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mrsharrington83 · 8 months ago

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Idiots in Love

REQUESTED – My asks are open if you have a request ^_^

Summary; (For the sake of this fic, Steve and Nancy never happened) Steve and reader being dumb and having moments of being iconic together. Since everyone knows that Steve isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, maybe he just needs another person to be as dumb as him or maybe he just needs someone else to match him mentally.

Words; 3.4k

warnings; swearing, usual stranger things, things, slight mention of drug use, blood and injury. not proof read.

A/N; thank you for all the requests! I apologise for taking so long getting through them all. i cant write a 0.5k-1.0k fic for the life of me at the minute! Its 2am for me now, but i really wanted to get this out!

Dustin said Steve was an idiot because he had too much hair on top of his head which left too much room for air. For you, Dustin said it was because you’d been around Steve for far too long.

Hawkins, Indiana, 1983.

School was a bore, you tried your hardest and whilst you did ace some classes, you also completely failed in others. Picking up extra tuition and getting help from anyone who would give it to you was a struggle. You didn’t like asking for help, it made you feel dumb, but more than that, it made you feel useless. Why did you struggle so much in certain classes and not in others?

You honestly thought it was from a fall you had as a child when you were learning how to ride a bike. Your father had stupidly taken off your stabiliser wheels and let you go on the hill of your childhood garden, right into a tree. Whilst you were fine overall, you did end up with a nasty bump on your head.

Not only were you not that smart academically, but you were also very accident-prone, which is how you met Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. You weren’t the most popular person in school, you had a small group of friends and that was enough for you. You didn’t want to be known by everyone. As you walked down the busy hall to your locker, hardly taking in your surroundings and paying attention, you slammed into someone’s back. Your extra tuition books and folders fell to the floor,

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going!” The person you slammed into turned around, Steve Harrington, one of the most popular, sought for guys in school looking down at you, “I- I” you stuttered and he smiled, placing his sunglasses on the top of his head, he always found your first meeting adorable, it was something the party had heard several times and not got bored of hearing it. The nervousness in your eyes, the way you pushed some of your hair back behind your ear. The way you bent down to get your books, just as he was doing the same. Your heads collided and bounced off each other, his glasses joining your books on the floor, thankfully not broken,

“Shit! Sorry!” It was Steve’s turn to apologise as he slipped his discarded glasses into his pocket and pulled all of your books and folders into his arms, standing quickly so as not to embarrass himself further, “are you okay?” you just laughed and nodded, taking the books from his arms as you thanked him. That was the start of yours twos budding romance.

Hawkins, Indiana, October, 1984

It was a constant source of amusement for the party, they couldn’t believe some of the stuff you and Steve came out with half the time and how you were both so in sync,

***

“Maybe if we set this on fire,” Mike stated as he looked toward all the drawings on the floor,

“Oh, yeah. That’s a no.” Steve bites back, shaking his head, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder as he leaned on one foot, hand on his hip,

“A double no at that,” you called back to scrambling kids who were already gathering supplies and pointing at drawings on the floor,

“The mind flayer would call away his army,”

“They’d all come to stop us,”

“We circle back to the exit,”

“Guys.” Steve interrupted the party as they carried on talking between themselves, rushing around, completely ignoring the two older people in the house,

“By the time they realise we’re gone-“

“El would be at the gate,”

“HEY, HEY, HEY, this is not happening!” You and Steve bellowed over the party as they stopped to look at the both of you, your arms falling around as Steve grabbed the tea towel from his shoulder, whipping the air,

“Do you two share the same brain cell?” Dustin looked towards you both,

“No!” you both shouted in unison again, looking towards each other before laughing, the kids joining you.

***

They were all ecstatic when they found out you were both dating, though they did have to push you both in the right direction, this whole thing was an unlikely friendship between people. The only reason you were involved with Dustin and his friends was because you babysat him whilst his mum was at work, this caused you to get involved with the disappearance of Will last year and in turn, with you being close to Steve. He was brought into the mix also.

It was so obvious to others, how you both felt about each other, but it wasn’t for you and Steve. After some coxing and words of wisdom from the younger party, as you called it. You and Steve were finally an item, though they didn’t find out until months later when Steve let it slip,

“Dustin, stop picking on my girlfriend, would you?” Steve looked up from his plate of food as he moved bacon around with his fork, leaning back against the dining room chair as he stretched,

“But she just- wait? What... girlfriend?” Dustin looked back and forth between you both, the pair of you looking confused, “you’re meant to tell us!” Steve carried on moving food around his plate as you took a bite of toast leaning against the counter,

“Tell you what?” you asked wiping the crumbs off your hands onto a discarded tea towel,

“Have you been listening to any of this conversation?!” Dustin questioned, “That you’re together! I can’t believe this! How long have you two been a thing?! Wait until the others find out about this!” You picked up your plate with half a slice of toast left and took a seat opposite Steve as Dustin still stood shocked, playing with his walkie,

Steve finished up his food and stood up to put his plate in the sink, he looked at the calendar furrowing his brows slightly at the small writing, “Like seven months? Right?” he looked back at you as you nodded, your mouth full of toast.

Dustin once again stood dumbfounded, his mouth visibly agape as he pressed a button on his walkie, “you are not going to believe this, guys.”

Hawkins, Indiana, June 1985

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” You smoothed out part of your Scoops uniform that was now creased and bloody from your split lip and Steve’s as he was continuously hunching over you in a Russian loading car trying to gather his senses and not be knocked from pillar to post by Dustin’s driving up front, laughter bubbling in your throat, the situation was anything, but funny. All three of you (Steve, Y/N, and Robin) had been interrogated to the max, but once they found out there was a tie between you and Steve, they took advantage of that.

