#this is of course canon divergent

[microknifeyuri]

Mephone4 they could never make me hate you

[alexxuun]

Somewhere in another timeline… another another timeline. Jayce survived, but at the cost of losing everything.

I’ve been haunted by thoughts about the other universe Jayce that we never got to see. As much as I believe he died in that universe, I can’t stop thinking about a what if where Jayce did survive. Headcanon stuff below⬇️

-Jayce survived the explosion in some miraculous way, injured but breathing. The explosion killed Vi and injured Cait.

-Jayce’s trial sentences him to exiled, losing his house name and all his research to be destroyed, as well as stricter rule implemented within the academy on research.

-No undercity search as a kid from the undercity died and the council would rather swept the incident under the rug.

-Jayce successfully jumped from his lab but wake up in the hospital with his lower body paralysed.

-after recovering and losing functionality in his legs, Jayce move to (soon to be) Zaun with Ximena, despite his protests for her to stay in Piltover.

-He lived as a dead man walking. His dream gone and his guilt eats him up every day for killing a kid, nearly killed a kid he knows, whether intentional or not.

-He goes to make amend with the family of the kid he killed, in anyway he can helped. Powder was resentful of him but seeing something familiar within the broken man reflecting back at her, a bond was form between the two. (An explotion,a jinx)

-Jayce live in the shadow within the newly formed Zaun as a prosthetic & disability aids specialist, built his own wheelchair and whatever needed to make Zaun more accessible.

-No passion, no dream. The only thing that keep him alive is wanting to be helpful.

(and of course, 10 years after the explosion, someone from the academy seeks him out. A wrist band with a stone imbedded and a journal with the Talis house symbol in hand.)

Edit: also hugely inspired by this fic that basically gave me every ideas for this. Please check it out if you want some post-canon Jayvik.

The saved and the damned by Lapsi

[kat1nkulta]

I can’t stop thinking about Loop. Imagine doing everything, anything, to get out of a traumatic situation but the price is you. Your body is gone, your name is gone, your family doesn’t recognize you, you feel like most of your memories of them are gone too anyway. Suddenly you’re denied your identity. It’s like YOU never existed… and someone else took your place. You, whose biggest fears are forgetting and being forgotten in turn. You, who’s hesitant to change and now you’re forced to. You can’t even really blame anyone else because you did get your wish, right?

It’s explained clearly in the game, but the implications of it just hit me extra hard sometimes. Siffrin is as much of a study of Loop as Loop is of Siffrin. They share(d) their fears too so mal du pays words essentially becoming the truth to Loop is just… 🪨🪨🪨🙁🙁🙁💥💥💥💥

What do you do when all you have is ripped from you, all your worst fears come true, and youre forced to just… come to terms with it?

[screwpinecaprice]

Although I barely make content for my connverse kids, there is a series of headcanons it's storyline follows so might as well jot it down. ¯⁠\⁠( ⁠•́⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠•̀⁠ )⁠/⁠¯

I headcanon that Steven isn't really immortal and that the Pink Diamond Gem will become an heirloom of sorts.

I headcanon that each of the Diamonds is some kind of representation or parallel to what forms the Universe. I don't know what the others could be, but Pink is the organic parts. Organic creatures, specially the sentient/sapient kind, is a rarity in the vast ocean of space, which was why she's the smallest.

Her affiliation to organics made her much more sympathetic and fascinated with them, and she was captivated with humans the most. Eventually, after living with them and her envy and wonder for them grew, she had the desire to be one. Or rather, something deep in her gem wanted to.

While she can make a baby without giving up her form, she chose to sacrifice herself so the gem can be passed down to Steven.

However, as Pink/Rose and Greg are different species, there had been an inconvenience. The offspring exists, but the gem and organic connection is imperfect and unstable.* The gem needs to develop it's connection to the physical body more. This can be done by letting the body naturally learn to adapt to the gem/magic, then passing both the gem and the DNA (with that learned knowledge) down to the next generation; who's physically more capable of hosting the diamond. The result is not instantaneous so it's going to take a number of generations before the gem and body becomes perfectly fused. (Slow burn route, babyyyy)

Passing down the gem can be done in two ways.

One is the natural way: by giving birth to the child with the gem intact. Of course, this will cause the parent to die. (There miiight be a chance they will still live despite now not having a gem, if they have the technology for it. But it can get trickier down the line as the body and gem becomes more connected.)

The alternate instance the gem can be passed down is when the current keeper becomes deceased and their "Pink Form" (like the Pink Steven in Change Your Mind) appears. They will guard the gem until a progeny claims it. There's a possibility the gem rejects the new body though.

There's a cool down after the gem is passed down. Of course, that and how mentally ready the person is can affect how long the cool down lasts. (Which was why Steven's gem powers didn't come out sooner.)

I was thinking about when you inherit the gem in the second way, how part of the cool down works is that you can still see the prior host as an apparition others can't see. They can talk to you and stuff. (Guide you? Torment you? Be your friend? Idk) But they can't really interact with anything else. They disappear when the new host (keeper?) is fully mentally ready to take in the gem.

