#they're not as dark as they were during the war for sure. a dark grey lol.

[iconac]

i think it's funny that revan's fandom popularity is often due to swtor/novel revan being able to channel the light and dark sides of the force simultaneously, like that's the bit that makes him stand out, and i just. do not talk about it at all. ill write a hc thing about it eventually. but yes revan can use abilities that are traditionally attributed to either being light or dark in the force. after recovering the bulk of their memories, their presence reads on the dark side more often than not. their duality channeling thing is not something they advertise

[anachilles]

Hi! Could I request “You’re cold. Come here.” with buck and bucky??

you certainly can! hope you liiiiike ✨ -> prompt lists i'm currently accepting requests from: [ x ] [ x ] <-

Whiskey burns hot and foreign on Gale's tongue, at the back of his throat and all the way down, and he does his best not to let his expression twist.

It's the first night of what's been promised to be a long and lasting freedom.

He can't explain why he chooses to imbibe then, after years of easily held, steadfast sobriety, only hesitating for half a beat while glancing at John's arm and the proffered hip flask before taking it from him. The war's over. They're going home. It's as good a time as any, right?

The base is alight, not only with the leftover, now useless, flares the ground crews are appropriating for fireworks out on the tarmac, but also with drunken laughter filtering through the music the air seemed to be filled with. It's alight with joy. With optimism they'd been bottling up for months, maybe years, even, but daren't let take root and risk blinding them. All covering up a bone-deep, underlying sadness that dare not speak its name, not now.

They'd let themselves have tonight, at the very least, to celebrate each other and all that had made it before toasting and honouring the memory of those that hadn't.

Sitting here, alone with John on the balcony of the Tower, overlooking the entire airfield, it's hard not to feel an affection for it. During those twenty-odd missions they'd ran, from a birds-eye view, it had come to mean safety in the knowledge that they were in the homestretch. That they could scratch of another one and allow themselves the luxury of considering they could be making it out of this thing alive.

Passing the flask back to John, Gale watches his face carefully, pensive and unnaturally subdued as it seemed to be. He worries that John's missing out on the party on his account, choosing instead to follow Gale out into the night rather than stay back with the men and celebrate properly. He'd tried to insist that John stay, after Gale and he went and put in a bit of lip service having a couple of drinks with what was left of the crew towards the start of proceedings, but when Gale made a move to leave, he was quick on his heels behind him.

It wasn't that Gale is sad exactly, the brusque, three letter word painting a much too broad a stroke over the nuanced complication of what he was feeling. Too nuanced to work through in all that menagerie on the ground, or in the club, at least.

There's quiet understanding in how John catches him looking then, intercepting the stolen, too-long glance, and offering Gale a twitch of a telling smile in return.

Some time later, they find themselves wandering into the depths of the moon-drenched woods, the music and lights and voices of the base growing more and more muffled as they left it further and further behind them.

He's not sure what makes John stop, a handful of steps behind him, but when he notices the absence of his footfall snapping twigs and bracken underfoot, Gale pauses. The brief silence is loaded; any type of silence from John likely means something. Under the shroud of darkness all his senses heightened, on-guard and alert. Unmoving, he focuses his eyes and tries scanning around him. He can't even hear the sound of John's breathing to use as a guide.

"Is this a game?" he asks out into the emptiness, anticipatory, his breath slightly shallower as, stupidly, his heart starts to race despite knowing he's in no danger here. The worst you're going to get in an English wood is a grey squirrel, for God's sake. "What're we playin'?"

He's unsure whether he wants to smile or not.

After an extended few seconds, as if from out of nowhere, there's a breath against the back of Gale's neck, exactly nailed on that secret little spot nobody on earth but one person knows about. A pair of lips meet the full-body shiver that races up his spine with the shock of it, and are quickly displaced from their perch as Gale swivels around.

When he sees John's face in front of him once more, his eyes are suddenly heavy with the weight of something unspeakable, his smirk devilish in the shadows of the moonlight, totally unapologetic, even more so when he clocks the sudden flush that had risen to Gale's cheeks.

His heart is racing, he's blushing, but even still Gale simply raises an indignant, demanding eyebrow. Challenging. All the while his gaze tries for scrutiny, but inevitably trips up every time it stops to linger on John's mouth.

Maybe Gale, maybe they both, truly needed to get away from the commotion of the party. Maybe one followed the other on blind trust and a general, innocent desire for only each other's company. Maybe they both wordlessly understood exactly what they were following each other into the woods for, this night of all nights.

John lets out a breath and steps up closer into Gale's space, his lips lowering so that they were hovering teasingly close to the other man's own, but not touching. Gale doesn't move, digs in his heels and doesn't even flinch, posture rigid with control as he let his own breath ghost out against John's lips.

John breaks the deadlock look they mutually hold, his eyes flitting down to Gale's neck and his hand rises to follow, fingertips tracing the trail of goosebumps visible.

He smiles knowingly, bringing his hand away and slipping it into the delicate curve of Gale's waist, gesturing down towards the evidence of his past efforts.

“Ah, look. See, you’re cold, aren't you? Come here...”

[thegayhimbo]

Stranger Things Kamchatka Review (and my thoughts on the Russian arc as a whole)

Warning: The following review contains MAJOR SPOILERS from the comic, as well as season 4 of Stranger Things!

If you haven't yet, be sure to check out my other Stranger Things Reviews:

Stranger Things Six

Stranger Things Halloween Special

Stranger Things The Other Side

Stranger Things Zombie Boys

Stranger Things The Bully

Stranger Things Winter Special

Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen

Stranger Things Into The Fire

Stranger Things Science Camp

Stranger Things "The Game Master" and "Erica's Quest"

Stranger Things and Dungeons and Dragons

Synopsis: In dark wintry Russia, Soviet scientists and military personnel oversee a new weapon they hope to use in their Cold War against the United States: A Demogorgon. To this end, they have enlisted the help of Dr. Boris Orlov to give them a device that will allow the monster to maintain its full strength. However, when Orlov refuses them and hides the device, he is taken prisoner to Kamchatka where the Demogorgon is being held. Now, with the help of an ex-KGB agent named Mr. Frost, it's up to Orlov's children, Anna and Lenoid, to save their father and prevent the device from falling into the Kremlin's hands......

Observations:

This is going to be a different review from what I usually do. The first part of this will discuss the comic itself and its merits/flaws, whereas the second will give more details about my thoughts concerning the Russian arc from seasons 3-4 and its placement on the show.

Part 1: The Comic

There are two ways I judge this comic: As an individual story, and how it ties into the Stranger Things universe.

In regards to the former, the comic works well as a thrilling Cold War spy narrative. It's fast-paced, the fight and chase scenes are intense, and it manages to capture the paranoia of living in the Soviet Union during a time when your words and actions were monitored and there was the constant threat of the KGB coming to arrest you for being a traitor to the motherland.

The artwork is impressive. From the white and grey hues depicting the bleak endless winters of Russia, to the ominous red and orange lighting of the prison, this comic does a great job with its dark colors and use of shadows to creepy effect:

On top of that, this is arguably one of the most violent comics in the series, which is saying something given the show it's based on. They do not shy away from depicting graphic scenes here:

The way the Demogorgon attacks its prey reminds me of the viciousness the Xenomorphs from the Alien series displayed towards their victims. Given how 80s movies like Aliens served as inspiration for Stranger Things and for the design of the Demogorgon in the first place, this was likely a subtle nod to that. The comic writers and artists know how to utilize the Demogorgon for all its scariness and brutality. Considering the same people for this comic have written another story (The Voyage) featuring the Demogorgon stalking and killing the crew of a freighter ship (which sounds similar to the plot of the first Alien movie), they're planning on milking the monster for all it's worth.

There are two main antagonists besides the Demogorgon: The first is Ivan Kolochev, who comes across like Darth Vader if he was a Russian KGB agent. He's the one who hunts the kids in order to get their father's device, and it's revealed he was the former protégé of Mr. Frost during the time they both served the Kremlin. Ivan later turned on Frost for becoming soft in his eyes, which forced Frost to go into hiding and abandon his wife and daughter for their own safety:

The second antagonist is Dr. Karine. She's the one overseeing the Demogorgon at Kamchatka, and was revealed to have worked under Alexei and General Stepanov when they first tried (and failed) to open the gate to the Upside Down on June 28th, 1984. She was one of the survivors from the blast, and later discovered a pollywog that she nursed into adulthood:

Best way I know how to describe her is she's similar to Dr. Irina Spalko from Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull in their ruthlessness, their desire to advance the Soviet Union's cause, and their fascination with abnormal branches of science. They even look physically similar in some respects:

In terms of the main characters, Mr. Frost was the interesting one. A man who ran from the KGB for 15 years and was skilled enough to survive and help two kids who were out of their depth. The story behind him abandoning his family for their safety was sad, and his reunion with daughter later on is heartwearming:

My only criticism of Frost is I wish they'd gone more in depth about his mindset. He tells the kids at the beginning of the comic he's disillusioned with what his country has become, and flashbacks show him becoming lenient in his interrogations, which gets him in trouble with the Kremlin. However, they never elaborated on how he got to that point. They never clarify if he began developing empathy for the Americans who were being tortured by the KGB, if he became tired from years of interrogating prisoners, if he began to fear he was turning Ivan into a monster by taking him in as a pupil, or if something else happened that made him re-evaluate his beliefs.

There's also his relationship/rivalry with Ivan. From the way Frost tells it, he raised Ivan like a son when he found him on the streets and took him in, only to later be betrayed by Ivan because he would "take the Americans side" whenever Ivan tortured prisoners. At the end of the comic though, Ivan accuses Frost of caring more about the rules and the state than about him, suggesting he felt Frost personally betrayed him.

Maybe it was intentionally written to be vague and let the audience decide who was more at fault for Ivan's descent into sadism, but considering we don't get many scenes showing what Ivan and Frost's relationship was like before they fell out with one another, it comes off like an aspect of the story (and Frost's character) that wasn't properly fleshed-out.

As for the kids and Dr. Orlov, they're pretty flat as characters. Anna and Lenoid have scenes showing they care for one another, but they don't really have personalities beyond them trying to find their father. Same for Dr. Orlov: Aside from one moment where he briefly delays Dr. Karine's plans by screwing over another scientist, he's basically a Damsel in Distress (or in this case, a Dude in Distress) waiting to be rescued. There isn't a lot to these characters that's engaging.

And this brings me to the crux of the problem I have with this comic: Setting it in the Stranger Things universe.

If this was just an individual Cold War thriller taking place in Russia, that would be one thing. In fact, I argue this comic works better if it isn't tied to Stranger Things. Just tweak a few plot details, change the Demogorgon to a different monster, and you have an original and unique story. By trying to shove it into the Stranger Things narrative, it creates a whole host of issues.