***

“Who do you work for?” the guard got down into your face once more, holding the arms of the chair you were tied to, his eyes glaring into your own,

“How many times do I have to tell you I work for Scoops Ahoy? I scoop ice cream for a living!” you cried out as you earned another slap across your already throbbing jaw. Steve was tied up behind you already passed out, they’d done a number on him and all you wanted to do was get out of this place and tend to his injuries, he didn’t deserve any of this. Robin was tied to the corner of the room having to witness her two new best friends being treated like this.

The Russian guard got in your face once more, “it looks like your friend here needs a doctor. Just as well we have the very best.” A smirk across his face made you see red, and without thinking you spat at him. A slight tinge of blood from your split lip was dripping down your chin, staining the collar of your uniform, “you’re going to regret that little one.” With that he muttered something else in Russian before leaving the room with the other guards, leaving you three on your own once more, but not without Robin calling them all bastards and yelling to let you all out of there.

“Steve?” you called gently as Robin tried to manoeuvre her arms from her binds to no avail. Unlike you two, she was tied to a bench so she couldn’t do much whilst she was bound up. Steve started to stir, pain evident in the way he groaned, “oh thank god... are you okay?” you asked quietly not wanting to be too loud,

“Ears are ringing, I can barely breathe and, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but apart from that I’m doing pretty good.” His voice was laced with pain and sarcasm.

***

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you came to an abrupt end, all three of you hitting already pained parts of your body as Dustin crashed into something,

“You guys alright back there?” Dustin asked as he looked to Erica with a slight shrug, “They’re fine, come on. Let’s go.” Dustin hurried out and opened the back of the loading car, hurrying you all out. Time was of the essence after all. This definitely made him think about how he acted sometimes, it was a handful and the fact you and Steve cared for him and all of his friends ample times made him furrow his brow slightly, not that he would change after they got out of this mess, he had an excuse, he was still younger than you.

“Guys! Come on!” Dustin bellowed as he huffed in annoyance, slapping his wrist, and ushering everyone into the elevator.

“Oh my god! A skateboard!” you screamed out in joy, jumping on a red platform truck as Dustin got to work pressing buttons and hoping for the best, once the elevator started to move, you started to struggle. Steve grabbed hold of the platform truck to stop it from moving too much,

“It looks like you're surfing!” Robin pointed at you as Dustin and Erica glanced at each other quite clearly done with your shit.

“They look drunk,” Erica stated, all of you now splayed on the floor talking about food, “why are they drunk, or drugged?” she questioned as Dustin felt Steve’s forehead,

“He’s burning up,” Dustin spoke to Erica alarmed,

“You’re burning up” Steve bit back, trying to push Dustin away with his hand whilst you and Robin laughed at the ceiling,

“Eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated, Steve,” Dustin pat his cheek lightly, “are you drugged?”

“How many times, Dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve poked Dustin’s cheek and started laughing again as you and Robin shot up,

“you have marijuana?!” you crawled over to Steve and laid next to him, “gimme!” more laughs erupted from the three of you as Dustin and Erica watched on, wondering what the hell they were going to do to get you all out of this mess in one piece.

Getting you all back to the mall safely was a lot harder than Dustin could have imagined, Robin was picking at her uniform whilst tripping up over thin air whilst you and Steve were trailing behind humming and drumming the air to Simple Minds- Don’t You (Forget About Me) a song that had been on the radio continuously for the past month- a song Dustin thought you were both getting annoyed with as it came on the radio hours before you were in this mess and you were both scrambling with the radio to turn it off with rushed words of, fuck sake, turn it off, not this again, if I hear this song one more time I swear,

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.”

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

Keeping you all hidden from the Russians was a lot harder than it could have been, with you three wanting food, and then trying to separate to find food, Dustin thought of a quick solution and got you all into the movie theatre but not before Steve reached into the bin to pull out a bag of discarded popcorn,

“You three sit.” Dustin pointed at the three vacant chairs as you all complained about being too close, and how the seats sucked. “Well then don’t watch the movie!”

“But we want to watch the movie!” Robin exclaimed as other people around you started to get agitated,

“Then watch it!” Dustin apologised to other people trying to shush you all, changing his tone to a hushed annoyed whisper, “Whatever you do. Don’t... go... anywhere.”

“Fine, Dad.” Steve perked up shaking his shoulders slightly as you and Robin snickered, taking handfuls of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

“That settles it,” Dustin huffed, “I'm never having kids." The pair sat down a few seats away, keeping their eyes off you trying to fetch up a plan.

Once they both realised you three had left the movie theatre, Dustin let out an audible sigh from his chest, this day, was not it.

“So, like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but... I’m pretty sure...that mum was trying to bang her son.” Robin leaned against the wall as you and Steve took turns drinking water from the fountain,

“But they’re the same age.” you stopped drinking and looked towards Robin,

“No, but he went back in time.” Robin looked up to the ceiling, balancing on one foot and then the other,

“Then why is it called back to the future?” Steve asked confused as he stopped drinking, letting Robin get to the fountain.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you stated “Back means past so how could he be travelling back to something that hasn’t even happened yet?” you questioned Robin, Steve looking at you doe-eyed, completely agreeing with you,

“He has to go back to the future because he’s in the past, so, the future is actually the present, which is his time” Robin added as you looked confused,

“wh...What?” you and Steve looked at each other astonished before you both got distracted by the ceiling lights, dizziness, and churning in your stomach had you all rushing to the toilet, bringing up everything that happened in the day.

“Well that was no fun,” your voice was harsh, your throat sore as you leaned back against the cold wall of the cubical, no longer dizzy, everything still, the walls no longer moving around you, “Back to the Future though, I can’t get over that.”

