly like I wonder if Pinky will grow up obsfucating stupidity and being a perpetual jokester so you can never know if she's actually clueless or making fun of you which is better than being called retarded by shitlords (lords of shit)

Bully montage! bully montage!

Oh wait he fucking pulled out her hearing aids and she's bleeding what the shit

"You went too far"

Pinky apologized to Spiky???? dunno why????

Then fucking Spiky threwt her notebook in some fountain so she had to get in.

I guess years later someone threwt spikey into the same fountain ROFL

Ah so Pinky is absent now, damn eight hearing aids were broken or missing.

Time for everyone to turn on Spikey, the principal or whatever is asking for who is the bully. The teacher just straight-ass outed Spikey time for street justice.

Just a fucking coward's cotillion, everyone outing each other.

Tho it's very clear Spiky is the scapegoat as he's the one that took the bullying furthest out of the class ROFL

Now that I've never experienced in any school, but I guess bullying never went this far to where the teachers actually did anything.

Tho that is true, bullying is a way to fit in, hell even I've done it once (after years of being bullying, suffering doesn't make you a better person, it just makes you suffer)

Anyways it's kinda funny seeing one of the mob being ousted and now being the pariah.

Bully montage! Bully montage! Spiky edition!

Pinky was scrubbing Spikey's desk cuz aunno honestly I don't know why she's so nice and why Spiky is still just pissed off.

ROFL Pinky bit spiky ROFLGF just red

REDASS BEATDOWN ROFL

GET HIS ASS BITCH

Pinky's patience has been shattered hell hath no fury like a 57th chance spat in its face!

Anyways Pinky finally transferred so now Spiky is all alone in a coward's cotillion so ROFL

Ah back to buisiness suit spiky. How will he kill himself... by learning sign language...

Okay...

Wait Pinky all grewt up?!?!?!

What no apology? I'd lead with that you fuck nugget.

Yeah natch she'd run, fuck that bitch-ass.

Honestly I dunno what I'd do if I met one of my bullies, but also I dunno what I'd do if I met that one kid I joined the guys bullying that one time.

I guess just avoid cuz it's like no one cares who's sorry just stay out of my life forever and ever amen.

So I guess Spiky is returning this old-ass notebook? The pacing of this movie is weird.

Ah so Spiky learnt sign language.

ohhhh so that's what pinky was saying before spiky flipped his gourd, she wanted to be friends.

Now the damn-ass animation went trippy.

Ah we're back in another time period.

Just breakfast time I guess.

Some bobble hat kid? Ah I guess this is after the failed suicide attmpt, and he's living with his mom still, that's how it is ROFL

ROFL yeah he sold all his life away so now it's just like, when you can't kill yourself and you're just ROFL ¥1,700,000!!!!!

A

SHE BURNEND S IT SKDLKSJFNLKJF MOOOOOOOOOM

Ah in middle school blondie make sure everyone knew what spiky did

So he never cold escape it

So he pushed everyone out ROFL

Ah so that's why the stupid X face gag

Wait now people are being nice to him???? Wait what? What's going on

Ah so now he's making up things they're saying about him okay.

ROFL This movie is so fucking funny, kids really are that fucking full of shit too.

So are adults, like everyone's a hypocrite. That's just human nature I guess.

Even if you think you're above that, you have contradictions that are built into your soul.

That is one thing tho, even if you wish you were never born, if you want the pain to end, it's really hard to kill yourself.

You have to know, and the very core of your being, it has to be a fact more solid than gravity,

ah he's ignoring a bully

Ah he's intervening wow.

but like when someone kills themselves, it's the end of a fucking options, you've tried so fucking hard to live but it's impossible.

So yeah he's late to see pinky cuz the bully stole his bike, so like he missed his appointment and pinky's friend shut him outside even with the alibi bread.

SO poofy head, the person he saved, his X fell off and I guess they're friends now.

So spiky is asking poofy head how you become friends like if there's a process, so they do a weird handshake?

Very droll.

I like poofy head, he's droll, smoking a franch fry

So spiky tries to see pinky again and like just uhp photo chick shuts him down again.