*I was wondering also. Either conveniently or by design, Steven has a positive disposition as a lower morale can disrupt the gem's balanced state. Unfortunately for our boi, he's the first meat host, so he has to learn how to keep a stable mind the hardest. 😞

[rainbowr0ses]

a wreck-it-Ralph Sherbverse au would kinda go hard ngl. I mean they gave us a really big hallway with a lot of gateways to other worlds/(games if we’re getting meta about it). that’s literally just the world port. AND we can sandbox it

[greenleaf4stuff]

The game is Seven Minutes in Heaven. Which two characters are you shoving in the closet together and how do they pass their seven minutes? Give me three rounds of this game (three pairings, repeats ok)

Hi @whenimaunicorn and thank you so much for your ask! :D Oh that is a very interesting thing to consider. I slightly deviated from the original premise in the 1st one I think, I hope that's okay! Also this got a little longer than I anticipated, so I am using a cut to put my ideas behind to protect everyone else's dashboards.

The pairings are:

Adar/Celebrimbor (canon divergence!AU)

Adar/Elrond (modern!AU)

Adar/Celebrimbor (modern!AU)

Adar/Celebrimbor (canon divergence!AU)

They end up hiding in a storage closet/ shove themselves into a tiny space together while hiding from Sauron as they try to flee Eregion together; Adar has snuck into the city to steal the elf right from under Sauron's nose and Brimby has been *very* happy to go with him. 'You don't have to carry me, I'll come willingly. In fact, we should hurry up, I know a way we can take-'

They have to wait out guards and a pissed off Sauron hurrying by the closet multiple times, the shouting outside getting increasingly loud and strained with anger.

Adar is trying to keep the smith quiet, maybe he even places a hand over his mouth and steps close to stop him from wriggling around so much. They cannot get caught! Meanwhile Celebrimbor is so very intrigued by the mysterious 'elf' who has just saved him and tries to figure out who he is, and also cannot help realising the other is both attractive and has a good physique under that armor. They are squished together okay, it's not like he can help taking notice!

Adar also cannot help but realise the elven smith's pretty haircolor, the warmth of his eyes, the strength of his grip as he clings onto Adar. That the other didn't hesitate or argue but came with him. Other elves certainly wouldn't have been so reasonable.

They are both a bit flustered when they can finally leave the closet and quickly hurry along to get out of the city. But the stint in the closet keeps lingering in their minds even as they make a break for the relative safety of the uruk army.

Adar/Elrond (modern!AU)

They both aren't sure how they got chosen to get shoved into that closet together, certainly both Gil-Galad and Galadriel aren't entirely happy about it. Adar knows he'll have to fear bodily harm if he makes a wrong move but he actually-kinda-maybe has a crush on Elrond? The other is just so kind, and smart, and sharp-witted. And also pretty. Also flirting him with makes Adar feel giddy inside; Elrond hasn't told him to stop and actually reacts with blushes and smiles when Adar does it.

Elrond is desperately trying to play it cool but it's not easy - Adar is attractive, and so cool with his whole rebellious getup; the leather jacket and metal band t-shirt and long dark hair and how he's unafraid to mouth off at anyone who tries to argue with/antagonize him. But he's treating Elrond like an equal and takes him seriously where others might remark on his half-elven parentage for example.

They try to wait it out, make light of the situation. Elrond makes awkward jokes, Adar's jokes accidentally get way too flirty due to nervousness, after a short while they do end up staring at each other's lips and it's Elrond going 'I can play it off as part of the party game if he doesn't want me' and then they kiss.

...the elves eventually have to investigate because those two are *not* leaving that closet again. For the sake of their sanity, they leave the two in peace. It's Brimby and Círdan who mutter "finally" to the shock of the others.

Adar/Celebrimbor (modern!AU)

People think it's funny, to put resident-rebel Adar and prim-and-proper Celebrimbor in the closet for Seven Minutes of Heaven together. It's good natured fun! Totally hilarious! They are going to be so flustered (Brimby) - or annoyed (Adar).

Instead, Adar is kinda flustered because he actually likes Celebrimbor and admires his skills, his wit, his kindness. But the smith would never be into him like that, right? Meanwhile Celebrimbor is all serene, makes a joke about how 'cozy' the closet is, then walks over to Adar and essentially goes 'I think we are supposed to kiss. Do you want to?'

Adar has a bit of a bluescreen moment, is a bit skeptical at first, but when Celebrimbor holds his gaze and smiles encouragingly he agrees. They kiss. It's *really* nice.

Adar is a bit flushed at the end of it. Brimby breaks the kiss, also affected, but then puts on a mischievious grin. And suggests they should pretend that nothing happened, act completely clueless and as if they just chatted. Because that the faces of the others will be priceless.

The uruk thinks he likes where this is going, and agrees.

Everyone else is sooo disappointed! The two of them smirk knowingly at each other later on though.

'Maybe our next kiss can be outside a closet?' Adar suggests. Brimby smirks back at him and agrees enthusiastically.