***

Hawkins, Indiana, March 1986

Walking into the creel house was way more disturbing than it looked outside, creaking floorboards, furnishings covered in dust and cobwebs, completely derelict, wherever you stood, something creaked.

Lucas went to check on a small lamp for some light, probably to take the edge off an already eerie situation, “looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.” He stated as Dustin turned on his flashlight, you and Steve stood behind him glancing back and forth to each other,

“Where’d everyone get those?” Steve asked noticing that everyone had one except you and him.

Dustin looked back at the both of you as if to say unbelievable, “Do you two need to be told everything? You’re not children.”

“Thank you.” You said under your breath a little, huffing as Dustin took his backpack off,

“Back pocket.” He was used to you both forgetting things like that, you were both usually good with weapons and things you might need, and everything you didn’t, but never flashlights. You really did need to be told.

Max pointed out a big grandfather clock, hoping that everyone else could see it taking you away from looking at the scattered furniture,

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” you asked looking at the hands that were still,

“Maybe he’s, like, a clockmaker or something?” Steve said next to you, as you pursed your lips actually thinking about it,

"I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval as you watched on, nudging Dustin slightly. Nancy told everyone to go in groups of two leaving you, Steve and a smiling Dustin. Steve let out a sigh and walked off signalling you to follow, “Was that a sigh?”

“No, I did not sigh.”

“Why’d you sigh?”

“I didn’t sigh. Just come on, dude.”

“I heard you.”

“We were just always partnered up with you, okay?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“It’d just be nice to, I don’t know, mix it up a bit.”

You continued to walk the stairs, creaking with every other step, as Dustin hurried up behind you, the pair of them starting to bicker a bit, a usual occurrence, “I’m boring to you? Is that it?”

“No it’s the opposite,” Steve added as he moved his (Dustin’s) flashlight around careful not to knock anything off the walls,

“Maybe me and Y/N should partner up and you go around this creepy house alone, is that what you want?” Dustin asked as Steve shot his head around almost tumbling back down the stairs,

“No! I don’t want that, sorry man.” Steve moved his hair that had fallen a little flat huffing once more. “We do make a good team, The Three Musketeers and all that.” You smiled at Steve’s remark, it was a book you both had to read when you were at school, though boring at the time, the lessons you learned from the book stayed with you. Chivalry, honour, heroics, and willingness. It was true. You, Steve, and Dustin probably had spent the most time together because even though you could both be a bit daft from time to time, you were both reliable and trustworthy with any problem Dustin had, even if that meant issues outside of the upside down. You both never found anything that Dustin had to say daft.

“Hey, uh, Henderson?” Steve asked, looking at the cobwebs that littered the place, “could you maybe, uh, clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”

“I second that,” you cut in,

“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” Dustin looked back at the both of you smiling, “Sherlock Holmes.” Seeing you both confused he huffed sincerely.

“That’s great. Thanks. That’s great. Really helpful” You huffed and shook your head, feeling dumb as Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb slowly, a knowing glance only the both of you understood.

“You're not stupid, not to me anyway.” Steve smiled as a small laugh escaped your lips a small vent in the floor catching your eyeline as you walked over to it, “Y/N, let me.” Steve crouched down in front of you lifting the metal from the floor, jars of preserved insects had you grimacing before Steve shot up alarmed, shaking his arm and flailing his hand to get a spider off, both of you clumsily falling through cobwebs and the door, into Nancy,

“Hey, hey, both of you, stay still. Stop moving.” She took time to rid you both of cobwebs as she lightly dusted dust off your arm, you and Steve then looking over each other,

“It was a black widow.” Steve lets out a breath of air, calmer than he was before, “Don’t go in there.” He shut the door adverting his attention back to you, moving a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, kissing your nose lightly. “So uh, Nance. Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world, and stuff. Maybe we can all go out. You know? Me, Y/N, you, Jonathan, when he’s back.”

“I’d love to.” Nancy looked at you both endearingly, she was glad you both had each other. Everyone needed someone. She knew you both back in school, but never really spoke to either of you. She was too wrapped up in perfecting her grades, reading the next book on the shelf, but she was so thankful to be in your lives now.

Steve was finally with someone he could be himself around without feeling bad or awkward, even in this messed up world the both of you bounced off each other as though it were effortless. Although you were sometimes the biggest idiots, you were the biggest idiots in love.

#steve harrington #steveharrington/reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #steve harrington x reader #steveharringtonxreader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff

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whitedragonwolf4961 · 3 months ago

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The signs were there…

The signs were there all along… that the fucking hacks were ruining this beautiful, amazing, complex character long before the shit season. I know those dumb as shit incompetent hacks and some of the cast of GoT (do they actually believe that shit or were they toeing the line?) in their condescending manner told us that the “signs” were there all along about Dany “going mad”. They are right but not for the reasons they think they are. The signs were there… that D&D were ruining Dany’s character long before that putrid shitshow that was Season 8. When you reread the books and remember or rewatch the show, you can see. As early as S1, they were giving many of Dany’s strong or intelligent or kind and merciful moments to the males around her. It was her who took Viserys’s horse away from him to show how she has grown stronger and is no longer as afraid of him as she once was. In the show they gave it to Rhakaro. In S2 they had Jorah tell Dany she must be her people’s strength and then Dany told Jorah “as you are mine”. Contrast that where in the books Dany told herself she must be her people’s strength, including Jorah. And they gave Dany’s meeting with Quaithe to freaking Jorah! There is the fact that the hacks couldn’t have women talking for two minutes without insulting each other (directly or subtly). And then they gave her intelligent strategies to her male advisers in S3 and 4. And of course had her rely on the incompetence dumbass Show Tyrion for strategy completely in S7, ignoring the advice of her allies (who were all females). And to make her look worse, they had Barristan tell her “it’s better to answer injustice with mercy” when she had those masters crucified for what they did to the children (and of course add “nice and innocent slavers”). No surprise to find out that they omitted that Dany specifically ordered them to give up their leaders aka the ones who obviously ordered it, in the books. And how Dany is told by her advisers to be more violent and ruthless, instead of them “tempering her worst impulses” (I fucking hate that sexist fucking line). Dany is the one who wants to be as merciful and nonviolent as possible. A little off topic, I think Dany needs to become more ruthless. I think GRRM was trying to show that while it shows Dany’s good heart that she tried to be compromising, you cannot compromise with slavers. If she wants to utterly destroy slavery she will need to be more ruthless and that is not a bad thing at all.