"She's not here" oh photo chick is pinky's girlfriend and like senor poofy head backs him up

LOL WTF

Man spiky escapes pursued by pinky and poofy head and shutterbug spy on them

So I guess they're using the bread to feed the fish??????

What the hell

So Spiky was ascared of what was in the notebook and tossed it so pinky dived into the koi thing and like uhp panty shot? nope

Also I guess shutterbug is a boy, he just sounds like a girl.

Just a couple of dubmasses being watched by two goobers, fun dynamic.

hoo doggy

Pinky is a dumby according to shutterbug

So I guess current time is high school? Right? I think?

Ah shutterbug posted him jumping off a bridge to twitter and now he's in trouble, suspended for a week.

So shutterbug is sleeping in a playscape for some raisin

Like moms asked spiky to pick up his sister who is like 6yo or whatever.

So Shutterbug confesses to spiky about the trolling.

for realz

Oh that's his niece! His sister is the mom!

She's nibling now tho! ROFLFOFLFOFLOFL

So shutterbug is staying at spiky's house cuz he's homeless, staying in his room.

Shutterbug took a pic of a damn frog.

barefoot.

So he gave his shoes to shutterbug now they're

Wait so like, shutterbug and pinky are on the outs cuz he used her shampoo??????? wat

Yeah just hold on this shot, like okay sure yeah okay nice shot fucking stupid.

ohhhhhh so shutterbug is pinky's younger sister

ROFL the mom slapped spiky's dumbass.

zdskfjnszdnkjfbndkjsafgdkjsfg

So Senor Poofyhead is treating shuterbug like a brah and spiky's all "that's a girl" and he just backs the fuck up

I dunno what pinky wants but I guess spiky has to find her old friend, ohhhhhhh yeah that one girl!

Senor poofyhead rollin dem Gs

So squad's out heading to find whatshernuts.

So I guess they're IMing on thet rain now, honestly liveblogging is detracting from this movie about as much as the shitty encoding.

Whatshernuts: accquired

part of me wishes there was like, subtitles, but I guess that kinda gives the vibe of what Pinky experienced when people talked with their back turned to her yaw meen?

So it's clever

Random-ass cat girl

meow meow club?

So spiky and poofyhead are at the gatito parlor trying to reunite whats her face with the girls so yeah.

So something's wrong with Shoko (pinky) (it takes me a while to learn names whoever cares)

Naoka... is uh... is that what's her face? Ah she's still an omega bitch.

So she's trying to bond with Spiky, but he ain't having nonna dat

WAIT SHE'S A GROWN ASS WOMAN RIPPING OUT HEARING AIDS??????????????????

I guess that's what happens when you don't bully bullies.

Wait so shutterbug sleeps in a closet?????

what?????

Honestly I wouldn't mind that. Tho what closet's wide enough for me? ROFL

What the fuck does pony tails mean?

Just eeee ponytail! who cares

I wish I could rock it but it always sinks cuz my hair is heavy.

So spiky said some cringe to shoko so now he needs some fucking bread

Also I guess Shoko can speak now? Suddenly? Aunno.

Like she's more articulate wait what

She love him?????

What in sam hill.

SHOKO MAKES THE PASS AND SPIKY FUMBLES COSTING THE GAAAAAAMMMMMMME

ROFL

RIP Shoko, beefing so fucking hard

Like dude Spiky needs hearing aids like I mean YEAH SHE SLURRED but like she clearly went "I lurbe you" big as dallas fucking I guess it's something that didn't translate well like he was like "oh yeah advertising at sunset w00t"

Wait why did that bishie's face uncover the X?

The moon.

She said "the moon"

que

what

nani

Yeah def didn't translate well.

Pinky's got the kicksies she's just like me france!

Wait so now we're going to six flags

I hate amusement parks, we went to six flags in catholic school and I spent the entire day doing nothing cuz I'm scared of all the rides.

sigh

Man poofyhead don't want redhead touching spiky. LOL

Poofyhead gets dibs

Yeah poofyhead has real hair! it's called curly

awwwe Spiky realizes he has friends

Ah hell blond boy is working at the park ROFL

Xs re-applied RIP

So the Xs are like the wall.

So bitchy and pinky go on the ferris wheel while spiky laments.