[mobius-m-mobius]

trick or treat! 🎃

Treats galore!! 🎃🥰

Honestly your art is such a standout picking a favorite is pretty much impossible, but with how recently you've been drawing the Avengers AU I was inspired by one of your pieces of Loki and Mobius at the NY gala ft. a bonus line from the accompanying fic by @in-my-loki-feels of course!

[wildmtthyme]

Home, Sweet Home

Eight years is a long time. Simon knew he should stay away but betrayal stings and panic drives him to go to the only place that has ever felt like home. The fact that he still knows it makes his chest tighten. The fact that she's still there makes him wilt. The fact that she's still waiting breaks his heart even more.

Or...

Ghost and Johnny need somewhere to hide in Las Almas when the shit hits the fan. If only for the night. Ghost knows where they can go... but it would mean opening the door on a past that he'd walked away from so many years ago.

SFW but slight warning on language and gore? Depictions/descriptions of canon-level injuries. Non-canon injuries. Spanish speaking Ghost. Tumblr only drabble. *I pulled the Spanish from memory so it's rusty, some might be a little wrong but oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And yes... this is what counts as a drabble for me. -sigh- I might continue this when I have the motivation to.

Soap squinted slightly as he studied Ghost in the fell light of the belly of the carrier they were in, steadily making their way towards the airfield in Mexico. Price’s words over their coms when they were getting ready to leave still making him wonder. You going to be alright going back there, Ghost? And Ghost’s deadpan reply of Yes Sir. That had given him no clue as to what Price had been talking about. He knew that Ghost had history with Mexico as a whole but not with Las Almas in particular. It wasn’t the last time he wondered that on this mission. There were quite a few times he caught the elusive and closed off Lieutenant seeming to slip into an even more stoic sort of thought, gazing off into a distance he couldn’t see himself before he seemed to snap back to this reality and act as if that hadn’t happened.

Simon felt uneasy on Mexican soil, he always would. For a variety of reasons. When they landed in Las Almas… he knew questions were growing in quite a few minds at the familiarity between himself and Rudy. The way the man didn’t just shake his hand. How he clapped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze and saying it’s good to see you again, hermano. Simon had just nodded. He couldn’t reply for the nerves that spiked inside him. Rudy was a part of a life he no longer had. And he didn’t want to answer questions about it. He was hoping he could fly under that particular radar while he was in Las Almas. But when the shit hit the fan… well… he stopped caring about a lot of those nerves.

Soap listened as Ghost guided him through the streets of Las Almas… the darkened alleyways were like a maze to him but Ghost seemed to know them intimately. He led him through twists and turns, guided him along all the while his shoulder screamed at him from the bullet that grazed the muscle. He had no idea where Ghost was leading him… but he didn’t have much of a choice except to follow his cryptic instructions. Shadows were everywhere, looking for both Ghost and himself. Things were going from bad to worse as he heard the screams, the shouts, the citizens of this town taking the fall for his and Ghost’s escape.

Simon knew he shouldn’t… he knew he should get the hell out of town, get to Alejandro’s safe-house. But he couldn’t leave without Soap. And the shot he took to the thigh was slowing him down in the worst possible way. He knew he had to get it out before he could make any kind of trip. Alejandro’s safe-house was a few clicks outside the city and there was no way he was going to make that distance if he was bleeding out the way he was. He knew he shouldn’t. But he did anyway. He slunk through the shadows… guiding Soap through their personal com channel to the same place he was currently approaching. He gave him the final instruction before he snuck up the covered stairway… his gloved hands easing the rug out of the way, shaking his head with a deep frown at the key he found laying there.

How many times had he told her to not hide a key under the bloody mat. He eased the key into the metal door’s lock, at least she kept the bars on the doors and windows; though, she’d hated it when he had them installed. He turned the knob on the interior door and winced when it clicked, seemingly so loud. There weren’t any lights on inside, but that didn’t mean anything. He shut and locked everything behind him… only a foot in and he heard the unmistakable click of a gun, felt the press of a barrel into the side of his damned neck. His eyes cut over and he swallowed down a whole mess of… god… so much. She was just as stunning as he remembered. No… even more so. “Easy with that, love.” Her expression shifted in a heartbeat… from fierce and threatening to stunned. She pulled the gun away, he heard the hammer disengage… the safety click on… and watched as she stepped away from him, nearly staggering back into the small kitchen table that he’d bought for her when they moved in here. Simón… she whispered his name, as if she couldn’t believe it. He stood up fully, his height always imposing. He nodded, looking down at her. His fingers itched with the urge to reach for her. He blinked sharp as he swayed back a half step… her violent shove the reason. The fuck are you doing here! She hissed at him, luckily not yelling. This shit all about you?! Is that why these gringos are fucking around tonight?! He sighed and she just groaned, holding her hand up, that gun still in it as if she were done and walking away from him. His eyes flew down her unbidden… from her worn old T-shirt to her jean cut-offs… she was… so damned beautiful. “Needed somewhere safe to go before heading out of the city.” He found himself murmuring, not because he had to be quiet but because he felt like a damned dog with his tail tucked.