Anyway, besides giving most of Dany’s best moments to the males around her, the fucking hacks were changing things when they still followed the books (for a given definition of “follow”) as well as adding ridiculous crap. It’s most blatant in her S2 storyline. The Thirteen immediately invite Dany into Qarth because they sought her out. But the hacks had Dany be condescendingly talked to by the show only Spice King and refused entry. So they could have her shout “We will lay waste to armies and burn cities to the ground”. I know a lot of dumb idiots will use that line as “proof” but it was a stupid addition by the two hacks so they could make Dany look bad. And then they had Dany’s Dothraki people slaughtered. They had Irri murdered. They took away Dany’s female companionship (until Missandei). And speaking of Irri, who killed her? Doreah! Yeah! They had Doreah out of literally nowhere with zero explanation or reason betray Dany and murder Irri (like I said, Dumb&Dumber can’t stand female friendships. They think women are only good for insulting and killing each other). Looks like the later seasons weren’t the start of them inventing stupid plot points out of nowhere. And I guess they wanted to make Dany look cruel for locking Doreah and Xaro in the vault. Know what she does to them in the books? Nothing. Well not exactly nothing. Doreah dies in the Red Waste and Dany holds her and gives her water from her own waterskin and refuses to move until Doreah has passed. And Xaro is still alive in the books. Because Xaro and Pree never stole her dragons in the books (another stupid show invention). And then later, as I previously mentioned, they invented “innocent slave masters” that Dany crucified like Hizdahr’s daddy. Nothing like that is brought up in the books. Oh, and they decided to kill off Ser Barristan in S5! Even though Barristan is alive and well and gladly serving Dany in the books and knowing she’s nothing like her father. Which the actor pointed out. And it only made those scumbags want to do it even more. And then after his (very stupid) death, Dany burns a slave master. And that stupid awful behind the scenes book after the shit season, Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon has that moron Cogman bring that up about how Dany didn’t care if he was innocent or not (they really had a thing about “innocent slave masters”). None of that crap ever happens in the books.

They also changed small but important parts. Never let Dany have a crown like I mentioned. They also had Dany sit on top of the stairs in Mereen, when she insists on sitting at the bottom on a simple bench because she wants to be on an equal level with her people. Heck an illustrator had to be corrected by GRRM when she was showing that (does anyone have a picture or article about that?). They also never really showed her bond with her other dragons. In the books she loves and pays attention to all of them, in particular Viserion who always wants to be petted by her. In the show, she only really pays attention to Drogon mostly. Rhaegal and Viserion were reduced to “the two smaller different colored dragons” (to be stupidly killed off later on in stupid asinine ways). And Dany’s relationship with Daario is changed. Daario is made to be the one in love and Dany “feels nothing” when she ends their relationship. In the books Dany has a huge crush on Daario but Daario only really wants her for her crown and title, not the girl she is. And Dany knows this. And Jorah is changed into this super nice guy who is always giving her wisdom instead of this creep who is trying to isolate her from other men so she’ll only rely on him.

And when they stopped following the books? Well they really weren’t bothering to hide it much anymore. In S6, they have that idiot Show Tyrion talk about how Dany was “wrong” for not building a new system (and Tyrion is portrayed as smart for not wanting to change the way of the world even though that’s what Dany wants to do). So Tyrion wants slavery to continue for seven years (which the idiot says is a “short time”). And most disgustingly, they had him tell Missandei and Gray Worm, who were slaves their whole lives, that he now “knows the horrors of it”. A white rich guy telling two people of color that he knows about slavery… (am I looking at it too much?) Anyway, when that predictably backfires (why the hell were they always having people talk about how smart Tyrion is and Dany needs to listen to him when all he’s ever done is fail?) and Dany returns to Mereen, they have Dany talk about “returning cities to the dirt” so Tyrion can give her a more merciful strategy. And then in S7… have her rely only on Tyrion and his stupid plans. And if she dared to want to just end it quickly, they told her she would be just like her father. They even had that dumb weak idiot Show Jon say that. Book Jon would bitch slap that idiot. Book Jon wants to bring destruction to House Lannister.

Speaking of which… that scene where she meets Jon. It was funny how Dany had all her many titles spoken by Missandei when all Davos said about Jon is “He’s King in the North”, right? Well… I think those hacks wanted Show Jon to be this humble “noble king” while Dany is this “arrogant Queen with all these titles”. And they also want Dany to come as arrogant and entitled so they have her talk about all the shit she went through (like getting raped and betrayed and sold to sexual slavery) and how faith in herself kept her going. Now to the sane layman, that is a strong woman giving herself credit for believing in herself and using her strength to forge something better for herself. But to Dumb&Dumber that is an arrogant and selfish woman not crediting her abusers for her strength. Gosh I loathe Show Sansa but NO ONE deserves to be raped and to have her credit her rapist for her strength is just… wrong. In every way possible.