Oh boy top secret video time

SHUTTERBUG FUCKING LEFT THE CAMERA ON AND GAVE IT TO HER SISTER SJFHFOLKJSJFOLKSF

Man she reminds me of my brother, he always knew what was up... I kinda wonder if it's cuz he saw what happened to me...

Tho he also always had friends, and I always was a tagalong... like can you imagine a 10 year old playing with toddlers? That was me.

"I don't hate you, I hate myself"

Damn, bitchy punched pinky WTF

God blondey is so fake ROFL

That's how it is tho I guess.

Dammit Spiky you'd better not commit sudoku.

"Yeah, I hate me too"

[venomvalley]

CANINE TEETH

pairing: older!leon x gn!reader

summary: A mission leaves you wracked with survivor’s guilt. Leon helps the only way he knows how.

words: 3.3k

warnings: blood, explicit injury descriptions, death (unnamed characters), smoking, angst with a happy ending

notes: an anon requested hurt/comfort and i absolutely ran with it. RE lore is confusing so forgive me if things are wrong.

You’re bloodied from the waist up, and you dread Leon’s first sight of you.

The bioweapon just would not fucking die—at least, not without taking half your squad with it. Their bodies have been laid out on the pavement, away from all the rubble, and the bullet casings, and the fresh blood.

Some faces you don’t recognize, and the ones you should have been mutilated beyond human comprehension. You help identify most of them by way of tattoos and birthmarks and the slivers of their faces still left intact. An eye here, the twist of a mouth there, a crushed nose. 

Some time between sifting through the leftovers of the town, picking out the pieces of your friends, and breaking for a quick smoke, you’re corralled into the medical tent. The small space remains just as solemn as the streets, if not for the groans of pain and cries of grief. Civilians and personnel alike, packed in close on rickety cots. The smell of blood, so potent it clings to the back of your throat, is what gets you. Churns away at your insides. Always has.

During times like these, you fucking hate your job.

The medic—Marcus, a close friend, a man who once saved you from a severed femoral artery—waves you over to a recently abandoned bed, the material stained a deep red. Not fresh, but not old, either, and you’re sure any leftover soaks into the butt of your muddy pants.

“Any updates?” you ask, because coping is easier when you don’t. When you stay calm, and professional, and routine.

“Heard talk from the CO’s. Think they’re bracing for a second attack.” His dark eyes cut sharp over the rim of his glasses. “But you didn’t hear it from me. Got it?”

He applies pressure to a jagged laceration on your arm, mutters something about stitches and gauze and the depletion of QuikClot.

But there's no need for any of that. Not when your blood freezes still inside your veins. “A second attack will wipe us out.”

A layer of gauze is wrapped around your half-torn pinky, bent at an angle just beneath the first knuckle, and blood saturates the fabric. If not for the elephant-sized potency of adrenaline coursing through your system, you’re sure you’d be on the floor right now. 

It needs surgery—hell, you’ll probably lose the finger altogether. If you aren’t already dead by morning.

“They’re trying to call for backup. A favor for a favor or some shit.” Your blood slicks up his fresh gloves, bright and glistening.

“From who?”

He leans back into his rickety chair and throws out both arms, almost clipping the hip of another medic passing by. “How the fuck would I know, Mouse?”

“‘Cause you eavesdrop like you’re being paid for it.” You attempt to wipe the itching blood from your cheek, but only succeed in smearing a fresh coat over the left half of your face. “God—listen, we’re all fucking stressed. No need to be an asshole.”

“That’s not…” He sighs out a long, exhausted breath, and that exhaustion rolls off him twelve hours thick. Reads clear in his pallor, in the state of his clothes, in the slump of his posture. You feel bad for him, for everybody stuck neck deep in the mud of this bullshit situation. Yourself included. “That’s not what I meant to say. But we’ve all watched our friends get ripped apart, so forgive me if my fuse is non-fucking-existent.”

You both begin to stare at each other as a group of soldiers file into the tent, a battle of wills keeping you glued in place. Marcus is fucked up over this, and so are you. It’s a stupid thing to get angry over, but tensions are high, and you’re fit to burst at the goddamn seams.

“Mouse.”

Just like that, you feel small again. Weak. And you would rather rip the rest of your finger off than turn around and face that voice. “Leon.”