For one thing, it's highly unlikely Dr. Orlov or Anna and Lenoid are going to make a canonical appearance on the show. Because of that, it's hard to get invested in them or their story, and it doesn't help that the two characters who were interesting (Frost and Ivan) die at the end of the comic. There's maybe the possibility of Dr. Karine showing up in season 5, but since she made no appearance in season 4 during the Kamchatka arc, I seriously doubt that.

I've said this before, but I'm tired of them focusing on characters who either aren't important to the main plot, or aren't canonically part of the show. I'm not opposed to them doing a comic set in Russia, but it should help enhance the ongoing story and characters from the show instead of being a pointless side detour with Easter Eggs sprinkled in.

Take Hopper for instance: He spent 8 months imprisoned at Kamchatka prior to season 4. Why not write a story that focuses on his time there and how he learned to survive the harsh conditions of the prison and his torture by the Russians? Why not give more details about how he met Enzo/Dmitri, how they came to trust each other, and how they formed their initial plan for Hopper to escape?

For that matter, why not have a comic focused on Enzo/Dmitri? They could go more into detail about his life as a prison guard at Kamchatka, his relationship with his son, and so on.

Same with Yuri. I don't particularly like his character, but he at least was relevant to the show, and has a backstory as the "Peanut Butter Smuggler" that's ripe with potential.

They did this with Will and Bob in Tomb of Ybwen, and they did this with Dustin and Suzie in Science Camp, so I don't see why they couldn't have done that for either Hopper, Enzo, or Yuri.

Then there's the plot involving the McGuffin: A device created by Dr. Orlov that amplifies telekinetic abilities which Dr. Karine wants to keep the Demogorgon alive. Long story short: The Demogorgon is slowly dying because it can't live in our world and needs to be connected to its source (the hive mind) which the device allows it to do.

Now maybe I'm remember this wrong from the show (and feel free to correct me in the comment section if that's the case), but my understanding was that Demogorgons, Demodogs, and anything infected by the Mind Flayer (which was revealed to be controlled by Vecna) would cease living if the gate closed. There was a whole deal made in season 2 about getting the Mind Flayer particles out of Will before El shut the gate at Hawkins Lab because he would die otherwise.

However, when it comes to the Soviet's Demogorgon, I was under the impression it wasn't infected by the Mind Flayer, which is why it was still alive once the Russian Gate closed in season 3.

Same thing for the Demodog on the operating table that was being vivisected: My impression was it didn't have the Mind Flayer particles in it either, which is why it was active before Hopper shot it.

All of this makes the telekinetic device used to keep the Demogorgon alive look like a major plot-hole. The Soviet Demogorgon is never seen wearing the device once on the show, even though the comic puts a major emphasis on needing to wear it to survive.

It seems like an unnecessary element to the mythology given the show didn't bother to include it, and it's one I don't care for.

(Side Note: This is a question that's bothered me for a while now, but was the Hive Mind already a part of the Upside Down before Vecna arrived there, and he simply hijacked it when he used the black particles to create the Mind Flayer? Or did Vecna create the Hive Mind by forming the Mind Flayer and using that to infect almost every living being in the Upside Down and link their minds to his?)

Overall, my feelings about this comic are mixed. Some aspects like the artwork, the tone, and the Cold War setting work well, but the characters aren't memorable and the attempts to link the story to the Stranger Things Universe is handled in a clumsy way.

Part 2: The Russian Arc

When it comes to the Russian Arc in seasons 3-4. I know the general consensus has been fans questioning the point of it, with feelings ranging from indifference to outright negativity. In many ways, I get it. Out of all the directions they could have gone with the main story, this is not one I expected them to go either, and I'm still wondering whether there's a future payoff coming that will make it all worth it.

That being said, I don't hate this arc like some people do, and I even know a few people who like it. My dad for instance, who grew up in the 50s and 60s during the height of Cold War paranoia and the fear of Russians infiltrating the United States, thought the show did a good job recapturing those feelings and memories. He also liked how the show emphasized how the danger of the Upside Down wasn't just limited to Hawkins, and that it was important to show Vecna as a threat worldwide. I can see his perspective, and it has made me reevalute some aspects of the arc again, but my feelings still remain mixed at best.

I know when Season 3 came out in 2019, there was a podcast with the Duffer Brothers and producer Shawn Levy giving details about their reasoning for introducing the Russians:

Shawn Levy: “We’ve seen the Americans and now the Soviets trying to harness the power that seems to reside in the Upside Down through that gate. We’ve seen both sides of the Cold War now try to tap into it and control it in order to weaponize it so it felt like a really compelling way to take a real-world fear, an actual authentic historical paranoia, and to mix it with a very specific sci-fi genre plot that is unique to Stranger Things.”

Matt Duffer: “We always struggled a little bit with the U.S. government as the bad guys because there’s only so many times you can punch and/or kill U.S. government or military personal before you get locked away in America. So in a sense, they [The Russians] were an easier human villain because we could do a lot more with them.”

On paper, the writers wanting to explore themes relating to the Cold War and delve more into the paranoia surrounding the Red Scare wasn't a bad idea on its own. The way it was executed on the show, however, left a lot to be desired.

I'm not a fan of how the Russians were depicted in season 3. Not only did they come off as cartoonish buffoons and stereotypes, but they weren't threatening as antagonists. I never got the sense of menace or the intimidating presence I felt when Dr. Brenner or Colonel Sullivan's men showed up looking for El and anyone associated with her. And compared to villains like Dr. Brenner and Vecna, who evoked feelings of fear and revulsion, I felt no similar emotions for the Russians because I had a hard time taking them seriously. My suspension of disbelief breaks whenever I think too hard about how they were able to build their underground base at Starcourt Mall in less than a year. They were portrayed in such a bumbling manner that I didn't buy it.

Even Alexei is a character I'm not a fan of. There was always something irksome to me about the show portraying him in a childlike, naive manner in spite of the fact he knowingly opened a portal to a different dimension to capture monsters to use as weapons, which ended up getting a bunch of people killed in the process. The ONLY thing I liked about this arc was the formation of the Scoops Troop and the interactions between Steve, Dustin, Erica, and Robin.

Season 4 is different: Part of this may be due to a different perspective considering this season came out 3 months after the real life Russian Invasion of Ukraine, but the Russians were creepy compared to the previous season. There was a sadistic, cruel inhumanity to the way they acted that made them menacing. The vicious torture of Hopper. The pit where prisoners were fed to the Demogorgon and the whole thing being treated for sport by the guards. The lack of any basic human rights for the prisoners at Kamchatka. Even the vivisection of the still-alive demodog was horrifying. There was a brutality from the Russians that was chilling to watch, and it made them more insidious than before.

I liked the Russian arc in season 4 better than season 3. I enjoyed Enzo/Dmitri's character and loved the friendship that developed between him and Hopper. I liked seeing Hopper's character development where he became more level-headed and introspective compared to how impulsive and hot-headed he was in season 3. I enjoyed the break-in to the prison and how reminiscent it was of video games like the Resident Evil and Outlast series in tone, setting, and sense of danger. I also loved both fights between Hopper and the Demogorgon, despite how corny some people claim they were.

Just because something has flaws doesn't mean it can't have good elements to it as well. Compared to controversial arcs from other TV shows, this one had enjoyable moments, and it's not one I mind rewatching again.

I acknowledge that all of this is my personal opinion, and I don't speak for everyone in regards to how they feel about the Russian arc.

I also recognize there are still questions that need to be answered for season 5. Like how the Russians found out about the Upside Down in the first place: Was there a mole at Hawkins Lab that Dr. Brenner was unaware of, or did they discover it through other means? How did they get that piece of the Mind Flayer into the glass case without getting infected by it? Is Kamchatka the only facility that houses monsters from the Upside Down, or are there others? Do the Russians know about Vecna? What happened to Enzo and Yuri, and are they coming back? Will the Russians return to Hawkins to exact revenge for the destruction of their facility at Kamchatka, or to try and capture more monsters from the Upside Down?

In spite of these questions, I am willing to give the Duffer Brothers the benefit of the doubt in believing they will tie this together. As I've said before, I'm still looking forward to season 5! :)

[freddie-77-ao3]

Artbreeders of some of the pjo characters

Lou Ellen Blackstone-- I tried to get green eyes in, but didn't quite manage.

Breakdown:

red hair is the result of an experiment gone wrong with Connor Stoll. One of Alabaster Torrington's old potions exploded while they were cleaning the cabin out.

green eyes: all hecate children have green eyes. Also some legacies.

Annabeth Chase

blonde hair: i feel like Athena's kids' hair depends entirely on their relationship with their mother. the better the relationship, the brighter and more golden your hair is, so this is annabeth when she's ten or so and basically running the cabin.

blue-gray eyes: if athena has a child with a mortal with NO preexisting ties to a god, the child gets fully gray eyes. however, say athena has a child with a child of hecate-- the child will have gray-green eyes. for annabeth, her family's eyes are all pretty blue because of their ties to the norse gods. so she gets blue-grey eyes.

Drew Tanaka (as a child)

Drew Tanaka as a child (again)

Drew Tanaka (as child)

Drew Tanaka (post Titan War)

Drew Tanaka (when Piper first sees her)

so. Drew. My lovely blorbo. Anyway, my backstory for Drew is entirely too convoluted, and I don't have her teen form corrected quite yet but:

changing hair: drew's a shapeshifter! or at least, to an extent. She isn't Frank, so no animals, but she can change hair colour/length, eye colour, skin colour, etc. at will. When she was a child (we're going to split this into three sections) there's pre-mother's death, pre-ethan's death, and post ethan's death.

before her mother's death, Drew's hair was blue-- she loved the color! it made her happy, and she was so often happy that her hair was always blue.

before Ethan Nakamura's supposed death (using my backstory of them being stepsiblings-- mortal mother's got together-- and Ethan went on Luke's quest but after the third quester, Allegra, died, Ethan and Luke both began hearing Kronos, and by the end of the quest, Ethan had gone off to serve from the background and Luke faked his death), Drew's hair was at it's natural dark brown color. She was sad, sure, but she still had Ethan, so she was doing alright.

Post his death however, Drew was depressed, hardcore, and her hair mirrored that, jet black. It stays that way way past the battle of manhattan.

post titan war Drew has no clue how to cope because she's... 13-14, so her entire coping mechanism is substance abuse (alcoholism) and starving herself so she's very skinny and not healthy at all, gaunt, too pale because she doesn't see the sun.

eye wise, she has constantly changing eyes like Piper, but if she's unconcious, they're sea green. Her mother was a daughter of poseidon.

Grover Underwood during the lightning thief.

I think Grover straight up just looks like that. He doesn't stand out in a crowd or anything, he just looks more childish than most other satyrs for reasons?

anyway, his hair is too short to be super curly, but it is when it grows longer

Piper McLean as a kid.

Piper really embraces her beauty until her father makes it big and she starts getting sexualised by the media, which is when we meet her in TLH.

her eyes are constantly changing, and her hair is brown.