So, you brought this to my door? She had set the gun in a cabinet, shutting it away before shooting him a glare. Eight years and nada… but now, now you decide is time to come home? He clinched his jaw to hold back a sigh… and silence the stab of pain that word caused. Home. His eyes flicked around… the place looked a little different but not by much. Nothing much changed in Las Almas, that much he was learning quickly. “Can we stay here tonight?” He swallowed against a growing lump in his throat. She raised a dark brow at him, her arms folding over her chest, her hip jutting out. We? Who the fuck is we? His sigh slipped past this time… and he saw her immediate response. Her lips pressed into a thin, hard line. He did not want to deal with her attitude right now… his thigh was starting to cramp… and he was sure there was a small pool of blood starting to form under his boot. He was about to answer when he heard Soap through his coms. Metal door, this the place. He heard the echo just behind him and he turned, opening her door even though he heard her go off in a hiss. Pinche-cabron. He eased the metal door open, letting a confused and injured Soap inside.

Johnny glanced at Ghost but immediately saw the woman standing just there past the pass-through to the kitchen in the hall. She looked livid… but kind of not? He wasn’t sure. She looked between him and Ghost once he was inside and the doors were once again locked. Well, this is just great, Simón… now I have two big ass gringos bleeding in my house. She made a sound and waved behind her as she started down the hall away from them. Sit down before you fall down, I’ll get the kit. She muttered to herself, quite a few curse words in Spanish that he recognized as she vanished into the darkness. He looked up at Ghost. “Simon.” He said simply… there was a question in the word but the LT ignored him and limped a little, moving past him and over to the dinning room where he pulled out a chair and eased himself down, letting his leg stretch out.

Simon ignored Soap’s questioning look and the man followed, sitting in the closest chair. He was struggling with a lot in his head at the moment… and her statement reminded him of what he should have thought of in the first place. Soap and him being here put her in very real danger. But in his weakness… his moment of betrayal and panic… he just thought of the one place he could go that was safe. Home. It struck him then that his mind still thought of this place as that. She returned a moment later carrying a first aid kit… she set it down with a snap, her jaw tight as she reached for a box of matches on the table and flicked one to light the candle there. The soft glow was the only light she was affording. She looked at Soap and kicked her chin in his direction. How bad?

Soap watched the woman… she was… a total knockout if he were being honest. Tan skin and dark hair, obviously a native. Beautiful. Long legs… and… he knew his mind was seeking out anything to focus on other than the burning in his arm. Sure, he’d been shot before but it never made it hurt any less. He started working his vest off, wincing slightly around his eyes. “Jus’ a graze, hen… nuthin’ major.” He saw Ghost sit up a little straighter, take in a little more air when he called her ‘hen’… he wanted to smirk, the man giving him a little information without even trying to. She opened the box and pulled out a bottle of alcohol and some gauze, some gauze tape and set it on the table in front of him. And you. He pulled his shirt off, his eyes flicking between what he was doing and her interaction with Ghost, fighting another smirk as she poked the imposing LT in the chest. What has you bleeding on my floor?

Simon looked up at her and saw her brown eyes swimming in worry… worry she was trying to hide. He sighed and shook his head. “Is nuthin’. Jus’ need—” You think you can lie to me? She cut him off with a hardened tone. He sighed again before he froze… feeling her hand under his chin, making him look at her again. You wearin’ this calacas like it’s dia de los Muertos. Like you some dios de los Muertos. She removed her hand and focused back down at the box, sorting through some of the remaining first aid supplies. Take that thing off and answer me, the truth this time. He stilled… his eyes flicking from her to Soap, who was now cleaning the swipe on his arm with a slight grimace around his eyes, but the man had stilled too… his eyes not looking at him but he knew he was focused out of his peripheral. Waiting to see what he was going to do. He swallowed tensely before he spoke. “Can’t do tha’, love. It stays on.” She blinked rapidly before looking at him again, more pointedly this time, her hip shifting as he saw her clinch a muscle in her jaw. She opened her mouth but he hissed. “Es definito.” He spoke firmly, his voice taking on a growl as he held her gaze with that same firmness.

She pursed her lips, rolling around her words no doubt before she dropped some of the first aid supplies down with a slap. You wanna be stubborn, burro. Fine. She snapped at him before she dropped to a knee, hard. Her hands reaching for his belt, he jerked slightly but didn’t move otherwise. Bleeding all over my clean floor, acting all big and bad with your estupido gringo friend… she was muttering at him, he could hear the heat in her words and he flexed his thigh on purpose, the pain keeping his cock from reacting to her close proximity and the fact that he’d always found her even more attractive when she was angry. He pushed his hands down on the chair, letting her jerk his jeans down, quickly tugging his boxers back up into position while she pulled his jeans down to his ankles. He wanted to quip at her but with Soap paying such close attention… he couldn’t. Wasn’t the best idea anyway. She paused when her eyes locked on the wound… he heard her mutter quieter under her breath, still angry… but he couldn’t make out her words anymore.