He’s always professional enough to keep up appearances—use your call sign, subdue his voice and body language—but you know him inside and out. Every quirk of his tone. He’s angry, yes, but not at you.

Marcus cuts you a knowing glance, then gives a nod to the fuming man just over your shoulder. “Patched ‘em up best I could.”

“Not good enough, apparently.”

You turn to look at him then, his muscled form dressed all in black, arms crossed over his tactical vest. He glares a hole through Marcus’s forehead, expression severe, intimidating even by your standards.

“He did what he could, Leon.”

He catches your eye a moment, looks again with widened eyes, and his arms twitch open as if wishing to reach for you. To touch you.

Later, you mouth, and you witness a part of him die. Right inside this medical tent, surrounded by the aftermath of a city-wide apocalypse.

He wants to hold you, and you aren’t sure who he seeks to comfort most. You or him. Leon now, or Leon the rookie.

Marcus notices—the man notices everything unfortunately. He shoos you away, orders Leon to watch over you, to keep that finger intact. 

It’s probably lost anyway.

“I thought you quit,” Leon says, as you pull a crushed pack of cigarettes from one of the many pockets of your fatigues.

You stand outside the medical tent, and the headache-inducing smell doesn’t stop.

“Covers up the blood,” you say, lighting the end with a match. Half the tobacco’s fallen out and there’s a tear near the filter, but it produces smoke and that’s all you care about right now. “Not like I can smell any worse.”

You stink of death. A sickly sweet, metallic, rotting perfume that will take days to wash off, long after you’re home safe. The nightmares will come back. You’ll hate the color red for a while.

The blood mats your hair. Dirt packs under blunt-bitten fingernails. You’ve barely slept in two days.

You look like utter shit, near-death warmed over, and still—

Still, Leon dares to love you. He’s here, fresh off the bird. That’s proof enough. 

“You want to talk about it?” he asks, once the cigarette’s been half-smoked and your throat burns from something even worse than nicotine.

If you cry now, you won’t stop. You might drown in the wreckage, take everyone with you.

A better way to go than this, you suppose. 

“Don’t think I can right now.”

You crush the cigarette then, nothing but filter and ash, beneath the toe of your boot. Silently muse for a moment about littering, then look around to the plumes of smoke and the kicked-up dust and the wind-swept trash. The city will be flattened before the day’s end anyway, and you still have a few hours left to go.

The sun settles low in the sky, and the shift from yellow to bathing orange remains in infancy.

Two, maybe three at most.

“The second attack.” You look over at him with empty eyes, worn down and grieving. “They’re waiting for nightfall, aren’t they?”

He sighs, steps back to lean against the concrete wall. “It’s a hypothesis.”

“And you’re the back-up.”

“One of many.”

Leon… well, he isn’t a hopeful man these days. Years of counter-bio-terrorism will do that to you. But now, neck-deep in chaos, he looks hopeful. Maybe for your sake. Maybe for his own. But he looks hopeful, and you almost believe it, too.

“If I die—“

His posture stiffens, and he shakes his head. “We’re not doing this.”

“Leon. Just hear me out. Please.” When he gives nothing but a sigh in response, you continue. “If I die out there, and I don’t get to see you after this is done, you need to know that I love you. And that you deserve better than this.”

“Better than what?” His voice croaks out weak, and you understand how he felt back in the medical tent.

Need to hold him, feel his heartbeat, assure yourself that he’s alive and well and that all this is real. 

You deserve selfishness for once in your fucking life.

“Better than the DSO, and the violence, and all the hurt you’ve carried around since Raccoon City.”

He smiles soft at you, like a candlelight dinner, a late-night kiss, a shared bubble bath. An affection so potent that you almost damn propriety and embrace him right here on the bustling street.

“I’m glad you didn’t mention yourself.”

The smiles that stretches your lips is relieving. A power only he can possess, amusing you at a time like this. “God no. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Excuse me?”

“Had a really nice bottle of tequila one time…”

“Tequila doesn’t rub your back so you can fall asleep.”

“Hey, anything’s possible.”

You’re in the middle of a war zone, and he has you laughing. And you realize, just as you did all those years ago, that you love him. Would die for him. Would rather die with him—but not like this, not here, ever.