Annabeth Chase post BoO.

After the mark of Athena, I think Annabeth really broke off any semblance of a relationship with her mom-- so her hair's bleached, her eyes are leached of gray-- she's a shell, basically, because she hasn't dealt with her trauma yet. She's all sharp edges.

Will Solace as a child

Like Athena's children, Apollo kids get more saturated the closer they are to their father, and Will is probably Apollo's favourite. Of the year rounding boys at camp post Luke leaving (SoM-BotL), there's only Michael, Lee, and Will, and Michael is-- well, Michael, and Lee never actually broke up with Luke Castellan, so. Yeah, Will's the favourite.

bright blue eyes, and sunny golden hair, children of apollo are usually pretty tan.

also, will's always been pretty tall. By the time he's 13 in BotL, he's 5'9. The happier apollo's kids are, the taller they grow-- when Lee died, he was 6'3, but Michael was always pretty bitter, so he was about 4'9.

Katie Gardner age 12

Chris Rodriguez- post BoO

[sergeantgoggles]

Title: Magentic Ship: Huntech [Hunter/Tech] Rated: Explicit Summary: The beat of the music at 79s thrums like the beat of Hunter's heart, and the one banging the drum is none other than the man holding his heart in the first place. They're drawn to each other like magnets in the crowd. Warnings: NSFW, Nightclub, Grinding, Dry Humping, Public Sex, Bathroom Sex, Implied Crosshair/Mayday, Implied Bly/Keeli, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Cumming, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Top/Bottom Switch Dynamic, Alcohol, Drunk and Horny Word Count: 2400

For @eelfuneral

One shot. Two, three, four, fi…?

Hunter had lost count of how many tiny glasses of dune agave had slid smoothly down his throat, but it was enough to make his mind pleasantly fuzzy, and with nowhere to be tomorrow, he was going to take full advantage of the situation he found himself in. It wasn’t often that Clone Force 99 found themselves in a position to take some time off. They were special ops, used to save the skins of other battalions that were in over their heads. As luck would have it, however, they found themselves on Coruscant on a busy night where several squads have the whole night ahead of them. What better way to spend a night than forgetting about the war and getting lost in something else entirely?

He'd lost track of Wrecker and Crosshair some time ago, but he imagined they were chatting up some of the boys in sunshine gold from the 212th. Hunter himself found himself catching up with Captain Grey, but his eyes kept falling back to someone else across the bar. A lopsided grin turned his lips up as he watched his second-in-command. Tech wasn’t the type anyone would expect to be killer on the dancefloor, especially since most regs were too stiff to dance, but any way that he was able to express himself without words was easy for him, like coming into a second skin.

So, Hunter watched, and Hunter wanted. His eyes followed Tech’s hips as they hit every beat, swayed to the vibrating rhythm, rolled with the thick twi’lek accent from the bass heavy song that was booming through the speakers. It would normally bother Hunter and make his skin itch, but seven…eight…shots of dune agave was making it hard for him to feel anything but the desire to get his hands on those hips.

“Helloooo? Earth to Hunter!”

Fingers snapped in front of his face and Hunter was jolted back to the conversation. Grey smirked and laughed as he took a swig of whatever was cheap tonight.

“You’re down bad for him, vod,” Grey teased.

Hunter and Tech’s relationship wasn’t a new thing, but it wasn’t often that Hunter got to openly watch his partner let go. It was captivating.

“He makes a compelling argument,” Hunter joked in reference to the way Tech was moving to the music.

“Hard to say no when they look that good, right?” Grey followed his gaze and watched Tech as well, but Hunter nudged him with a friendly warning.

“You regs might be into sharing, but that one belongs to me.” Hunter took another shot, and now the world was blurry. He was going to have a hell of a time in the morning, but that was for Future Hunter to deal with. Present Hunter was about to go get his boy.

Grey laughed outright at that and saluted him. “Seems to me like you’re the one that belongs to him.”

The statement gave Hunter pause as he mulled it over, and yeah, he most certainly did belong to Tech. He would bend the galaxy in half if it was within his power to give Tech what he wanted, and there was nothing that he intended to change about that. Was it dangerous considering their line of work? Sure, but they all knew the risks of having a deep, intimate relationship during a seemingly endless war, and it was one they were willing to take. A sliver of something that belonged to them at the end of the day when there were times of dark hopelessness was exactly what they needed. Hunter and Tech were no exception.

“And that’s not something I’m gonna take for granted,” came Hunter’s reply finally. He slammed down his shot glass and threw a substantial number of credits on the bar next to it. “See you around, Captain.”

As Hunter clapped Grey on the shoulder he fixed his eyes on his prize – the man with the tantalizing hips and the sweet smile. He moved through the crowd like a man hypnotized, drawn in by the back and forth motion of Tech’s body as he danced to the rhythm like the beat of his own heart. One falsely confident step after another Hunter followed the trail of the scent Tech was giving off. There was a mix of his own aroma, electricity and something spicy, and a hint of something Hunter knew as arousal. 

Others seemed to part for him now, sensing that he had a specific destination. Music raced through his veins like the high of spice and his boots fell in time with the bass as he crossed the dancefloor. Tech’s gaze fell on him and a thrill raced up Hunter’s spine when he was beckoned closer still with the crook of his finger. 

Like a magnet they came together, Hunter’s hands latching onto Tech’s hips as Tech pressed his palms to Hunter’s chest. Hunter wouldn’t ever consider himself a dancer. It wasn’t something that spoke to him the way that it spoke to his partner, but he did consider himself fluent in Tech’s body. That was a language he knew by heart, so falling into place with him and into the synths and snares was as easy as falling into bed with him. 

Instantly, Hunter was glued to him, mesmerized by the way their legs slotted together and they slid together to each rise and fall of the beat. Already Hunter was thinking about what he was going to do with this man’s body. Take him back to the Marauder and get him naked? Take him in the pilot’s seat? Spring for a hotel for the night and make him scream his name all night long? Put him against the wall right in that back corner…?

Hunter moaned as he felt Tech thread his fingers through his hair and draw him into an easy, heated kiss. A different taste of alcohol hit his taste buds as their tongues clashed teasingly, something sweet and sticky, and he wondered briefly if Tech himself would taste so delectable. He filed that away for later. For now, however, Tech was grinding on his thigh and Hunter could feel the hard line of his erection desperate for attention. Groaning low in his throat, he pulled back from their kiss and rumbled against the shell of his ear. 

“How long have you been hard, baby?” He asked and slid his hands lower to dig his fingertips into the plush cheeks of Tech’s ass. 

For the first time that night Hunter noticed that perhaps the flush on Tech’s cheekbones was from arousal as opposed to the dancing. More than likely it was both, but from the way Tech arched, he concluded that his arousal had started taking the forefront a while ago. 

“Approximately forty-eight minutes and twenty-seven seconds,” Tech answered, “and I do not think I will make it back to the ship without some kind of relief.” 

Maybe it was the haze of alcohol buzzing through his veins, or maybe Hunter’s own horny brain took over. Whatever the answer, he had a solution. In hindsight, it wasn’t ideal, but it was going to take the edge off and hopefully get them back to the ship to properly fuck. He moved and took Tech’s hand in his own. “With me.” 

Tech followed without hesitation, giving his complete trust and faith in his sergeant. They passed Grey again, who gave them a knowing smirk, and Hunter caught Crosshair’s eyes from the other side of the bar. Silent communication passed between them as Crosshair nodded. He’d keep an eye on things while Hunter and Tech took care of business. He looked to be engrossed in conversation with Waxer while Wrecker, Boil, and Wooley were playing some drinking game that involved rings and hooks. 

As they cut through the crowd Hunter could feel Tech on his heels, could smell the need wafting from his skin, could still taste the sweet drink from their kiss on his tongue. Everything was driving him wild in the best ways. Unceremoniously, he pushed the door to the fresher open, coming face-to-face with a few vod who seemed to have a similar idea as him. They exchanged knowing smirks, and the one with yellow tattoos on his cheeks had his partner begging for more as Hunter at least had the decency to slide into a stall, tugging Tech in with him. 

“This is hardly sanitary,” Tech commented with a tipsy giggle when Hunter crowded back against the door and latched onto his neck, lips quick to make a mark into his salty skin. 

“Do you want sanitary, or do you want to cum?” Hunter questioned as he rucked Tech’s shirt up his chest, not taking it off, but enough for him to run his fingers over the taut abs that were now exposed. 

Tech moaned and dug his fingers back into Hunter’s hair with one hand. The other trailed pulled at Hunter’s belt, clumsily loosening it and fumbling with the button and zipper of tight jeans until finally reaching what he wanted. 

“Shit, Tech!” Hunter jerked and pressed his own erection into Tech’s grasp. Desperation pushed through the pleasant alcohol haze and he mimicked Tech’s motions, pulling him free to get both hands on him. His lips curled upwards as he chuckled into his neck. “You have been hard for a while. Surprised you haven’t leaked all over your pants yet with how damp your cock is for me.” 

Whatever retort had been on Tech’s tongue died with the moan that rang from his throat as Hunter pumped him steadily, smearing the gathered fluid over his shaft. He arched and gasped into every tiny movement, clearly oversensitive. Hunter understood. This was going to be quick, and that was fine with him. As long as it took off the edge they could make it wherever Tech wanted to go. He’d do anything, go anywhere, give him the galaxy…

“Gonna kriff you so hard when we get to the Marauder,” Hunter purred and sucked another mark into Tech’s neck. 

A soft, confident chuckle vibrated against his ear, and Hunter shivered as the hand Tech had in his hair pulled, tugging him from his neck before he gripped his chin. “You are so very sure that you are going to be the one in a position of dominance tonight.”

Hunter gasped, and Tech took the opportunity to press the pad of his thumb against his tongue. Instinctively, Hunter closed his lips around the digit and sucked. Saliva coated Tech’s thumb as Hunter treated it as he would his cock with lewd, messy slurping. 

“Perhaps,” Tech continued, “I will be the one in charge. I could bend you over the console, bounce you on my cock, or you could ride me in the pilot seat for anyone passing by to see.” 

The mental images that Tech was painting had Hunter purring around his thumb. Yes, he wanted that, all of it, whatever Tech wanted as long as they were together. 

“You would be so good for me, would you not?” Tech hummed. 

A loud, needy moan fell from Hunter’s lips then as Tech twisted his wrist and jerked his cock faster. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be so good for you, Ace.” 

Another chuckle tacked onto a moan before Tech claimed Hunter’s kiss-swollen lips. “I know you will. You are always such a good boy for me.” 

“Teeeeccchhh!” Hunter whined and fucked into Tech’s tightened hand. “Kriff, I need you.” 

“Soon,” Tech promised into another kiss. “Cum with me, Hunter. I am close.” 