She rose up onto her knees and tugged a headlamp out of the box, grabbing the bottle of alcohol off the table now that Soap was done with it… some gauze… and started making a proper mess. She cleaned her hands and then doused the wound. His muscle jumped and he clinched his teeth. She pulled the headlamp on and grabbed a pair of forceps from the kit… dipped them into the bottle of alcohol and swirled them around before she slotted herself between his legs, having to climb into the valley created by his jeans. It was… oddly intimate… and he knew it spoke volumes to how close they were… or rather, once were. Soap cleared his throat as he set the tape down, having finished bandaging his arm. Bathroom? “Down tha hall.” They both said in unison and Soap paused over that but otherwise made his way quietly away from them.

Johnny glanced over his shoulder once he was in the hallway… watching as that woman started digging around in Ghost’s leg for the bullet that was no doubt lodged in there. Ghost tensed up… hissed and he saw her set her hand further up on his thigh. Shh, big baby. Ghost chuckled low. Tha hand’s not exactly helpin’, love. She rolled her eyes and continued working. It was clear that they knew each other on a more… intimate level. But how intimate was the question. Was this a girl that Ghost had met while they were here? He hadn’t spent every single moment with the LT while they’d been here. But somehow… it seemed… like an older thing? He wasn’t sure. He went down the hall and found the bathroom, was pretty easy to do since there were only two doors. One to an obvious bedroom and one to a bathroom. He used it and washed his hands before quietly heading back out.

He didn’t return to the dining room though, having walked back into the main living area just in time to hear the sound of metal hitting the tabletop, the bullet rolling a little as it did. He went into the living room instead, settling down slowly onto the couch with a heavy sigh. His bones were tired. He let his eyes lazily move around the room… and they landed on an older style entertainment center… the top of which was littered with clutter. A statue of the Virgin Mary… some candles that weren’t lit… and pictures in cheap gold frames. One he spotted right away, it seemed to jump right out at him. Not because of her… no… but the man with her. He was huge… much larger than she… and he had familiar brown eyes. But the white man with the sandy blonde hair was a stranger otherwise. He had a crooked nose, a scar that bisected both of his lips in a single swipe… another on his chin… but those lips were crooked in a grin. And he was holding her in his lap sitting in the sand on some beach. His eyes moved quicker now, over the photos that held a lot of people he obviously didn’t recognize, until he saw another one with the man. This one was like the clue that cracked a case wide open. He was standing in front of a small chapel… wearing a uniform, younger… and there she was beside him, her dress white, a lace veil around her face, and he had her pulled in under his arm like that was where he always wanted her to be.

Johnny couldn’t help but look over his shoulder at the LT now… and it just clicked. Holy Shit, he thought. This wasn’t just some girl. This was the LT’s wife. No wonder she poked at him… she knew him… in pretty much every way. But… there was a strange distance between them now. Something had happened… something changed between them. Something that made Ghost come here on a plane with him and not come straight here to this apartment. Soap desperately wanted to know what that was… but he knew better than to ask. And frankly, at the moment, he was too damned tired to care.

Simon watched her as she stitched him up… her steady hands and unyielding focus hadn’t changed at all. He couldn’t stop his gloved hand from reaching, brushing some of her hair back behind her shoulder where it had been before it had slid off. She paused, froze for a heartbeat before continuing. Rudolpho said you were in town. He sighed quietly, watching as she dropped the needle back into the box and grabbed a tube of ointment. She dabbed it around the wound softly before laying a bandage over it. She stood up and stepped out of the trap his jeans created, clicking the light off before she did, plunging the place back into near darkness. “Rudy shouldn’t have said anything.” He muttered… he saw her shoulders tense… and felt the way his stomach dropped. She was quick about collecting the first aid supplies. There’s left overs in the fridge. You should shower… don’t get the stitches wet. He stood up, tugging his jeans back up and securing them… she hadn’t looked at him again and her words were uncharacteristically quiet. “Maria.” He breathed but she was already turning away from him and heading down the hall. I want you gone by dawn. She left him standing there like a jackass… and he felt like one, too. The tension thick around him. He sighed quietly before he turned into the kitchen and tugged the fridge open. He quickly made food for himself and Soap… he ate in the kitchen, hiding from his colleague.

Johnny ate the rice and meat quick, using the tortillas like bread… it was probably the wrong way but he didn’t care, he was starving. As soon as he was done, he took his plate into the kitchen, where Ghost was already rinsing his. He did the same but hovered there as the LT was fiddling with something on his vest. “So… she seems nice.” He said quietly, testing the waters. And the look Ghost shot him let him know that those waters were the fucking arctic ocean. He held his hands up a little in surrender. You take the couch. I’m gonna go shower. He nodded. “Prolly won’t be awake by the time you get out.” He said low as he passed the man, he could already feel his eyelids drooping. One of them should take watch but he was just exhausted. And frankly… they were pretty well hidden and out of the way.