“What are our odds?”

As you join him against the wall, looking out at the rush of people—police, BSAA, civilians seeking refuge—he leans toward you, victim to the same magnetic pull that brought you together in the first place.

“Redfield’s on his way.”

It’s all he says, and you choke out a laugh. “Shit. In that case, this battle’s as good as won.”

“Have you seen him recently?”

“Not since Edonia.”

“You’re in for a surprise, then.”

The dread that nibbles on your skull makes you fidget, and the concrete wall is rough as sandpaper, spikes catching on your clothes. “I don't like surprises.”

“You’re in the wrong field, honey.”

“Was that an affectionate ‘honey’ or a sarcastic one?”

“I save the sarcasm for everybody else.”

You nudge at his arm, and he stares down at you. Eyes full of stars, constellations, galaxies. As if your presence crafts his universe. “How sweet of you.”

“Don’t tell anybody. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Evening turns to sunset turns to night. The streets lay still, a tense silence as you wait. And wait. And wait. All you can do is wait.

Your CO demoted you to a last-resort-only combatant. Bullshit, far as you're concerned. Your friends—good people, with families and lives and struggles of their own—left to rot, and you have no place to lay your anger.

Well. Their empty graves, maybe.

The second wave begins shortly after sundown, and with the city’s power grid all but destroyed, you see nothing but the flashing of bullets. The spray of incendiary. Creatures howl and soldiers fire off coded phrases on the comms.

Raven Team down. Six K.I.A. Requesting backup on East Second Street.

Another frequency.

Three B.O.W.s spotted. Ready to engage.

Another.

I got wounded civilians, two children. Need a medic ASAP.

You vomit right outside the safe house. An effect of broiling anxiety, that feeling of helplessness that made you leave the military and join the BSAA in the first place. You’ve always hated it, and it returns furious, feasting.

You’re sent back to the medical tent. Diagnosed with a concussion. Confined to a cot with a cloth over your eyes to fight an oncoming migraine, to block out the lamplight. Years of training, of war zone activity make it easy to drift off, despite the echo of gunshots and the explosions rocking the tent.

When you wake, daylight seeps through the cloth. The fighting has stopped. The room remains silent.

You right yourself, and the change of scenery leaves you disoriented. Not the medical tent, actually. Not the city at all. A hospital room, with blaring white walls and ringing phones and the beep of your heart monitor.

The blood pressure cuff expands around your arm, and everything hurts.

Movement from the corner of your eye, and you look over to find Leon with a clear, plastic cup in hand. Your head pounds. The light from the large windows blurs your vision.

He realizes before you do. Fetches a bedpan from the corner-room chair and places it in your lap. And you vomit out an empty stomach.

You hate throwing up. Hate the state of your body even more—nothing but ache and soreness and the simple act of moving feels like muscles ripped clean from bone.

“Am I dying?” you ask, once he’s laid you back in bed and cleansed your mouth with lukewarm water.

“Not this time.”

“Everything feels so bad.”

“You look even worse. And I don’t say that lightly.”

“I wanna go home.”

“You can handle staying a few more days.”

Beneath the darkness of your eyelids, you reach for him blindly. His comfort is what you need—a childlike desperation that leaves you in tears.

You blame it on the pain.

His hand cradles yours, moving wires to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand, just above the scrape of skinless knuckles.

“Doc said you’ll be just fine. Just gotta get that fever to go away.”

“Fever?”

“B.O.W. blood can do a number on you.”

“Am I infected?”

“You have an infection, but the tests came back clear.” When your eyes blink open to look at him, he grins. Swipes a thumb beneath your eyes. “No superpowers for you, I’m afraid.”

You lean into his touch, the odd chill of his skin, and sigh out a long breath. “When we get home, can we order pizza?”

“Pizza. That’s what you’re craving?” said unimpressed, almost monotone.

“No. The good pizza from that family business near the house. Ya know, the one where the kids are always counting the money in the cash register.”

“Papa’s Pies?”

“Yeah. That one.”

He exhales a warm laugh, and his eyelids lower as he gazes upon you. Crafting galaxies. “Pizza it is, then.”