Hunter nodded and panted against Tech’s lips as he worked both of his hands up and down Tech’s length, feeling him draw and and go rigid the closer to the edge he got. On the other side of the door, Hunter could make out the sound of the other two clones they had barged in on coming undone for one another as presumably the one with yellow tattoos finishes inside of his vod, skin halting on skin. 

“H-Hunter…!” Tech cried out as cum splashed between them. His jaw dropped and his thighs quivered as he chased his orgasm. Within seconds, Hunter followed, Tech’s name dancing on his tongue the same way this man had managed to dance his way into his heart. They held fast to one another as their highs washed over them. The bass from the music on the other side of the wall pounded like the beating of their hearts, syncopated. 

After a few moments, they hear the other two vods clean up and leave, and Hunter shakily reaches for a towel to wipe the splatter from the clothes. There was no way they would be able to really hide what they had been up to, but that was fine with him. Let their clothes advertise what they were leaving to do after this. Hunter was happy to display that Tech was the one that got him so worked up to cum all over himself. 

“Alright?” Tech asked, combing his clean hand through Hunter’s hair. 

“I’m good,” Hunter chuckled, and he leaned heavily into Tech’s chest. They jumped when the fresher door opened again and another pair of drunk vod came in with again the same idea as them. Hunter was beginning to realize that his brilliant idea was just standard for the Regs. Go figure. 

“Shall we head back? We should probably clear the stall so others can…” As Tech trailed off the heard one of the other clones moan, and it was distinctly a voice they both recognized. Quietly, Hunter opened the stall door and peeked, and he immediately closed it again. 

“Is that Crosshair?” Tech questioned incredulously. Crosshair had been known to hookup with others from time to time, but almost never with a Reg. 

“Looks like Commander Mayday,” Hunter replied as he zipped himself back up and got Tech straightened up. “Let’s get going before we hear more than we intend to.” 

“Agreed.” Tech took Hunter’s hand in his own and led him this time, through the bathroom door and just fast enough that they only saw what looked to be Crosshair on his knees. As they tumbled out of the fresher they laughed as they fell into one another. “Let us go back to the ship. I believe I owe you a ride.” 

Hunter couldn’t be more happy to follow orders. 

[inhuman-obey-me]

On Simeon and what it means to be an angel

The beautiful, gentle angel who can smile through just about anything. But what's underneath the ever-present smile of his? Is he really just pure, sweet, and kind?

Not at all. Simeon can be very mischievous at some times, and scarily wrathful at others. Some of you may be thinking, just what kind of angel is someone like that? Well, let's talk about that.

(includes spoilers up to lesson 52)

Starting with the idea of what angels are supposed to be like - the common, pop-culture characterization of angels is that they are pure, merciful, peaceful beings who can only do good and are horrified by anything dark or bad.

And admittedly, Simeon doesn't seem to quite perfectly fit that mold.

[Disclaimer: Neither mod of this blog belong to the Abrahamic religions, so this is purely from our own research]

In terms of how angels have been described in various scriptures, however, this isn't actually what they are like. Angels act on behalf of God, and are usually not meant to have any free will of their own. The thing that separates angels from demons is not a tendency towards kindness and purity, but that their actions are aligned with God's desires rather than their own. What this means in effect is that, both in actual scripture and in the game, angels can and will do things that are a lot less pure and peaceful than their modern mainstream depictions would suggest.

For example, there is a part of the Bible (at least in various versions) where it is mentioned that an angel was ordered by God to kill one hundred eighty-five Assyrians, leaving their camp full of dead bodies in the morning.

The poet Rainer Maria Rilke states in his The Duino Elegies - "Every Angel is terror".

Seraphim - which is what OM!'s renditions of Simeon and Lucifer both formerly were - are basically six-winged snakes. Cherubim, as OM!'s Beelzebub formerly was, are actually multi-faced humanoid-lions with wings. "Do not be afraid," is a line angels often say when they meet humans because they are just as scary-looking as demons - just they're, you know, the "good" ones.

Actual descriptions of angels aside, even in-game, we are presented with example after example that angels are not perfect "pure and good" beings either. The game itself emphasizes this point at various times - if you upset Simeon during Surprise Guest interactions, one of his displeased lines is: "Just because I'm an angel doesn't mean I'm all forgiving." In lesson 51, though he initially says he left Satan to be with the Angel versions of his brothers for Satan's benefit, if MC actually agrees that he was just being kind, he is surprised that they really believed him.

It's not just him, either. Similar to Simeon's upset reaction, if you give Luke a present he doesn't like, he says, "I know I'm an all-forgiving angel and everything, but even so, this is a little too much..." When MC briefly lands in the past, the brothers actually describe Simeon as the least intense of the seraphim. Back when the brothers were angels, Lucifer was still known for being strict and arrogant. On the more extreme end, Raphael was known for keeping the angels in line via the pointy end of his spear, as Asmodeus fears will happen to him as punishment for going to a party. And Michael himself, the top-ranking leader, who one might think should be the most angelic of angels, is described as a sadist. In the Angelic Demons event, Michael even gets Simeon to give the demon brothers cursed bracelets that temporarily turn them into angels. It's not a very nice prank to pull on them, as it makes the brothers miserable to be converted back to their old forms, not to mention that the curse goes so far that they are turned into the caricature of overly nice and polite angels - but as it could be considered more in line with pulling them towards "God's will," this would actually be considered a good angel thing to do.

As the game points out, being the least intense doesn't exactly make Simeon easygoing, either. In fact, we have seen at this point quite a few examples of Simeon's rage. As a play director, he berates the brothers so much over any mistakes that they call him a dictator. Not to mention, the reason they are in the play in the first place is because the entire previous cast quit because they couldn't deal with him.

Later, when he and Luke are running the Angel's Halo, he drags the brothers into helping out. Though he is shown still smiling, everyone agrees because they are terrified of his menacing aura. Even Diavolo, when on the home screen, remarks about hiding because he made Lucifer mad again, but it's Simeon who he calls "the one person in this world I don't want to anger."

On a much lighter note, some of his less "angelic" behavior also comes from his playful, mischievous side. As referenced earlier, he is surprised if MC believes he was just being nice, but if the player says they thought he was pranking Satan, it gives intimacy points with him, and he says:

He also joins in on the teasing of Luke, having his name as "Luke (Chihuahua)" in his D.D.D. contacts. Multiple of his home screen lines also show how much he loves messing with Luke in general:

"I'm free right now, so I think I might go and tease Luke."

"Luke is like a Chihuahua who thinks it is a German Shepherd. Cute, huh?"

"I'm back! I was so excited to meet you that I left Luke behind."

"If you don't eat enough breakfast, you'll turn out tiny like Luke."

Plus, in dance battles, one of his chibi poses is him teasingly scaring someone, while Luke has a corresponding scared pose, suggesting that he may be meant to be scaring Luke in particular.

He also gets MC to mess with Belphegor when they are looking for him, instructing them to kick the tree that he knows he's probably asleep in as hard as they possibly can.

However, while none of those things make him any less of an angel, there is evidence to support that he is, in fact, a "bad" angel in a different sense.

As the two Celestial Realm exchange students, Simeon and Luke represent two opposite ends of a spectrum of angel attitudes. Luke, having still been very young when the Great Celestial War happened, has been taught to have very uptight views of the demons, insisting that they are evil and should be avoided at all costs. When he first arrives in the Devildom, he is terrified at the idea that the two of them could get corrupted by the demons and fall. This is the prevailing attitude taught in the Celestial Realm: that demons are wicked, and that angels are inherently better than them.

By contrast, Simeon does not hold this view at all. He is happy to spend time with the demon brothers, and doesn't look down on them for falling. On the home screen, Luke complains, "Simeon is too sweet to demons! He's sweeter than a cake from Madam Scream's!" In the Rain, a Fire and Simeon Devilgram story, Simeon even talks about how he actually prefers the hustle and bustle of the Devildom, feeling that the Celestial Realm feels too quiet now.

This difference between him and Luke is not only expressed in his fondness for the demons, either. Simeon understands the nuances of good vs evil, and he himself seems to operate in shades of grey at times, rather than being perfectly aligned with Michael's (and by extension, it's implied, God's) wishes. More than once, he displays quite a flippant attitude towards following the rules, such as his very hand-wavey dismissal when MC asks about his lying.

Luke also calls him out on his disregard for rules, saying that Simeon is just too loose about following them:

However, this glib attitude should not be taken to mean that Simeon doesn't know exactly what he's doing. When it seems the only solution to restore stability to the three realms is for MC to sever all their pacts with the demon brothers, he quickly realizes that the other option, the Ring of Light that used to belong to Lucifer, must be hidden among Michael's things rather than lost to time as everyone thought. He tells Luke that he needs to go back to the Celestial Realm to take care of something, but he is firm that Luke should not come with him - because he is going to steal the ring from Michael, a risky, rebellious move that he doesn't want Luke to get involved in. He is perfectly aware of what he's doing, and actively chooses to do it anyway, consequences be damned, because he wants to do what he feels is right.

When Michael does confront him about it, he's not the least bit sorry, either. In fact, he sasses him and talks back, unafraid to show disrespect to God's top angel.

We also know that he's been demoted at some point. Luke tells MC that Simeon is an archangel, making him one of the Celestial Realm's warriors, or as Simeon himself has jokingly described it, a "low-level grunt" who is overworked by higher-up angels like Michael. However, during MC's time travel back to the Celestial Realm, we learn that Simeon used to be a seraph right alongside Michael and Lucifer. It is again referenced during the fairy incident, when he makes the low-level grunt joke again but is then reminded that he was a seraph at this point in time. We're not sure yet why he was demoted - there's a lot of speculation on this point, and we can't draw any definitive conclusions yet - but if we take that being a "good" angel means being obedient to Michael and God, we start to get a far less rosy picture of Simeon's good standing as an angel.

What does this mean? Is he a "bad" angel? Kind of, but not for the reasons some may think. His mischievous, devious, and playful side is not what makes him less angelic. It is his more rebellious, nonconformist way of doing things that actually opens up the possibility of him gradually getting further and further away from being an ideal angel, and potentially putting him on the path of falling from grace.

[ilove-cedricdiggory]

I think it's due time I've made a little something for the guy my entire page is dedicated to 😅 So, here we have it!

Just say you won't let go

Cedric x Reader

Requested - no

Summary - Written as though you're inside the song, Say You Won't Let Go, with Cedric

Trigger Warning - Fluffy

I met you in the dark, you lit me up. You made me feel as though, I was enough. We danced the night away, we drank too much. I held your hair back when you were throwing up.

Cedric spun you once again, your giggled filling the nearly empty room. You had been surprised when he asked you to the ball, especially when you thought his eyes had been on Cho lately. But, the two of you had bumped into each other on your prefect rounds, late in the night. You had decided to stick together through your rounds, conversing on his first task with his Dragon. Right before you had separated, he smiled down at you, "Hey, y/n, would you possibly go to be Yule ball with me?" His arm bent at an angle, his hand scratching the back of his neck as he awaited your reply. "Ced, I'd love nothing more than to go with you."