Simon hung his head under the cold spray of the shower, opting for as little hot water as possible. He needed to clear his head, get it on right before he did something stupid. Something like what he was doing the moment he was dry and had that towel wrapped around his waist. He shut her bedroom door behind him, his eyes already on her. She wasn’t laying down… she was sitting on what had once been his side of the bed, her hands in her lap, her head bowed. Go away. She whispered it but he heard how thick her words were. He swallowed thickly and shook his head. He only hesitated for a second before he reached up and tugged his mask off, having put it back on once he was out of the shower. He laid it on top of what had once been their dresser… but was probably only full of her clothes now. He crossed the room and he was a few feet from her when she erupted out of her seating.

She flew at him, her hands pushing on his chest in a half-hearted, hurt-fueled… well, he hesitated to call it an attack for how she very quickly sagged against him. His arms went around her, hands spanning her back as he shushed her softly… her shoulders rocking as she wept so damned quietly. He felt his eyes stinging, his throat burning, his nose itching. He never could stand to see her cry. You left me here alone. He closed his eyes tight and bowed his head, pressing his lips into her crown and taking a deep breath, nodding silently. She started struggling again, her hands balling into fists against him, she wanted to hurt him… but she hadn’t the heart to, he knew that. But he still tightened his arms around her.

Eight years ago… he’d left. He knew he’d been a fool to marry her in the first place but… he’d fallen so damned hard for her. He wanted her in every way. But the past had a way of sneaking up on him… and it did. It did in so many ways. She weathered his night terrors, his panic attacks, his episodes of PTSD. She’d stuck by him through it all… and he pushed her away. He fought with himself… against himself. Simon wanted her… but Ghost wanted to protect her from everything, even himself. He wasn’t split but he was close. “Had to make sure you would be safe.” He said low and heard her scoff against his chest. That was why he’d left in the first place… but that wasn’t why he stayed away. What had kicked it off was her asking for something he never thought he could have… something he couldn’t give her. She wanted kids. And he told her no. He couldn’t tell her why, though. So… after so many fights… one morning, before she even woke up… he just left. He left to hunt down Roba.

And he did. It took him three years… but he did it. He found that son of a bitch and killed him. Made sure he couldn’t come after him or her… made sure he could, if he wanted, give her a family. That they’d be safe. But… but then he didn’t come back. He didn’t return to her. He just stayed gone. Because he was technically a war criminal. He was a murderer. What kind of husband was he, then? The kind that hunted men like they were dogs? The kind that strangled them with their own hands? The kind that could slit another man’s throat without a thought? What kind of husband is that? What kind of father is that? No kind she deserved. She deserved the best. And that wasn’t him.

He kept in contact with Rudy, though. Her brother. Just… just to make sure she was alright. He sent Rudy money to give her… because he knew she’d not take it from him. But he never divorced her… and she never asked for one. Rudy never mentioned any other men… but he was sure there had been some. Not that he’d taken another lover in all that time… never. Not once. He was faithful to her. Always had been and always would be. Even though he was sure she’d been with others… but Rudy never said… in fact… his eyes flicked around the room now… there wasn’t a single sign that anyone else had been here. Just her. His side of the bed was vacant… his end table was empty. Almost like… he shook his head slightly at himself. She wasn’t waiting for him to come back. It was impossible.

He guided her back to the bed slowly. “I’s late, love… le’s get some sleep.” He murmured and felt her nod. He pulled back the woven cotton blanket and sheets… guided her into them. He glanced down at his towel and frowned slightly. Still have some boxers in your drawer. He blinked at her… looked over at the dresser and walked over… his hand shook just a little as he tugged what had once been his undergarments drawer open. He let out a shallow breath. Everything was as he left it… down to the vacant spot of the last pair of socks he’d pulled out. He looked over his shoulder at her but she was on her side, facing away from him. Had… had she been just… waiting for him to come back? He swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly before he took off the towel and laid it on top of the dresser, grabbing a pair of boxers and shaking them out before putting them on. They were a little tight, him having gained some bulk since he was here last. Climbing back into the bed was surreal… but wrapping around her, pulling her into him in the middle of that queen-sized was… second nature. A second nature he thought he might have lost somewhere along the way.

Simon was up and dressed before the sun… looking down at her still sleeping form. He knew that if he left now… it’d hurt her in the worst way. So… against his better judgement- as far as the mission was concerned… he knelt in front of the mattress and reached, smoothing his still bare hand over her hair softly. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, locking on him in a sleepy haze. “Gotta move before the light.” He murmured out. He saw her chew on her lower lip but she nodded. Via con dios, Simón. He smirked and started to lean in but stilled, giving a slight shake of his head and started backing away only for her hand to snatch his collar and tug him towards her. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, feeling her lips collide with his. It wasn’t a matter of not thinking… he couldn’t think as he climbed onto the bed, covering her in a heartbeat… bullying his tongue into her mouth and kissing her with every ounce of longing that broke free upon feeling her lips against his again.