Leon stays true to his word. As soon as you arrive home and your appetite returns, you sit down to a meal of grand proportions. Most of it looks like leftovers to you. Not that you’re complaining.

You’ve been reduced to nine fingers, and the surgeon says the nerve damage to your arm is permanent, and you require frequent rest for the next month, but you’re alive. Leon’s unharmed. The good guys won. 

You should be happy. Right?

“Something’s wrong,” he says. Knows you well. Well enough that privacy and emotions cease to coexist.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

You push away from the table, and your chair skids against the floor. “Everything that’s happened.”

“Can’t say I blame you. Wanna talk about it?”

You appreciate the offer, and he means well, but the wounds have barely healed and squeezed lemon sounds horrifically painful right now.

“I think I’ll take a rain check.”

He nods because he understands. Has been there before, time and time and time again. Maybe that’s why you feel so comfortable baring your hurts, flaying yourself open to expose all the decay.

You share in the nightmares, and the toxic coping, and the panic attacks. You supported him when he quit drinking. He stopped you when you craved to cut teeth on broken skin.

Where else would you be without him?

Dead, probably.

You stand up from your chair and collect your plate. “I’m gonna go take a bath or something. I need to relax.”

“What, no invite?”

“Oh, you’re very welcome to join me. Just thought you had calls to return.”

“Calls can wait.” He stands as well. Begins cleaning up the table. “Go ahead and start the water. I’ll be there in a minute.” You walk toward the sink, fully prepared to sort out dishes, but he stops you with a, “Leave it.”

You spin around to face him, and he raises his eyebrows at you. Daring, a pre-threat stare. “I can still do things, you know.”

“And I’m giving you an out. Take it.”

You set the plate on the counter and raise your hands in jesting surrender. Back away toward the bathroom. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t push it, Leon,” you call, rounding the corner into the hallway.

He laughs, a heart-swelling sound muffled by the bathroom wall.

If this is what the rest of your life could be, domesticity and love and rest, then surviving would be worth it.

The water scalds your skin as you sink beneath flower-scented bubbles. He keeps lavender stocked for situations just like this, a routine borne from some off-handed comment that the smell aids you in relaxation.

He strolls in some time later, already bare from the waist up. Takes a moment to shirk pants and underwear, then joins you beneath the steaming water.

If you felt well enough, you’d be jumping his bones right about now.

He complains immediately. Hisses a breath through his teeth. “Are you trying to melt your skin off?”

“I was hoping it would undo the nerve damage,” you grumble, scooting back to allow him room. The porcelain cools your upper back, makes the hair on your nape stand on end.

“That—what?” He tugs your legs over his hip, pins you with a furrow-browed stare.

“I don’t even know. Let’s just blame it on the concussion.”

Everything still blurs at the edges. Memory, thought itself. As if you never woke from that sleep. Sometimes, you question if you even did. 

You’re just so tired.

He massages a palm over your shin, pauses each time the flesh puckers into a raised line. The deep ones still remain—knife wounds, gunshots, claw marks. When you were younger, some mid-twenties optimist with your whole life ahead of you, the idea of permanence terrified you. A symbol of death, in your eyes. Death of happiness, death of freedom, death of beauty.

Look at you now. Married, twenty years deep into a hellish career, scarred from head to toe.

It doesn’t seem so terrifying now. Just a matter of life. A law of juxtaposition.

He kisses the curve of your knee, just below the jagged edges of an old burn. Your scars don’t scare him, either.

“We should go somewhere warm. Lay low for a while,” you say, hand resting on the knee he bent to fit inside the bath.

“Think that’s a good idea?”

“Have any of my ideas been good?”

He pauses to think, eyes roaming over floor tile. “The pizza. I think that’s it, though.” He heaves out a laugh when you kick him soft in the side, and a wave of water sloshes onto his chest.

“Seriously, though. We should take a vacation. Maybe we can drag Redfield along.”

His smile fades. “You wanna bring Redfield.”

“If anybody deserves a break, it’s him.”

“He can take his own vacation.” He moves your legs aside, hovers over you on his knees, braces a hand atop the lip of the tub. “Besides, I was hoping for some alone time.”

His brows raise in a silent suggestion. One you’re much too keen to follow through with.