The two of you had quite a bit of the spiked punch the twins told you about, now far from sober. You laughed once more as he lifted you up in the air, just like he had during the champions dance, only this time, your stomach churned. As soon as he set you back down, you took off, your beautiful dress being held up by your hands as you rushed to the nearest bathroom. Your insides quickly came out as your felt his hands scoop up your hair, holding it back as the other rubbed your back softly.

Then you smiled over your shoulder, for a minute I was stone cold sober. I pulled you closer to my chest. And you asked me to stay over, I said, "I already told you, I think that you should get some rest."

After you were finished, you took a deep breath and turned to glance at him over your shoulder. You smiled softly, even through the alcohol, you felt white embarrassed. But you looked into his eyes, seeing a sense of safety in them before he pulled you close, your head softly laying on his chest. "I'm really sorry." You mumbled, wiping anything off your face that might have come from your recent sickness. "Don't be, I lifted you up right after I spun you, I'm pretty sure any normal person would get sick after that." He laughed, smoothing your hair down now.

"Do you wanna come to my room?" You asked him softly, the two of you walking slowly to your common room. "I don't really want the night to be over yet. We could cuddle and just talk for a few hours." You said, looking up at him. His fingers softly pushed a piece of hair out of your face and behind your ear before speaking. "Love, I already told you. I think that you should get some rest."

I knew I loved you then, but you'd never know. Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go. I know I needed you, but I never showed. But I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old. Just say you won't let go.

The next morning, you slowly walked to the great hall, your head pounding. You had never been more thankful for a Christmas holiday. You stepped in the doors, glancing up to see Cedric already looking straight at you. He smiled a smile that filled his eyes with happiness at the sight of you, but you were too far to see. He motioned you over to the seat next to his, watching as you slowly walked over to him. The two of you ate in quiet whispers, both of your heads pounding unlike ever before.

You glanced over at him as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. Your heart filled with an emotion you weren't really expecting so early on, if you're being honest with yourself. But, the only thing you could think of was how lovely he was going to look when he was old, and how much you hoped you get to sit next to him, watching the sun set as you sat in a quiet whispers, much like you both were now.

I'll wake you up with some breakfast in bed. I'll bring you coffee with a kiss on your head. I'll take the kids to school, wave them goodbye. I'll thank my lucky stars for that night.

It was years after hogwarts, years after the war. You had spent many of days thanking Harry for bringing Cedric back to you. The school had been stunned when the both showed up, panting with a fear stuck in their eyes. Cedric rushed to you, bringing you into his arms as he held you, forgetting everything surrounding him. His father came up, but he refused to let you go. You heard the voices around you grow quiet as Harry spoke.

"He's back." Cedric tightened his grasp on you, refusing to let you go.

Now, the war was over. He was fine, you were fine, and you were happy. Your nights weren't filled with nightmares as often as they used to be, and your children were growing up in a world you'd want for them.

"Love, wake up." His voice was soft, a kiss pressed to your hairline. "I got you breakfast." He helped you move to a sitting position, your full belly showed through the covers. You groaned as a kick pushed against you, your hand moving quickly to the spot, rubbing it carefully. "Thank you, love." You spoke, smiling up at your husband. "Coffee, just as you like, you weirdo." Cedric was always a tea person, but the second your mouth came in contact with the dark liquid, you were set on coffee. "The kids." You spoke, your eyes wide. "It's a school day." The two older boys, twins, were just 8 now, and we're attending a normal, muggle school.

"I'm gonna take them. They're both ready, putting their shoes on now." You smiled lovingly at your husband, so incredibly grateful for him. He kissed you softly before leaving you with your food, taking your boys to their school. He smiled as they rushed off, greeting their friends before sauntering into the front doors. His mind wandered to the night he bumped into you, that night at Hogwarts, and thanked whoever and whatever he could for it. The night he finally picked up enough courage to ask you to the ball, the night he spent hours walking the dark hallways, listening to your voice fill the empty air.

I'm so in love with you, and I hope you know. Darling your love is more than worth it's weight in gold. We've come so far my dear, look how we've grown. I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old. Just say you won't let go.

You laid in Cedric's arms, one of his hands rubbing your scalp, the other tracing shapes onto your arm. The two of you had just gotten back from dropping your twins off at the train, your daughter having stayed with Molly and Arthur.

"Our kids are already on their way to Hogwarts." You spoke, staring at your ceiling. "Hogwarts was terrifying when we were kids, Ced. Quirrel was Voldemort, a giant snake running around trying to kill muggle borns, Sirius on the loose, that God awful tri-wizard tournament. You were almost bloody killed!" Your anxiety was rising with each word, absolutely terrified of what your boys were about to face.

"Honey, honey, it's okay. The boys have Mcgonagall as their headmistress. They don't have Voldemort fighting to come back, they are safe. Heck, Neville is a professor there. The boys know him, if anything happens, I'm sure they'll go straight to him. Plus, Hogwarts was also full of such amazing things. Hogwarts gave me you."

His voice filled your ears, his words finding home in your heart. "We've grown up so much." You said softly, turning to look up into his eyes. "And I wouldn't trade a single day of it, because I've grown with you. I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old." He leaned down, kissing your forehead softly.

I wanna live with you, even when were ghosts, cause you were always there for me when I needed you most. I'm gonna love you till my lungs give out, I promise till death we part, like in our vows. So I wrote this song for you, so everybody knows, that it's just you and me until we're grey and old. Just say you won't let go.

"Hey, hey, Ced, wake up. Wake up." You shook your husband awake, your eyes softly moving to his cheeks. His eyes popped open, looking up at you. "I'm not dead." He whispered, his arms moving to wrap you up, just like they had so many years ago. Cedric had grown, just like you had, but his brain still occasionally forgot that Voldemort was unsuccessful at killing him, back in the graveyard.

"Baby, you're okay. You're right here with me. You're alive." You moved to sit in his lap, cradling his head in your arms, right at your chest. "Listen to my heart, you're alive." You whispered, running your fingers softly through his hair.

"You are always here for me when I need you the most." He whispered after calming down, pulling away to look into your eyes. "I'll always be here. Good and bad." You spoke, kissing him.

The two of you were laying in bed, his head resting on your chest as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. "When we die, we should become ghosts. Live forever in our home. That way, I'd know I'd never leave you." His voice was soft, but shaky, almost scared again. "Baby, even if we don't become ghosts, I'm never leaving you. I promised till death we part, but it's so much more than that."

The two of you slowly fell back to sleep, holding each other tightly. You and Cedric, until you're grey and old.

Just say you won't let go, oh, just say you won't let go.

Your wrinkly hands were tight in Cedric's, the both of you sitting together, in the silent whispers. The sun was setting before you both, the sound of your grandkids in the house behind you. "Just put your pajamas on!" Your son spoke, chasing his daughter. "Gramma said I can stay up until 9!" She yelled back, rushing past her father. "That doesn't mean you can't get dressed! Little girl!" She giggled loudly as he picked her up, leaving you and Cedric to laugh yourselves.

"Looks like we're finally grey and old." You whispered, glancing at your husband. As handsome as ever, he was, just like you knew he would be. "And you're as beautiful as you were the night I met you." You smiled as he brought your hand up to kiss it, smiling at you. You laid your head back against your chair, looking into his eyes.

You both were laying in bed a few weeks later, both of you knowing your time was coming to an end. You looked over at your husband, seeing him eyeing you from the corner of his eyes, once again. You slowly moved your hand to grasp his, your eyes watery.

Your voice was soft as you felt sleep slowly overcome you. "Just say you won't let go."

[heresathreebee]

No Touching

[Ava Starr x Female!Reader]

Summary: Friend dates with Ava always brighten your day (and night). Tonight is more enlightening than brightening, though… 

Previous Masterlist Next

Word count: 1.7 words

Warning(s): 14+ | angst, gay panic, dolls, 1 (one) racist antique, Steven Segal movie, chronic pain, tears.

AN: No actually I didn't bother to edit this, not doing that anymore, I think too much as it is. As always, I write with a black reader in mind but feel free to read even if you aren't. 🖤

You are eighty percent sure that you and Ava are dating.

85%... 78%... 81.5% sure.

It would probably be best if you cleared that up (but be cool about it though). You've started seeing each other more and more, and on purpose no less. Never a dull conversation, she's reluctant to share some of her life story but she's eager to know everything about you and you're more than happy to indulge. It's not like you know nothing about her; you just don't know the specifics of her past. 

Her parents died when she was young, she's ex-military (you think?), and she just came off of a huge life change and is getting used to what she calls 'real life.' You figure out she's a bit of a shut in and hates crowds, so you go out of your way to show her quiet places and introduce her to things she's never tried before. The bowl by your front door where you put your keys has 20 or 30 marbles from ramune bottles in it. You can't seem to ring her secret out of her, she just gives you this cryptic knowing smile and laughs at your attempts to sweet talk or annoy it out of her. 

You feel so close, growing closer still, she's quickly become the best part of your week, and you catch yourself thinking about her even when she's not with you. But you've never held hands. Hell, you've never even so much as brushed shoulders with her by accident. If you're dating, shouldn't you at least hug her goodbye? Is she even able to be into you like that?? 

You try not to let the panic set in as you stand outside of the antiques mall. You told her you liked old things and promised to show her your favorite pastime. God, how do you go about this? Should you just flirt with her and see how she reacts? Also how does one flirt? What if you’re fucking up and she really just wants to be friends? God knows you could use some friends right now. 

When she does appear, you do nothing. You continue to act relaxed and enjoy her presence, promising yourself you’ll ask about it afterwards. Ava’s wearing that grey jacket again made of a thin sports fabric and you make a mental note it might rain today. 

“Ava,” you stage whisper, waving her out of the jewelry section by the front desk and into the maze of vintage old clothes and furniture. “Back here, to the left.” 

Deep deep deep in a corner of the massive store, Ava stops dead in her tracks (you run into her but back away quickly) and stares. 

“This... is…” Ava covers her mouth with her hands to hold her laughter in, “ghastly.” 

The shelf is wide, with dark wood trimming and protective glass. The lights are almost fluorescent as they illuminate dozens of humanoid dolls. Some are cute, but some are also creepy, unnerving, down right scary. 

You point at the one with the Jonbenet Ramsey likeness and deep cracks in her porcelain face. It was overly large compared to the rest, having to have stuffed legs crossed like a sitting child. "I think I fear that one the most." 

You felt Ava shiver and didn't even realize you were standing that close. Her eyes darted from face to face, taking in every terrible and wonderful detail of them. You smelled coconut in her hair and tried to distance yourself a bit, missing the conversation. "Huh?" 

"I said they're haunted, aren't they?" 