Then there was that crap with the Tarlys. Those idiots wanted us to see Dany as doing something evil and wrong. Actually they wanted us to see that whole battle as “wrong”. Because they have that tragic music playing and Tyrion looking sadly. The same guy who watched thousands burn in wildfire that he himself laid out. Where was the sad music then? Anyway Dany does what literally not just every King and Queen does but what ever highborn period does after defeating the enemy. She offers them the choice to bend the knee and live and keep their lands. Or death. Same choice Robert Baratheon offered Balon Greyjoy. Same choice the old Stark kings offered their rivals. The two Tarlys choose death so Dany executed them despite multiple chances. And immediately Varys starts comparing her to her father. Except her father (and people like Ramsay Snow, Tywin Lannister, Gregor Clegane, and Euron Greyjoy) wouldn’t have given multiple chances. They would have given no offers. Just murdered them all (Ramsay, Gregor, and Euron simply for their sadistic pleasure). And then they had Jon look uncomfortable when Dany said she had fewer enemies. Which is stupid. Jon has fought battles before. He’s killed thousands to take Winterfell back as Dany herself reminds him.

And they even had it said that Aegon the Conqueror started “the wheel” and got along far with fear. Except… yes Aegon was ruthless when he had to be, but as King he unified a country that was divided and plagued by constant conflicts. He gave them peace and prosperity. And he and his wives were the first to get rid of some unsavory practices. The hacks were determined to have us think that all Targaryens were “mad tyrants”. Idiots would have us think the Starks were democratically chosen leaders instead of ruthless warlords who conquered the North. They never understood the story or the characters. And the signs were there all along that they were ruining and destroying one of the greatest female characters in fictional history.

Longest post I ever wrote! I didn’t cover S8 because nothing needs to be said about that putrid shitshow. But let me end with this. I fully believe that not only will GRRM finish the books… he will give Dany a great and satisfying ending. I hope she becomes Queen but I will perfectly settle for her being alive and well. I have every confidence that she will not get that disgusting show ending. That was a shitty sexist plot point done purely for shock value. But… I guess the signs were there that those hacks never understood or respected Dany. But there are signs that George has great things planned for our beloved Dany. And then that is how she will be remembered. I’m gonna keep believing and hoping. Someone has to, and I will happily be that person. PS: Can people please tell me what they think of all this? Any questions? I’ll happily answer! And reblogs are perfectly acceptable and encouraged! I’d love to hear your thoughts and you can add anything you want.

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phoward89 · 7 months ago

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Happy (late) 420! I tried to get this out yesterday, but that didn't happen. Anyways, here's some Dealer!Coryo x Reader in honor of 420.

Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, slight degradation?, um that's bout it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1:

“Your brother's drunk again?” Coryo, your weed dealer and fuck buddy, asked as he flung the door to his section 8 apartment open as soon as he saw you thru the peephole.

He knew what was wrong with you just by the sullen look on your face. Anytime you had that look on your face it was because your brother was either drunk and fighting with you or your ex (who Coryo nearly beat to death after the last time he cheated on you- which if you ask the dealer shouldn't have happened cause only a fucking idiot would stick their cock in a skeezy cunt when they've got your perfect, tight cunt to fuck on the regular) did something (like cheat) to upset you.

After getting beat within an inch of his life, your ex skipped town. Rumor has it that he went to California. So, Coriolanus knows that there's only one reason you're on his doorstep looking like an anxious mess: your brother, Rein.

“Yep.” You popped your tongue.

“Come in.” Coriolanus ordered, moving aside to make room for you to enter his shithole. As you walked by him and into the apartment that smells heavily of cigarettes, weed, incense, and rose scented glade plug-ins, your favorite drug dealer announced with a lopsided smirk, “I was just ‘bout to roll a joint.”, while shutting and bolting the door.

“It's been a while since I smoked. I could use a few hits to calm down.” You admitted, making a beeline to the lumpy couch and in extension the glass coffee table nestled right in front of it.

A glass coffee table with chipped corners that was cluttered so much that the glass could barely be seen. It was a cluttered mess of magazines, rolling papers, plastic sandwich baggies, large bags of weed, a scale, a few empty beer bottles, an empty chip bag, a red solo cup, zippo, and a cheap ashtray.

Sometimes you wonder about Coryo, who could be a dead ringer for Eminem. Hell, his looks got him the nickname of Paneminem. You know, cause he's the Slim Shady of your small bumfuck Colorado town of Panem.

A town that both you and Coriolanus Snow, known to a very small select few as Coryo, hate with a passion.

But, anyways, sometimes you wonder about the dealer with the platinum buzzcut (which you were shocked to find out was his natural hair color) that lives alone. He doesn't have a lot of friends and the only family he's got is a cousin, Tigris, that's a stripper at Pluribus’ club. But they had some kind of falling out after he got a dishonorable discharge from the army and barely talk anymore.

And you only know about Tigris and his brief stint in the military cause you curiously asked him about his dog tags, chewing on the corner of them during a half-high afterglow while cuddling with him.

“What dumb shit did Rein do this time, baby girl?” The hardened drug dealer asked, following you over to the sofa. A sofa that has a board under it to level and prop up the saggy seat cushions.

“He’s pissed that I got laid off and can't find another job.” You told Coryo as the two of you sat down on the couch, making it dip under your combined weight.

“So, does that mean you're gonna start helping your favorite dealer sling shit for cash?” Coriolanus slightly chuckled, slipping his hand underneath the hem of his oversized white T-shirt and pulling his gun out of the waistband of his baggy jeans; placing it down on the coffee table.