You pull him into a kiss, tender and slow and lazy. A hand curls over his shoulder blade. You missed this. Him. The warmth, and the butterflies, and the comfort of his skin.

His knee slips against the slick bottom of the tub, and you hold him upright with a grip to each of his shoulders. Water sloshes over the side, puddles up on the floor, and you both stare at each other. Snort back a shocked laugh.

Bath over, you suppose.

“Well,” you say. “I think we have a few bags to pack.”

[amxranthiine]

imagine being the ex-friend of the slytherin crew. [she/her] (no voldy bc ew)

had this thought at 3am last night while fangirling with my friend last night. sorry for any errors <3

angst, mentions of parents disowning child, blood prejudice, mention of childhood/forbidden crush

- [ ] you had known draco, blaise, theo, pansy, astoria and daphne since you were very young.

- [ ] since you all were two to be exact. your parents were close and your birthdays weren't too far apart, so it was only natural that you all became a crew growing up, anxiously waiting for your eleventh birthdays.

- [ ] you all were inseparable. you learned to fly together, talk together, walk together... hell, you had all learned you were wizards together.

- [ ] you were always closer to blaise than the rest of the crew. you were younger than him, though not by much, and he seemed protective over you. as inseparable the rest of you were, blaise couldn't go anywhere without you, and the same goes for you to him.

- [ ] how ecstatic you were when you all got your hogwarts letters! you were going to be in the same year and hopefully, probably, the same house!

- [ ] it was expected of you all to be in slytherin, all coming from very long lines of prestigious pureblood serpents.

- [ ] the other six were more than confident that they would all be in slytherin together. you? not so much.

- [ ] you were very nervous, to say the least. you didn't portray the slytherin traits as much as the others.

- [ ] and when pansy or blaise would try to reassure you that it would be fine, you couldn't help but wonder if they were trying to convince you or themselves.

- [ ] and because you didn't portray the serpent traits, that made them all extremely protective of you. blaise especially, draco and theo coming close in second, and the girls just wanted to make sure you were okay.

- [ ] but the moment the sorting hat yelled out a name that wasn't slytherin, everything stopped.

- [ ] your friendships with your lifelong friends, your crush on blaise (okay, that didn't go away), everything you grew up with just... disappeared.

- [ ] your now ex-friends wanted nothing to do with you, even your parents didn't want to speak to you. your housemates were cruel, jesting about how you were a stain on their house, and a snake deep down.

- [ ] it was safe to say you had no one.

- [ ] the crew started being mean to you somewhere around christmas of first year. before then, they had just ignored you. just like everyone else.

- [ ] after christmas though... they seemed to have a new hatred for you.

- [ ] especially blaise, which hurt the most. you swore you were seeing things when you thought you saw sadness somewhere in his eyes whenever he was rude to you.

- [ ] you were alone for the remainder of first year, and for the first two months of second.

- [ ] that's when you met luna, neville and ginny. you guys were thick as thieves, and for the first time for two years, you were actually happy.

- [ ] of course, your childhood friends were still mean to you, nothing had really changed on that part. but you were... happier, and that hurt them. because you happier without them, and that wasn't how it was supposed to be.

- [ ] they supposed they should be glad that you were doing better. last year, they were going mad out of worry for you. apparently you had stayed at hogwarts for christmas out of request from your parents, and it was christmas day when the adults told the rest of them to stop associating with you.

- [ ] it remained fairly passive over the next few years, you remained close with luna, neville and ginny, and had even befriended the golden trio and the twins!

- [ ] the serpent squad didn't like that too much, but they supposed your current friends were better than no friends, and as long as you were happy, they were happy

- [ ] but they still continue their kind-of bullying. they weren't as cruel to you as they were to others, but words still hurt and boy do they have a snake's tongue on them.

- [ ] blaise could hardly stand being away from you but his mother had made him swear that he would not associate with you, the blood traitor.

- [ ] all he wanted to do was hold you, but he rather bullied you instead.

- [ ] it was the beginning of sixth year when draco and pansy had gone too far. the other four were just watching blankly, trying not to let their discomfort show as the two reprimanded you, mocked you, and insulted you in the middle of the great hall. calling you a blood traitor, a stain of your family name and house name, and even going as far as saying "no wonder your parents don't want you, just look at you!" while the all the slytherins around them laughed. or at least, pretended to.