"That one definitely is." You look over the other dolls. "I don't know, I think the rest are kinda cute. 'Cept that one: that one can fuck off straight to hell." 

Down on the second shelf where the light began to struggle in reach belied an offensive porcelain joke. The decoration portrayed an over animated child at play, with oil black skin, fat red lips, and bulbous eyes. This child was dressed in white rags and sucking on a wedge of fruit. Guess which one. Fucking guess, I dare you. 

"It's not even a fucking doll," Ava grumbled. "Why is it here?" 

You leaned in to whisper, "someday, I'm gonna buy that thing just to fucking smash it on the pavement." 

"Oh, what a lovely sound it would make." 

You hum. "I'm not gonna give nobody money for that trash. Can't steal it either, we'd never make it to the door." 

Ava looked over her shoulder with a cheeky smile. "We?" 

You simply tilt your head at her, and she huffs out a laugh. She nodded as if agreeing with you, then drifted away from the case like a wary woman. You toured through the rest of the store like a treasure trove of other people's memories, war memorabilia, ancient brand merchandise (why would anyone want a life size green m&m in their house? Who is this for?), and paintings from the dadeism era by unpopular artists. You ate lunch at the vendor shops in downtown and retired to your place for a movie. 

You must have fallen asleep at the beginning but you came to during some big shootout between Steven Segal and generic Latino drug dealer #7 when you accidentally dropped your hand into Ava's lap. Quickly, Ava withdrawals, thrusting herself to the other side of the couch as if in disgust. Your head jerks up in hurt and confusion, you hadn't even felt anything except a light tingling. You could barely hear the tv audio over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. 

"You can't touch me," Ava spat. "You just can't. Ever. Please…" 

"I'm sorry. Ava, I– I am so, so sorry I didn't mean to–" 

"It's not your fault and you didn't know," she mumbled and faltered, "it's just… you can't." 

You feel tears prick in the corner of your eyes as you try to swallow. "I'm sorry. Really. It won't happen again." 

Ava looked up at you guiltily and sighed. She folded her legs and eased herself off of the couch arm rest, hands tucked into her lap and unable to meet your eyes anymore. 

"It's not what you think it is," she explained. "I… I have a condition of sorts. And it… it hurts.” 

Her words put a hold on the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Like a… skin condition? Or nerves or something?” 

Ava nodded quickly. “Yes. yes, like a nerves thing. My um, my nervous system. It's chronic."

“Oh Ava,” you cover your heart with a breathy sigh, “of course! I wish I’d known I would have never–” 

“It’s not something I like to talk about.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m really glad you understand. Sorry I freaked out, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything.” 

You tried to blow a raspberry. “It’s whatever, didn’t hurt my feelings.” 

Yeah, you could hear the weakness of the lie, too. Still, Ava went and parked herself on the couch exactly where she was before– close but not too close. Warm but not quite touching. You were ready to let it slide and go right back to pretending to watch the movie when– 

“So what’s going on between us exactly? I like girls– I like you– and I don’t mean just in a friend sort of way– is it maybe sorta possible you might feel the same way about me?” 

Who said that? You? Honestly you’re feeling a little dizzy as you try and stare a hole in the tv screen. And Ava? Well at least she didn’t hold you in suspense for too long. She chuckled– and god you had to look. You had to know if she was laughing at you or with you. Your eyes snapped to her completely unmocking face. 

She blinked at you, bit her lip even. “Yes, I am.. Capable of liking girls. Might prefer them actually. And I definitely like you in a more-than-a-friend sort of way.” 

It takes a second to sink in. OK, it takes a hot minute to sink in. Like the movie ended and you walked Ava home and you slept in until 10 am and made omelettes for breakfast at noon and laid down on your floor staring at the ceiling until sundown. Yeah that kind of hot minute. And your lips curled into a soft smile because you had a girlfriend and she liked girls and you could not be happier than you are right now. 

~

Ava asked you to meet her on the corner by the antiques mall that night. You don’t know how but she got her grubby, thieving little mitts on that disgusting tar baby doll from the haunted doll shelf. You made her swear up and down she didn’t pay real money for it, then nearly pulled out your hair when you realized it meant she definitely stole it and– 

"How the ffffUCK do you just DO that?!" 

"Slight of hand," she mused. 

Fuck, and she was a geek. Yeah, you're definitely in love. She pushes the ugly thing into your hands and despite being cold porcelain it feels like it's burning. 

"Do the honors." 

There's no build up. No ceremony. You don't want to drag this out anymore. You take a swinging leap and spike that shit and watch it shatter into a hundred pieces with the most glorious sound you'll ever hear. You land in slow motion, already replaying the image of thick glass pieces cracking on the indigo pavement. You stand over your mess, triumphant. 

The quiet of the night time street drifts back to you, as does Ava. "I'll be honest I expected a big speech." 

You shrug. "I've been waiting too long to do that. Thank you, Ava. I mean it." 

"Oh believe me it was my pleasure." Ava swaggers closer to you and if you didnt know better you'd think she was going in for a kiss. "Tonight, the tar baby. Tomorrow, the world." 

You resist the urge to clap her on her shoulders and throw your hands in the air instead. "Sounds like a date!" 

Next

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Brother': New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Brother"

"You need to stay strong...a warrior believing in our Greater Russia..."

Chapter Summary: The investigation at Peter's place put Yirina's mood in a bad way, impossible to express how she feels to Park and to talk to her, now trying to forgive herself about that and just trying to forget things...

Link of the Picrew used !

To read it on AO3, click here!

Words : +3200

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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What I saw inside Peter's apartment didn't actually give me a better mood from earlier today, acting a bit different than I usually am and finding myself rude at some point with Park when she was forgiving herself to me again for what she did. Peter was leading his own investigation against the Collective and hidden from the MI6 sight and I found out that even to him, I couldn't be fully trusted because of my past of having been 'Perseus child' and that, I should have known that even some people around me could still not see me as an ally because of what happened.

I came back to the car alone, wanting to have some relief and trying to think about myself as some cars were arriving on the street picking my curiosity and preparing my M1911 in the case of a surprise, ready to open fire before realizing that it was just the MI6 cleaning crew that was coming after Park made her call to them, me staying in the car as a witness of the scene while Park was supervising that part outside, guiding the others who were transporting card boxes outside to their car's trunks...all of Peter's work landing right into the MI6 hands and it was a lot at seeing those filled up boxes in their hands.

Once that this little cleaning was done in more than 20 minutes, the agents left the place, Park going back to the car to drive away and return to Century House for the car and then, walking back to the apartment but during those moments, I didn't move my lips once to start a discussion or to respond to Park who was trying on her own to do so with me, wanting to talk about things that weren't linked to what she did and our pasts but even with that happening, my lips stayed sealed during the drive and our walk back to the apartment until arriving in our bedroom.

Undressing and removing myself from the clothes I took with me as Park was looking sad, still trying to talk to me but nothing wanted to come out, not a goddamn word would be wanted to escape from my mouth despite that I would have like to do it, my mood wasn't just allowing me that to happen as it just wanted me to lay down on that bed in front of me and that's what I did, doing it without saying a word and looking away from Park, blank stare at the wall on my side of the bed.

Deep inside of me, I was feeling so bad for leaving Park without telling her what was wrong with me...everything was wrong, it was easy to think & guess but saying was harder...always been harder. To try to forgive me to her for this, I managed to turn around on the bed to look at her uncovered back, seeing those scars from her days in prison and the only thing I could do...was a cuddle with my arms, wrapping them around her and her reaction...I didn't want to know what she was going to think about it as I shut my eyes, drifting into sleep.

Two knocks...two knocks were the first things I could hear when I found myself standing upright in front of Zasha's apartment door in Moscow, dressed in my civilian's clothes: a dark green denim jacket, a black buttoned shirt, grey fingerless gloves blue jeans, and a pair of black boots, going over the bottom of my jeans. I was looking a bit worried about something I couldn't know before I starts to hear some footsteps coming through the door before it opened slowly but not entirely.

"Oh," I heard someone gasp at my sight before I could see Dedov behind the door, his body covering the space between the door and its frame. "That's...that's you, Yirina," He said, a little smile on his face.

"Hey, Dedov," I waved at him with my left hand, smiling too. "Is there Zasha here?" I asked him, trying to look inside but it was impossible as Dedov was on the way.

"Zeze?" I nodded at him. "No, they aren't here, they left to have a date with Portnova," He replied at me, his hands getting on the door.

"Oh okay, I thought that they will be here," I said, sounding a bit confused about it, scratching my right arm with my left hand.

"Well, that wasn't planned but the two didn't see each other since you & them...you know, left for your job in...Solovetsky, right?" He demanded, sounding curious.

"Yeah, it was more complicated than we thought and our work didn't allow us to make personal calls," I responded, my left hand crossing along my upper body to join the back of my head, scratching it. "I'm sorry about this," I apologized.

"No worries, it's okay if it was for your job," He exclaimed, accepting my apologies before a little weird silence got itself between the two of us as if it was impossible to find something to talk about.

"Uhm, since that Zasha isn't here...I guess that..."

"Oh no, you can come in," Dedov offered, getting the door open for me before leaning on the ground to catch the little Beans that was going for a run outside. "As for you, you can't come out, I told you that," He said, pointing at the cat who meowed at him, sounding a bit not understanding why she wasn't allowed to leave the place.

"Oww," I moaned at this scene, seeing Beans' eyes going into a cute mood focused on Dedov. "That's so cute," I affirmed, grinning as Dedov got Beans in his arms, holding her like a baby and giving her cuddles.

"Come in, I insist," Dedov insisted, gesturing at me to enter the apartment and seeing that there was nothing that was going to make me occupied, I decided to agree on his proposal and stepped inside the apartment. "You maybe want something? Tea? Coffee?"

"No, I wouldn't want to steal from Zasha's coffee reserves," I scoffed, him closing the door behind me while still holding Beans in his left arm before he laughed about it.

"Got lucky that the reserves didn't go down during the days you weren't here...well, until now," He added, releasing a friendly laugh at that remark from him. "The first thing they did when they come back after hugging me was to take one coffee...no, two...or three,"

"Put the blame on the coffee machines back at Solovetsky," I proclaimed, moving with him to the living room who was well cleaned up, a little TV turned on. "Coffee over there was awful, had to spit it multiples times, that's explaining why Zasha needed some...necessary caffeine in them," I continued, taking a breath as I walk next to the couch.

"I'm pretty sure that right now, they're arguing with Portnova about having another cup of coffee during their date," Dedov presumed, arriving in the room after me as he was just closing a door from the hallway leading to the living room.

"Them & their coffee," I muttered, rolling my eyes around before deciding to get sit on the couch.