You've seen the black Glock so many times, gosh it must be at least 50 by now, since you started buying weed and hooking up with Coryo. Him handling the weapon around you doesn't even phase you anymore. It should. It really should, especially since you weren't raised around guns or violence- but apparently the more time you spend around Snow (Coryo's surname and one of his street names- the other being Snowball) the more you're being corrupted by him.

Unknown to you, Coryo doesn't want you to become corrupted by him. He thinks you're a really sweet girl that had some shit luck of being abandoned by your mom and raised hovering above the poverty line by your much older half-brother and his girlfriend. Despite your crappy conditions, you’re as sweet as honey. Or at least to Coriolanus you are.

For some reason, the hardened drug dealer that's a couple of years older than you wants to keep you safe from any and all dangers in the world. Hell, Snow's not supposed to have feelings for you, a girl that occasionally buys weed from him; comes over to his place to vent about her life, but he does.

And that's not good because feelings are dangerous in his world. The drug underworld. The side of town, hell life, that decent people don't see.

Coryo's got people that would love to put a bullet in him; the cops also want to lock him up for at least half his life too. Having you around him so much, getting wrapped up in shit isn't good at all. It's not good for you or for him. It'll only end up bad and in heartbreak.

And Snow can't have that. Oh, he has to protect you from his world. The world of drugs and all other illicit activities that transpire in the criminal underworld. You're just too sweet to have as a permanent fixture in his life, which is why he doesn't hang with you unless you're buying weed from him. He won't actively seek you out, despite the fact that you always bring a smile to face and warm his cold, black, dead, frostbitten heart.

“Coryo, you're my only dealer.” You dryly remind him, watching as he perches on the edge of his couch; leaning forward to grab the items he needs from his chipped coffee table to roll the joint with. “And no, I'm not gonna help you deal.”

“Only dealer, favorite dealer: same thing from how I look at it.” Coriolanus retorts while his long fingers nimbly work to fill and roll a joint for the two of you to share. “It was a joke, baby. I wasn't serious.” Your dealer dryly told you before giving out a lecture of, “My line of work’s dangerous, babe. I'd never send you out into that shit just to make a buck.” Waggling a long weed scented finger in your face, he added in, “And I would've fucked some goddamn sense into you if you’d agreed to my fake offer.”

You’re not stupid, you know that Coryo’s not just a weed dealer, but that he sells some hard shit and it makes his job- hell his life- dangerous. But you don't care. You accept him as he is. You're not trying to fix him; you're fine with him the way he is. You're also fine with being his customer/sorta friends with benefits.

You know that Coryo has a lockbox full of various pills and coke that he deals. The box is shoved in the side table, that looks like a weird ass octagon, caddy cornered between his sofa and a heavily duct taped easy chair. You saw it once when you were over, crying about being cheated on by your ex and needing some weed (and maybe some big dick) pronto to make you feel better and calm you down.

Coryo had a customer he needed to meet and sell some powder to, so he prepared the crap right in front of you. After cutting the white powder finely with a credit card (that you're sure he stole from somebody) and portioning it up in a baggie, he made you swear to never touch the hard shit. He even said that he'd shoot whoever dares to give you the shit right between the eyes if he ever found out that you dabbled in the hard shit.

And then he sent you on your way with a few joints and a promise that he'd stop by to check up on you; see if you need anymore post getting cheated on weed to help feel better with. He kept good on that promise, he stopped by and took you out for a ride. A ride that ended with you desperately riding his cock in the backseat of his car- which was parked in some alleyway in a seedy part of town.

“Calm down, Coryo. God, don’t pop a vein over there.” You sarcastically tell the platinum blonde while he finishes rolling the joint. Watching him pick up his zippo off the table, you assure him.“You don't need to worry about me being in danger from the big bag drug dealers; I'll only make my money legally.”

“Y/N…” Snow mumbled warningly, slipping the joint between his lush lips and lighting up. Taking his first hit, he sighs, “The more you hang ‘round here, baby girl, the more you might be putting your sweet lil ass in danger.”

“I’m a big girl, Snowball. I can take care of myself, plus I trust you and know that you'd never hurt me.” You said, watching him take his second hit.

Passing the joint over to you, he dead ass says, “I got enemies; if they think we're a thing they'll fuck you up to get to me.” Shaking his head, he leans his elbows on his knees (of course he was manspreading- he always does when sitting on the sofa). “Cops would haul you in; jam you up just to try and catch my ass.”

Your brows furrow at his words. At their implications.

“So, what, you don't want me coming ‘round anymore?” You asked, brushing your fingertips against his rough, calloused ones as you took the joint from him. “Want me to find somebody new to buy weed from?” You took your first hit, coughing slightly. “Maybe I'll drive a couple hours to Denver and buy from a regulated dealer: from the man.” You threatened, taking your second hit and passing the joint to the broad shouldered man next to you.

“You're not driving down there for weed. You hear me?” Coryo sternly ordered before taking a deep hit off the joint.

“Then don't say you don't want me around, Coryo.” You countered, watching your dealer sexily blow a large billowing cloud of smoke from his perfect O shaped mouth.

“I didn't say that, babe.” Coryo snapped, his voice a bit hoarse from smoking weed all day (or at least you think he's been smoking all day). “I don't wanna have a heavy talk while smoking. Let's table this for now, yea?” He told you before taking a second, even longer hit from the joint perfectly pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yea, my life's stressful enough.” You agreed, taking the offered joint from Coriolanus as soon as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.

Coryo didn't say a word, just leaned back into his couch and snaked an arm to rest behind you. He gave you a lazy thin lipped smile as you took your hit. His icy eyes, usually void of emotions, were shinning with fondness as he watched you instead of whatever bullshit was on his tv.