- [ ] you had looked at them for a long time, teary eyed and red faced, just trying to understand what you did to deserve this. until you nodded your head, said "okay," and walked out of the great hall.

- [ ] they heard your friends call your name, your closest ones even running after you.

- [ ] theo and blaise looked like they were about to beat draco to death, astoria and daphne were just disappointed in pansy, they knew how much she missed you, and yet she ruined any chance of you forgiving them.

- [ ] blaise eventually decided against killing the blonde and ran after you, the rest following suit after a moment.

- [ ] it didn't take them long to find you, sobbing against a wall with your head in your hands, ginny, nev and luna all crowded around you. rubbing your back and whispering reassurances in your ear.

- [ ] "i don't know what i did to deserve that," you cried, sniffling as you wiped your nose on your sleeve and looked and ginny.

- [ ] "oh love, you didn't do anything," the ginger said, wrapping her arms around you.

- [ ] "don't listen to them, y/n! they're just prats!" assured nev, leaning against the wall awkwardly, with one hand on your back.

- [ ] luna played with your hair, "yeah, y/n, they don't deserve your love and kindness."

- [ ] "thank you guys. i mean it. without you three i don't know where i would be." you laughed, but no part of it was humorous.

- [ ] draco, being the blonde he was, decided it was a good time to intervene, "hopefully alive, haha."

- [ ] the six of them had come out from around the corner, feeling ashamed and wanting to hit themselves for making you cry.

- [ ] "what do you lot wanf? haven't you done enough?" asked ginny, placing herself in front of you.

- [ ] "yes but.."

- [ ] "no, you don't get to talk. now piss off before you do even more damage."

- [ ] "we just want to apologize," said blaise.

- [ ] you scoffed, "a bit late for that."

- [ ] pansy looked down, "we're really sorry, y/n, for what just happened and for everything the past six years. you know how our families are and they told us to stop talking to you... so we did."

- [ ] all feelings of sadness were gone now, pansy's words has ignited a flame within you, one you've been holding in for years.

- [ ] "stop talking to me? so that gave you permission to be bloody awful to me? merlin's beard, you six were worse than umbridge on her bad days! you could have just... i don't know, explained what happened in first year? and apologized for abandoning me? and maybe we could still be friends! but no, you lot ruined any chance of that ever happening again. so thank you for that." you paused to take a breath. your audience was wide eyed and shocked, not quite believing you had such anger in you... but oh man, you weren't done yet.

- [ ] "and let me just say, blaise, your insults hurt the most. merlin, i thought the world of you. i thought you were my everything. but that all just went away the moment you thought not associating with me, meant making my life a living hell."

- [ ] you were, once again, crying. you took a deep breath and sadness took over you once again, you mumbled an "excuse me" and took off down the corrider.

- [ ] the serpent squad was stunned. they hadn't realised what they did effected you that much. blaise was upset with himself, disappointed, even. he felt the same about you, even if you both were too young for it to be love, and now he knew he never get it pack.

- [ ] theo cleared his throat and tried looking anywhere but at the trio in front of them, who were looking at the six with anger and disappointment.

- [ ] "you guys couldn't even begin to understand what she's been through," neville said after moments of awkward silence. "not long after the sorting ceremory, her parents sent her a letter, practically disowning her. before that, you guys abandoned her. she was alone for nearly a year and a half before we met her. and by merlin she was a wreck."

- [ ] ginny and luna chuckled, not out of humor, but out of irony. this situation was similar to the situation you were in when you met them.

- [ ] neville ignored them, and the curious stares the six were giving him, and continued, this time fueled by anger.

- [ ] "we were the ones who picked up the pieces. we were the ones who made sure she didn't die after losing everything she had ever known. we were the ones who made her smile again, happy again. we picked up the pieces because you weren't there, and you were exactly what had caused it in the first place." neville spit out the last sentence as if it were venom, hoping to hurt them as much as they hurt you.

- [ ] they were all on the verge of tears, daphne and astoria were holding each other and looked to be in the most pain, because they missed you the most.

- [ ] "i hope you lot are happy with yourselves, you're about five years to late to the pity party."