"Go on, Beans, I'm letting you go," Dedov whispered as he leaned down to let Beans go back on the ground on her paws, directly taking the direction of the kitchen. "To say, it's nice to have an animal with me,"

"Sounds nice, shame that I didn't have the same luck on that part," I expressed, putting my hands on my lap, Dedov turning around to me with a curious face. "I can't have any animals with me at my apartment and because of a lot of things,"

"Why that?" He asked, starting to move towards a seat near the main couch. "Is this because you're not allowed to have animals in the place you're living?" I nodded.

"That but also because I can't let a little cat or puppy alone at my place while I'm away, my position isn't really helping me," I started, staying positive in my voice and gestures, feeling a bit sad to talk about it to him. "And also because I would have trouble to take care of an animal,"

"Like, you need someone else with you for that or...you want to have one but your current life isn't helping?" He guessed, me nodding at the second part of his question.

"Freya is there...well, not always here but our lives aren't allowing us to do that and even, I have to convince Freya about having either a cat or a puppy,"  I fully answered, my fingers tapping over my legs in a slow pace. "She's like me but she doesn't see the interest of having an animal with us, you know?" I added. "I don't want to force her much about this,"

"I understand," Dedov agreed, us both getting on the same line of thinking about that subject as he got himself comfy on his seat. "You know, I never thought that Freya was Norwegian, her name wasn't sounding very Russian to me," He commented.

"Yes, she is, Norwegian at heart," I smiled, just by thinking about it. "Even if she's been working with Perseus since we're been raised together by him, she's a patriot, she doesn't want to see Scandinavia getting caught in the Cold War," I continued, giving a part of the vision on her actually.

"I see, seems normal," Dedov simply told, his face telling that talking about Freya wasn't in fact the best idea of the moment, maybe thinking that he wouldn't want to have her name pronounced. "To change, why...Uhm...why did you want to see Zasha?" They asked me, turning his head to perceive Beans coming from the kitchen and in my direction.

"To give them..." I moved my right arm to reach the inside of my jacket, grabbing a sort of white envelope in my hand. "To give to you two some money," I revealed, handing over the envelope to him.

"Uhm..." He was looking a bit hesitating to take it in his hands before he resigned himself to do so. "Why?" He asked, starting to open the envelope to see the money inside.

"Money isn't my reason to live and if I can secure better tomorrows for you & Zasha, I will," I admitted, joining my hands together while Beans was starting to caress herself along my feet. "I don't need too many things to live with,"

"Like...why you don't try to pleasure yourself?" He demanded, putting the envelope on the little brown table that was separating us, the sounds of the Soviet National Anthem emitting from the TV in a low tone. "I'm not saying that you shouldn't do this but...why you don't try to...you know what I mean..."

"I'm not a person that wants to show what she did, I just want to have a normal life," I replied, feeling Beans around my legs and prompting me to take her over my lap as she was insistent to get petted by me. "I can understand that my actions aren't the best for me, you ain't the only one who told me that: Freya, Perseus & even Zasha at some time," I added, gesturing with my left fingers for counting while my right hand was stroking Beans' head. "I know that I should profit from my life but can I really enjoy it when the person I'm working with is a terrorist?"

"I...I don't know," He said, having no answer to it as I thought, he couldn't tell me how. "Me, I know that living here in Moscow isn't the thing I want to do for the rest of my life," He proclaimed, Beans moving her head towards him. "I want to go to Yale, Havard or better, Oxford," He told me.

"Western Universities?" He nodded at me.

"Hard to say but that's my dream," He claimed, smiling. "Zeze wants the 'best for their brother' as they sometimes said to Portnova but about that, it's a bit hard to make it true," He confessed, staying silent to listen to him. "What do you think about it?" He asked.

"I'm not the one to ask about something like this but yeah, I hope that you'll live your dream," I responded, trying to give my best opinion on the surprise question he asked me.. "Don't worry, Dedov, we'll find a solution for that," I said with a little smile to him before I looked at Beans, still caressing the top of her head as she was laid down on my lap.

"What do you think about it, our little Beans?"

I tried to not think about what was Park's reaction when my arms wrapped around her to give her cuddles to forgive myself but when I slowly opened my eyes in her direction, I was already feeling that something was wrong...my arms were both against the bed, wrapped around just nothing, my brain taking seconds to realize that Park wasn't here in the bed with me and in the seconds I realized that I was mixed between getting panicked or not...maybe that she was already prepared and taking breakfast, the time saying 8:24 AM.

Panic, not panic, panic, not panic...that's what I thought, and honestly, I shouldn't be panicking for that. So, after a bit of calming myself down a bit, I got up from the bed to get inside my clothes, using the same one I used last night when we had to move away in an emergency. Thinking about that while putting on my jeans was making me wonder how Zasha & Portnova will take the news, the bad having happened: Peter was missing and may be dead while Sarah was abducted by Perseus.

With a big deep breath once I put my light green jacket around me that I walk to open the door, getting out of the room to join up the others in the dining room but then...as I moved to the room and entering it, there was only Zasha present at the table with only their side of the table filled with cutlery and food as the other place were empty.

"Uhm...are you alone?" I asked them, looking around the room and to the living room part behind me, having seen no one except them here. "Where's Park? Portnova?"

"Portnova is still sleeping, she got a bad dream and I had to give her some water at 4 AM," They replied at first, sounding a bit low in their voice. "Very bad dream," They added.

"And...and Park?" I continued, my voice breaking down for that but also for hearing about Portnova, seeing that memory when I talked with her alone near the Moskova.

"You should sit down, okay?" Zasha proposed. "Have breakfast, will you?"

"Where's Park, Zasha?" I demanded, insisting on it despite their pleas before they moved away from their chair to face me.

"She's...she left earlier," They revealed, looking impossible for them to look at me in the eyes. "I tried to convince her to wait for you but she said that she got a call from the MI6, had to go before us," They added to their response, making me think that she probably didn't like my attitude with her last night.

"Shit, fuck," I cursed, shaking my head about that. "I'm going in too now," I said, starting to move to get to the front door before Zasha stepped in front of me.

"Yirina, you need to take breakfast and..." They started, moving their hands above my shoulders, wanting to say something else than this but..."Just sit down and eat something, would you?" They demanded at me, our eyes meeting again and pleading with mine.

"Fine," I sighed in a bad mood, turning around to walk towards the seat I'm always using, Zasha staying at their spot. "Did...did she told you about..." I sit on the chair, looking at them.

"Peter & Sarah?" They guessed, nodding at me. "Yeah, she did...fucking bad to hear that," They moved away to go back to their seat, my eyes crossing around the food they were having near them. "I just can't believe it,"

"I'm sorry," I apologized, my hands getting on the top of the table before crossing my arms. "Did you know if the two had families?" I asked them

"No, the two were mostly discreet in their personal lives, Peter was the one doing it the most," They responded, making me do a silent sigh away from them by looking down at my lap. "Even if we know each other since I became an MI6 agent, the two weren't willing to talk about them," They continued, crossing their arms like me.

"I'm sorry about having to make you learn that, Zed," I apologized again, tapping my fingers on my arms at a slow & silent pace, a silence coming between us that someone needed to break. "Uhm...I've got two memories back last night, you...do you want to know?" I changed the subject for the moment, unsure if the subject I chose was better.

"Tell," They simply said.

"The first one was talking with Portnova along the Moskova, only with her," I started, concentrating myself to remember it well. "She was scared about how things were happening days after...Dedov left," I added, seeing them froze in place at hearing their brother's name. "That's the first time I saw her cry in tears, it was troubling,"

"I know...she's never like that," Zasha exclaimed, their voice sadder than ever at saying it.

"The second one....it's Dedov," I admitted, thinking that I shouldn't be talking of Dedov with Zasha, knowing the current state of Dedov now. "We talked about you, things and...yeah, we talked," I breathed, stopping myself in my words, looking at Zasha who was saddened of hearing more & more about Dedov, remembering the moment I told them of Dedov's state. "My night was hard to live, things are still shitty, I didn't talk to Park at all since we left Peter's place and I'm feeling bad about a lot of things, a fucking lot," I said, holding back my tears inside of me and moving my arms on my lap.

"You don't need to..."

"Feel bad? Why shouldn't I be good?" I asked them, cutting them straight in their words. "No, I can't, I'm just trying my best to not convince myself to end the misery that I call my life," I told them like that, going up from my seat, without having eaten anything. "I want to save Dedov, to make Park & everyone happy and that we can destroy Perseus but my life is just getting resumed at reliving almost each night something that is saying that my life is filled with trauma, I'm going to live with that for months, even years," I raised up my voice as I moved to the front door, Zasha this time doing nothing to stop me.

"Yirina, I...you don't need to feel bad," They insisted, finishing their sentences that they couldn't finish. "I know the pain you're facing with...that brainwashing bullshit, we're all here for you,"

"Yeah but...I can't feel myself alone and each day, I'm getting lonely inside myself, discovering about who was 'Yirina Grigoriev' before she was left for dead on an airstrip in Turkey," I muttered, putting my hands on the front door handle to open it. "I'm holding my promises, don't worry, Zasha," I then opened the door, ready to leave for Century House before I turned around to look at them, a look of sadness on our both faces...

"I'm trying my best but I'm holding my promises to everyone,"

[thestarshipminestrone]

TELL US UR HOT DAGA FIX IT IDEA and also i am so excited to see an active hot daga blog in the year of our lord 2021.... thank you for all you do <333333

I'M SO GLAD THAT YOU'RE EXCITED TO SEE ONE!!! to be honest i'm just glad that people are actually interested in me keeping this blog active, and that my mutuals are still alive and well too. thank you for giving me motivation to keep making content <3

this has ended up as more of.. a pam analysis than a fix-it, but they tie in together at the "ANYWAY" so if you're looking for that, just skip to it :)

(there's more under this cut because it'll be long, but if you can't access it for any reason i'll be more than happy to message it to you. please also keep in mind that this is a LOT of pam apologism)

OKAY SO! it really all hinges on pam as a character and her development throughout the series and how that contrasts or goes along with the way that it works with other characters in the series. she’s a very complex character (something that doesn’t really need to be said; it’s pointed out in the show as well) and i find her arc incredibly interesting, especially because she is not... not a witch at the end of season 5 when she finally ends up being a semi-good guy.

pam is one of the oldest characters in the series both in age and in how long she's lasted as a character, just going off the fact that she was (a) around since the chili wars, (b) old enough to have a nephew ~about~ 20 years younger than her around the time of the time of the future, and (c) old enough for papa crab to recognize her from his vision of the crab joust.

this leaves a lot of space for her improvement! especially with the fact that we canonically have two timelines (the one where pam wins and the future happens, and the one where the joust is stopped). because we don't know that much about her life before she started serving the dark master, so i think... it kind of hinges on her involvement. we've never had the hotdaga without pam. even when she died, she turned around and became a ghost so she would still be around.

i think that, with the way she and mike acted around each other during the last few episodes of season five, there was a little more history there. this is where we get into my headcanon that mike and pam were actually friends after the time of the chili wars but before she found the dark master.

mike knows her. he's seen her at the wedding and knows about her involvement in the larger plot from gene and maizey (assuming they told him, which i think they did) but he doesn't hold any resentment? usually he's the first person to get up and go "hey, what you're doing is fucked up and i'm not happy with it."

obviously, since he never interacts with goondis on-screen before season five, it's a big hard to get a handle on his behaviour around old friends, but he doesn't seem to be... a fairly forgiving person.

this leads into how pam is... not really a bad person throughout the hotdaga. for sure, she does many, many bad things over the course of the series, but she is not... bad. she merely seems to be desensitized to violence.

combine that with the fact that many--if not all--the main characters in the hotdaga are fairly morally grey, you have a good setup for an interesting story.