A very nice large flatscreen that somebody gave him for payment. Fuck, the damn thing was worth nearly a grand since it was some top of the line Samsung smart tv. Snow knew it must've fallen out the back of a truck, but he didn't give a shit. Meant he didn't have to use he crappy tablet to watch stuff anymore.

But instead of watching tv, his attention was on you. God, Coriolanus loves watching you smoke. He thinks you're so sexy when you smoke. This cute, lil sweetheart taking in a large burning lungful and letting it waft out of your mouth expertly.

It turned him on.

“It's not polite to stare, Coryo.” You remind the menacing man next to you, your tone a bit teasing, while passing him the joint after finishing your hits.

“I'm not staring, so don't know what your talking about.” He firmly denied, acting like he wasn't just caught ogling your gloss coated lips, while taking the joint.

You're starting to feel a bit hazy from the weed, unlike Coryo you don't smoke around the clock so a few hits mellows you out quickly, and lean your head against his shoulder.

“Your such a fucking lightweight.” The platinum blonde chuckles, shaking his head with a hint of an taunting smirk on his lips.

“Not everyone can smoke and fuck all day, Snowball.”

“I don't smoke and fuck all day. I'll let you know that if I don't sling my shit then I ain't making any bank.” Coryo sneered, sounding a bit insulted by your remark, before taking a quick hit and holding the joint out to you.

Your fingertips brush over his, sending shockwaves through both of your buzzed bodies, as you take his offering. “You know, I'm still having a dry spell.” You reluctantly sigh between taking your two puffs and passing him back the joint.

Coryo's not stupid, he knows why you've been having problems finding somebody to hookup with let alone date. Word on the street is that he's sweet on you. That you’re Snowball's baby. Or at least Plinth and Creed, his only friends that are also dealers, told him that's the word.

Been the word since somebody saw you and him at some house party few weeks back- disappearing into a bathroom together for a good 15 minutes or so (yea, long enough to fuck).

“Maybe I can do something ‘bout it then, yea?”

“Maybe.” You coyly shrugged.

Even tho both you and Coryo knew that as soon as the joint turned into a roach; was snubbed into the ash trash, you'd be making out and undressing each other on his sofa.

“Hmmm…Coryo, that feels so good…” You loudly moan, feeling your cunt twitch and grow wetter, as you ride Coryo's cock.

Coryo's sucking on one of your titties while roughly squeezing the other in his large, calloused hand. His other hand is holding onto your ass like it's the most prized jewel into the entire world.

“God, Coryo, I needed your cock so bad.” You admit to him, your voice nothing more than a pathetic mewl, as your wrap your arms around his neck- one hand pressing into the back of his platinum buzzcut while the other holds the back of his neck- while you leverage yourself to bounce faster on his dick.

His cock, very long and thick with veins that catch every velvety piece of your walls, fills your cunt up perfectly; turns you into a whinny mess. His tip hits against your cervix, causing the coil to begin to tighten inside of your lower body with every move. And the way his cock presses into your g-spot just right- oh fuck he's completely ruined you for men.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you're addicted to Coryo's cock. He's the only man that can fuck you just right. God, you would be all hot and bothered over your dealer.

Your nipple falls from Coryo's mouth with a loud, wet pop. He looks up at you, baby blues smoldering midnight with lust, and slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby. Ride my cock, ride my cock like the lil slut you are.” His hand slides over your chest, leaving one tit and going to kneed the other, as he lands two quick slaps to your ass. “Baby, your cunt feels so tight and good. Ride me, baby, ride me.”

“Fuck…Coryo…think I'm gonna cum.” You breathing tell him, forehead pressing down against his; hair curtains around your faces, as you grind your hips faster against his.

“Yea?” He asks, his voice heavy from lust and hoarse from smoking weed, as he places his hands on either of your hips. “Hold on, baby. I'll make ya cum.” Coryo tilts his chin up, sloppily kissing you, before digging his fingers into the meat of your hips and thrusting fast and hard up into you.

“Fuck!” You scream, feeling your insides literally getting rearranged, as Coriolanus’ cock plunges deep inside of you. Deeper then you’ve ever felt it before (and that's saying something since the man’s cock always leaves an imprint in your lower stomach everytime you fuck) and it's making you see stars.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around Coryo's neck in a vice grip as he pounds up into your cunt at such a strong, punishing pace. He's fucking you so hard and good that you can feel the rubber band inside of you get ready to snap. “Coryo…I'm gonna cum.”

“Cum, baby. Be my good lil slut and cum on my cock.” Coryo orders, his baritone rough and raw, as he presses you against his chest while bucking his hips at lightning speed.

And you do. You cum hard, moaning a string of curses mixed with Coryo's name, before leaning limply against him and panting to catch your breath. Your head's pressed into the crook of his neck and he's now holding holding your back to keep you afloat while chasing his own high. Coryo pistons his cock in and out of you quickly before groaning a couple fucks and your name while shooting his hot load of thick pearly ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

“Damn…” Coryo trailed off, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Your head's still resting in the crook of his neck as you unwrap one of your arms from around his neck. Running your hand up and down his toned chest, you blurt out, “I'm hungry.”

“Of course, you get the munchies now.” Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. “I got some pizza rolls in the freezer, I'll nuke us some in a lil bit. Okay, babe?” He offered while trying to enjoy his blazed out afterglow moment with you.

Honestly, he just wanted you to cockwarm him for a while because he didn't know when you'd be in that position again.

And Coryo knows that he's going to have to cut you loose eventually. You're a liability in his line of work. Snow, the cold hearted drug dealer that doesn't think twice about popping a cap in somebody's ass, has a soft spot for you. Hell, to be honest he cares for you.