God damn, he’d missed her so much. He felt he wrap a leg around his, felt her arms snake around his neck and hold onto him so damned tight that her muscles were trembling. His cock screamed from disuse, begged against the zipper of his jeans… she was so damned close… and yet so far away. He took a gasping breath, breaking the kiss that stole his sanity. “Can’t.” He breathed out… pushing his hands down into the mattress to lift himself off of her. “Not yet.” He kissed her again, a shorter but no less heated one. She was panting, her lips tinged red from his stubble. He pressed his brow to hers, holding her eyes… watching as they turned glassy on him.

He shushed her softly, ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek. “Te amo, mi esposa.” He kissed her softer then, just a peck really but it was sweet. He caught a tear on her temple and wiped it away. You come back this time, Simón… or don’t ever come back. He gave a nod, hearing the seriousness in her words… and the warning. “I will.” And he meant it. He climbed off the bed and took a deep breath before he pulled his mask on… then his gloves, hiding himself away. He looked down at her… bending slightly to brush some of her hair off her brow. “Still so beau’iful.” He said low and felt her bat his hand away, a bashful sort of smirk on her face. He couldn’t help his own huff of a smirk. Still so full of ca-ca. He chuckled and made for the door. Him and Soap stole a truck on the street and were out of the city in no time, aiming for Alejandro’s safe-house. He ignored Soap’s probing gaze.

Getting Alejandro his base back… shutting Graves and his men down… it all took a lot longer than he’d planned. But it was done. As Price, Gaz, and Soap all readied to return home… he glanced over his shoulder at Rudy. The man was eyeballing him with a hardened look… he must have spoken with Maria. He sighed when Price nudged his shoulder. Let’s head out. “Not comin’.” He heard himself say. He looked back into Price’s suddenly very serious eyes. “Got some business to wrap up before I head back.” He took a breath. “If I head back.” Price’s jaw flexed. You know this isn’t over. He gave a slight nod. “It might be for me.” He said simply. Yeah, he knew that Markarov was at the root of this. Yeah, he knew that. But he also knew that there would always be a big bad guy at the center of it.

There would always be another enemy pointing a gun at the world. And there would always be another operative. It didn’t have to always be him. “I’ll let you know.” Price’s aw tensed again, his mustache flaring. The thing about being dead, like him… was that he technically wasn’t in the SAS. He technically wasn’t in anything. He was dead. Legally speaking. So, Price couldn’t order him onto that plane and Price knew it. I’ll be waiting for your word, then. He nodded and Price walked off, obviously angry… but he’d get over it. Or he wouldn’t. Simon couldn’t control that. He waved Gaz and Soap off before he turned around and gave a nod to Rudy. The look Rudy gave him was half approving and half relieved.

This time… the sun was out when he climbed the stairs to the apartment… and the door was open, though the metal door was still shut and auto-locked. He didn’t let himself in this time, though. He knocked… and waited.

To be continued… probably.

[non-un-topo]

Rating: M

Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Trans Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Trans Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Gender Identity, Crusades Era Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, No actual SA occurs, Canon-Typical Violence, POV First Person, just trust me though, Melodrama, gotta tag for that because i'm a dramatic person

Summary:

At first, there were only names. Yusuf of the Kaysanites, pious and sure and cunning like my merchant father before me. Yusuf, a strong, godly name, given and taken by no one but myself. It was the name with which I carried myself to my new life, to the walls of al-Quds. I could not have predicted, at the time, the violence that would befall her. Her, that was the land that was holy, and her, that was me. A merchant’s daughter from Mahdia, who carried an old sword and a new story.

[iniziare]

Reminder to self when I've done some more writing: Remind people that I'm canon-strict, what that means, and how I guess it means that I'm reclaiming yet another term that has been rendered as being something akin to negative by the masses. Better known as, a... 'lore purist'. Hi, yes, that's me! Hi, hello, my name is Sae, how do you do?

[possamble]

yes!!! getting good grade in farcille!!!

[angelsdean]

a silly inconsistency that drives me nuts is in after school special it's november 1997, which makes dean 18 going on 19 and he's still....in school ?? a 19 yr old wouldn't still be in high school unless he got held back (which, very likely for dean and moving around so much) except i don't believe he'd still keep bothering to go once he hit 18 and could instead be working somewhere to make money they desperately need. then there's the only-canon-when-i-feel-like-it John's Journal which says dean graduated high school at 18. and you know, i could actually see dean lying to john (who hasn't been around enough to know if dean's been going to school or not) and telling him he actually graduated but really he's been working part-time jobs this whole time. but dean actually still going to school in late-1997?? it's pushing my suspension of disbelief lol. like i could only see if really if he's like trying to keep an eye on sam and stuff. but even then i still think he'd prioritize making money over going to school esp after yrs of being made to feel like he's not smart enough

[mitsuki91]

(... Anyway I already have another idea for a Coriolanus Snow/Lucy Gray Baird fic, sigh. But I need to read the book first 😭😭😭 but this fic screams in my head 😭😭😭 How can I live like this...)