ANYWAY. pam goes back in time with maizey on the minestrone to herself on the outer edge of the galaxy, meeting one of the other characters for the first time, but in the landing they were separated from the minestrone and need to get back without anyone noticing that they're around. this is... hard however, because there aren't a lot of people around but it is incredibly quiet and any movement is echoed around the small town and the scrap metal it's made of.

the minestrone is quite beat up from losing mike and goondis, and tired from the whole journey, so she misses again, and ends up going back and forth through pam's life up until the actual wedding. reflecting on her... what she stood for and stands for currently, the nothingness that could be the future, etc.

she's got!! layers,,, i love her. miss her.

[alysmarylin]

The war is over, my love is not

The second part of a fic about Crowley and Aziraphale during World War II, the first part is here (sorry, don't know how to insert proper links):

In this fic Aziraphale and Crowley meet for the first time since 1941 among ruins of Berlin. I'm a Russian myself and I entertained a thought that Crowley made friends with Soviet soldiers.

Aziraphale could smell the scent of Death in the air. He'd been on Earth since the very beginning of time, and he'd seen just as many deaths as anyone could. But it was different there, in ruins of Berlin, where bodies piled up among rocks and metal and ragged cloth. He knew, reasonably, that if the world was about to end, he'd be notified. It wasn't a horseman on a paled mare whose name was Death, not yet - it was nothing but works of Man. And yet, if felt like the end of the world. He was an angel, but even he started to fear that God wasn't there anymore.

Aziraphale came there by the end of April, out of his own will, wishing to help as many souls reach Heaven as he could. He filled those dying of despair and dread with hope and forgiveness, he eased the pain of children he couldn't save, he gave heartbroken mothers' souls respite, he healed festered wounds of those whose flesh was torn apart and rotting.

He wished he could've ended it all, long before it came to that, but one angel couldn't stop the madness of a Mankind, and God... God was silent.

"Animals don't kill each other with clever machines, angel, only humans do that" - he heard Crowley's words inside his head. Oh, to think he believed the guilliotine was the worst they could do... Crowley always turned out to be right. Aziraphale would get angry at him, but in the end, he'd always be right. Last time he saw Crowley, in 1941, they both thought they've already seen butchery and unmatched atrocities. That was before Auschwitz. He wondered, what Crowley would've said about Auschwitz. He wondered where Crowley was.

"Maybe I should've told him".

He often wondered if it was his love for Crowley that kept him going for past 4 years. He'd seen a lot of things that made it hard to still love humanity, or trust God with his ineffable plan. But his will to see Crowley once again - to take him for a long walk or to a dinner out, or just to look at him from afar, made it all worth surviving. Even what he'd seen in Poland. One could never forget those kinds of things...

His eyes filled with tears, despite his best efforts. If only tears of angel could heal the humanity, or just one single human soul.

He walked further from the ruins towards the street, when he hears a sudden noise that broke the silence. Aziraphale stopped.

That was a tank driving down the street, men speaking and laughing in some foreign language. Russians? Might be. It was a time for their victory, after all. It was their time to celebrate and laugh, before they come back to their ravished homes to cry once again.

Suddenly, the tank stopped and one man took off and walked down the street. Other men waved him goodbye as they moved forward.

The man seemed healthy enough to walk, and as far as Aziraphale could see, there was no blood on his face or his clothes. He was dressed in grey or dusty black, and his clothes seemed ragged and dirty, but so was everything else - there was nothing but dirt and blood and ashes around them. The man was walking towards him. His face was covered in dirt as well. And then, as sun came out from the clouds and lighted the entire street, the man's hair shone with flaming red tounges of fire underneath all the filth that covered it.

"A redhead", Aziraphale thought. "It's well past time I stopped shivering at every readheaded man I see". But he couldn't help it. He couldn't take that picture out of his head. And then he heard man's voice.

- You really don't change, angel. All that wreckage around and you're all in white.

He didn't want to believe his ears or eyes. He had already been mistaken for a couple of times before, and that bitter realisation had always been way more painful than no hope at all.

But it was unmistakenly Crowley, thinner than ever, in ragged clothes, white teeth shining like angel's wing, as he was grinning mischovously. His red hair was a huge mess, he was covered in dust, but he still managed to wear dark glasses in all this poorest state of affaies.

- Show me your eyes. - Aziraphale mumbled. - I want to know I'm not hallucinating.

- They shouldn't be surprised to see snaky-eyed lad after what they've done themselves, angel. - Crowley took his glasses off, but then put them back within a moment. - But I still prefer my privacy.

- Oh, Crowley! - Aziraphale grabbed him in his arms, unable to hold tears anymore. - I'm so glad to see you. I've seen such horror, I've.... I've been here since April, and I was in Poland before that, and I almost lost my faith...

- Come on, don't be like that. - Crowley gently pushed him away. - I can't blame you for your tears, though. There were things that could make Satan himself tremble. But it's not demonic work, of that I can assure you.

- I know. Works of Man. Our Lord's most beloved creation. - Aziraphale was well past the point when he blamed Hell for human atrocities.

- Well, I guess it's almost over now. - Crowley gently put his arm on angel's shoulder. - I was planning to go home soon enough.

- Home?

- London, not Hell. You wanna go with me?

Aziraphale felt bad for feeling so much joy amidst such destruction, and yet he couldn't help but smile.

- I do. I haven't been there in a while. The place I lived in was destroyed. My bookshop, though - I hope it's alright.

- I'll have to find myself a new place. Maybe you could give me some advice, I haven't been to England since I left in 1941. I left my Bentley in Paris, in some reliable hands. Well, I hope they're reliable. I have to believe car's fine, or else I won't forgive myself.

- I bet there's not a scratch on it. - Aziraphale smiled. He told himself he'd use all his powers if something happened to Crowley's car. - We can drive home together, if you wish.

- I don't think it's safe, angel. We'd better meet in London. At least there IS London to meet in. - Crowley smiled.

They walked past ruins, as sun was setting down.

- Those soldiers, - Aziraphale asked - That dropped you off... You spoke their language? You speak Russian?

- Why act all surprised? - Crowley sounded a bit offended. - I speak a number of languages, I've been there for a while, you know. Not that I'm fluent or anything, but I made it clear I'm not a German, for a start.

- Have you been there? On Eastern front? - One thing Aziraphale knew of Eastern front, is that young boys came back all white-haired from there, if they were lucky, or unlucky enough to survive it.

- For a while. I've been to a number of places. Not that I want to recall it now, when all this is over.

They reached the crossroads, and Crowley stopped.

- You're here to help people find their final peace, aren't you? - Crowley asked.

- I am. And you? I wonder if Hell still has any work to do, given the...

- I'll just make sure right people will make it to Hell. - Crowley smirked. - That's about all I can do now.

- I hope I'll be back in London by September. If my bookshop is still there, I'll be waiting for you to come. If not...

- I'll find you anyway, mr. Fell. Such a neat surname you made yourself - Fell. But you didn't fall, it's me who fell, no? - Crowley asked teasingly.

- I was never as good as you at making up names, Anthony J. - Aziraphale replied - If you're so good at searching for people, then I'll see you soon.

- Bye, angel. See you.

Crowley turned around and started walking down the street, his tall figure looking completely black in setting sun. Before Aziraphale could make himself start walking away, Crowley suddenly turned around and shouted:

- I told you we'd win!

, before disappearing completely.

He was right, Aziraphale thought. The nightmare of war was almost over. He was daydreaming of them, meeting once again in London, when he saw a tank driving down the street in his direction.

"It way be foolish of me, but..."

He took a bunch of flowers from inside his jacket - a miracle too minor to be noted - and threw it to the soldiers sitting on the tank. He didn't understand what they said - unlike Crowley, he didn't know a word in Russian - but they smiled at him, and Aziraphale laughed himself, for the first time in 6 years.

[animorphsfanfic]

In the first books, there is the Andalites vs Yeerks as Good Guys vs Bad Guys. When Tobias becomes a hawk, they assume the Andalites can fix him. Most of their missions early on are meant to cause delays and chaos. They're not trying to win the war, they're just trying to be disruptive until the Andalites can come and save them. By 18, we see the Andalites as less-than-ideal saviors. By the HBC, we see more of Andalite imperialism and the lines they've crossed in the Yeerk war. By 36, we are very sure the Andalites aren't the benevolent race we thought they were in the first book, to the point where the idea of more Andalites coming is seen as a problem rather than help. That ends up becoming a big deal in 52-54. But that the series moves from a good vs bad archetype at the beginning to a moral complexity encompassing shades of grey, I don't think that's a secret. There most definitely is a tonal shift. The series gets darker during the David saga in 20-22, the series gets darker in HBC, and after 35 & Visser.

And I can definitely see the early books being a bit more fun. There is is bit of a Saturday morning cartoon vibe to a lot of the series. If you personally didn't care for the series getting darker, that's fine. Even when the series gets really dark, it does sorta keep some of the cartoon vibe, but it adds in more cynicism and introspection. Like how MASH was able to be comedy while still being maudlin and tragic.

Personally, my biggest gripe with the series wasn't the tonal shifts. It was the Helmacrons. Okay, fine, not just the Helmacrons, but those little blighters were symptomatic of the series' trend to do monster-of-the-week adventures. It wasn't just Animorphs. Buffy did it. Smallville did it. A lot of the Animorphs plots were shameless rehashing of Star Trek plots (which KAA and MG openly admit). You could drop 20 books from the series and the narrative arc would more or less still be there. I get that that particular issue was because the series was contracted as a monthly title, but they got into some really weird throwaway adventures.

All this said though, a lot happens in the last run of the series. The series might be totally different in the last dozen books, and at least part of that may be attributed to the ghostwriters, but all the same, I do think if you've read up to 42, the series is worth finishing.

If you don't mind a respectful disagreement, as a kid I did notice a tonal soft, although maybe it wasn't obvious? But I cancelled my subscription at uh.... 42, mostly because I Could Not Deal with a second helmacrons book, but also I was no longer finding them something I looked forward to reading. I can't tell you where, exactly, it happened but it was after 33. The first books are definitely lighter tone than the middle, and the last books are much darker, to me at least.

FASCINATING. What do other people think?