[dreamingthroughwords]

one thing abt me is no matter what i am always a post canon girlie at heart. like exploring the aftermath and peace once the adventure is done. how characters are still effected by the trauma and suffering they went through and it doesn’t leave just because the main story is finished. how characters are finally able to embrace tranquility and a life with each other. exploring how the adventure affected them, shaped them, brought them together. i just love exploring post canon ideas so much. because the actual story always ends and we never see the after - which is good because a finished story with a nice ending is 10/10. but we rarely get to see the after of that story, and i love exploring it so much

[bookishjules]

Luke raising Jonathan au is so galaxy brained omg. you're so right Luke would be the ideal person to raise him because he would do his best to fight his own biases and avoid treat him like a lost cause or broken. also the fact they both got turned into monsters by Valentine... the potential is crazy (now I can't stop thinking about this)

exactly!! and not only do we have their own similarities, as monsters and outcasts.. but also valentine's real son being raised by his own ex-parabatai being a mirror to his pseudo-son being raised by his psuedo-ex-parabatai? and then there's also some vague parallels with ash's storyline (even if we never get ash himself in this universe) with jonathan being under the protection and guardianship of his cruel father's brother figure. and idk something about valentine's kids being split up between his runaway wife and his scorned parabatai.. it just sits so nicely in my head.

[atopvisenyashill]

What if Rhaenyra and Alicent's children took after their mothers in appearances?

this is difficult for me bc the answer is “everything” and “nothing at all.”

rhaenyra has a much easier time convincing people the children are laenor’s bc the only evidence the greens & vaemond put forth is that they don’t look like laenor’s kids (which tbh, in a time before dna testing, saying “hey these kids look suspiciously like the mail man i mean the captain of the guard” is great evidence). if the three oldest LOOK Valyrian, then not only is Rhaenyra’s reputation much better bc she’s not considered an adulterous whore, but it leaves the greens with only one real argument against her and that’s HER gender and not that she doesn’t have a proper heir. The gender argument is still incredibly good because it’s the argument the greens push anyway - Boremund, Peake, Aemond, and that expired jar of mayo Orwyle all explicitly say that their issue is a woman inheriting the throne! Whether Laenor lives in this situation affects a lot as well; if he’s less stressed at court it’s possible he’s a better political ally to Rhaenyra so he doesn’t get offed for being useless & Laenor as Prince Consort during the Dance is just leaps and bounds better than Daemon.

HOWEVER. Alicent’s children looking like her actually gives Rhaenyra a new argument - something something, my son & heir is of Pure Valyrian Blood, look at him with his Pure Valyrian Looks and look at my brown haired baby brother. This can certainly be overlooked by being cool and riding a dragon - pls see Rhaenys and Meleys - but even flying on the prettiest dragon might not be enough goodwill to get people to overlook The Everything about Aegon not even wanting to be king. And an Aegon who doesn’t want to be king AND doesn’t even look Valyrian AND his sister has a true born son that looks Valyrian? Even if a faction forms up around Aegon - and to be clear it definitely still would because Otto will still be pushing it - I think it becomes an uphill battle to get Aegon to actually take up the crown.

I would say that they’d deal with this by betrothing Helaena and Jace but the thing about the Targaryens is that they are their own biggest opps so I genuinely don’t know if Rhaenyra, Viserys, or Alicent would see the sense in combining their lines & do this or if Rhaenyra still decides “Laena & Daemon are my besties of course I’m tying our lines & ensuring Daemon fights for me in the upcoming political showdown” (even tho Daemon was never gonna fight for Alicent in a million years) or if Laenor pushes for a different betrothal (either a smarter one that gets them allies, like betrothing Jace to one of the Baratheon girls, or wants to combine his line with his sisters & pushes for Baela/Rhaena anyways). If Jace and Helaena DON’T marry I think there’s still going to be a succession crisis, and if they still decide to use their dragons to fight that crisis, it’s still destructive no matter what. The main issue is that if Rhaenyra can make the greens look bad, they have less of a foothold in ousting her, but can Rhaenyra use the fact that her sons are legitimate well enough to shore up support? On her own I don’t think so - she got a lot of support in canon even with the boys looking like Harwin, but also needlessly shot herself in the foot like several times as well so - but with Jacaerys by her side (and potentially Laenor as well) I do think she’d have a better shot at taking & holding Westeros bloodlessly over Aegon. But again - while Otto focuses on Rhaenyra being a whore (bc they live in a hellscape and it’s a great argument) the issue is Andal succession laws & Jaehaerys. There was always going to be conflict surrounding Rhaenyra taking the throne. If she can make an ally out of Alicent somehow or even completely bury Alicent’s arguments (ie, why do your kids look like Criston Cole or something to that affect), the issue becomes more akin to Aenys’ problems of having a few unruly lords. Jacaerys and Laenor are good politicians though, as is Corlys, and if she doesn’t have the legitimacy of her children being questioned, i think she has an easier time but that doesn’t mean it might not still come to war.