He cares a lot.

And that's dangerous. Feelings are a weakness that he can't afford in his life. The thought of you being used against him makes him sick.

And Coriolanus will never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him.

He knows that he'll have to cut you loose soon. Put his combat boot covered foot down; lay down some rules for the two of you to abide by. Something like he'll drop your weed off at your house then leave type of deal.

But right now, for a few minutes, he just wants to bask in your warmth.

And for right now, you're Snowball's baby.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

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captain-mj · 1 year ago

Note

omg i thought of this while in the resturant! (We were ehatchign fail army and they were doing scare pranks)

and i thought like "what if soap tried to scare ghoast?"

this could go two ways

ghost isnt fazed at all

2. ghost reacts poorly and ends up hurting johnny or worse..

Apologies for being so absent! Here ya go!

Ghost disliked pranks. Ever since his little brother used to scare him with the mask, they just rubbed him the wrong ways. Even the innocent ones like putting salt in the sugar so it would ruin his tea were enough to spark up old anger issues.

Obviously, this went against what the 141 knew him as when it comes down to humor. While outsiders would think a prank on Ghost would end with their heads on pikes, they also didn't know he liked dad jokes and dumb one liners.

So when Gaz and Soap started their prank war, they automatically included Ghost. In retrospect, Ghost really should've sat them down and said no with a little more force, instead of brushing them off and assuming they'd get the picture. But he thought it was over by now and he doubted they'd actually do anything again after he told them he wasn't interested.

Ghost had no way of knowing the man that jumped out at him, a spur of the moment idea on Soap's part and not something planned, as he doubted he could really sneak up on Ghost on purpose, was not going to stab him immediately. Luckily, he had been unarmed, so Soap did not end up with a gaping wound in his throat. Instead, Ghost backhanded him hard enough for his teeth to rattle in his skull.

Soap hit the ground hard and Ghost felt the adrenaline rush through his veins like he got hit by a stim. Giant blue eyes, apologetic but also shocked, blinked up at him.

Ghost wanted to hurt him. Soap must've seen it, but he didn't run. What an idiot.

Ghost turned away and took a deep breath. Noticing just now a very, very startled Gaz and Price.

Price quickly helped Soap up, glancing at Ghost like he might fly off the handle.

Soap took a breath when he got up and slowly let it out. "Hurts like a bitch, but I'm alright, Captain. You okay Simon?"

"I just almost cost you some teeth and you're asking me if I'm alright?"

"Your hands are shaking. You're breathing heavy. Thought you were having a panic attack for a minute."

Ghost shook his head. "You two are like fucking little brother. Always getting yourselves into fucking trouble. Either of you pull that shit again, I'm not stopping at one fucking hit." He hissed it at them and stomped off.

His hands were shaking.

He couldn't tell if he felt more angry at Soap for startling him, himself for getting startled and hitting him or if it was just embarrassment at the whole situation.

Soap found him in his hiding spot. "Simon?"

Ghost sighed. "I'm not going to apologize."

"Neither am I. I'll say getting bitch slapped makes us even." He pulled himself up into the perch. It was hard to get to and overlooked everything.

"I didn't actually hurt you, did I?"

"Nae. Put some ice on it and I was good as rain. Glad you didn't have any rings on though." He smiled but Ghost could see the imprint of the back of his hand. "Did I get you that bad?"

Ghost sighed. "Reminded me of someone."

"Your little brother. So you said. I hope you don't actually think we're alike considering you've kissed me."

Ghost made a face and even through the mask, Soap could tell. "He used to do shit like that. Jump out at me. Fucking hated it. And you're not getting another fucking kiss from me until I know for a fact you're both leaving me out of your little prank thing."

"I can't control Gaz!"

"Learn to."

Soap sighed. "You're breaking my heart, Simon." He smiled at him though, knowing the kiss embargo wouldn't last. "Alright. Changed my mind. I am sorry for scaring you. I know you. While I don't think I could've predicted the backhand, I could've predicted your reaction wouldn't be pleasant."

Ghost sighed loudly and Soap tilted his head. "What's wrong?"

"I hate how weirdly emotionally mature you can get, Johnny." He grabbed him and forced him to turn his head. "I'm sorry too."

"Kiss it better?"

Ghost glared at him before giving him a small kiss through the mask. "There. Fucking bastard."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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charsui · 11 months ago

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You'll never guess who's drunk live blogging One Piece and I gotta preface this with I accept the head canon that Crocodile is Luffys mother who transitioned thanks to Iva's powers.

I feel sorry for this dude, so you have a child with the leader of the revolutionary army. You leave that kid, get your transition on, (or have already transitioned and just not had bottom surgery) and work to become a warlord of the sea. You start Baroque Works, own a casino, almost take over a country.

Then out of nowhere, your idiot son appears out of nowhere to start thwarting your plan. So, in retaliation to not give away who you are, but you still love the moron, you give a non-fatal stabbing to him so he learns not to be a shit. You move on, go back to the casino you own, start working with your assistant and try to acquire a WMD.

Two days later your dumb as bricks kid shows up again to thwart your plans and gets you put in prison. You lose your warlord-ship, you lose your casino, the country is free, and your next in command has joined your son's crew. Okay, this sucks. But when in prison you start to feel like because you're feared enough you're beyond safe, you're the big dog in this pen and make it your home for a little bit. No sooner are you enjoying your stay but your motherfucking son appears AGAIN, shouting about his brother because apparently he adopted a brother while he was away on the island you left him on and this brother is the second in command to the strongest pirate on the sea.

Your son springs you from prison with the help of a bunch of flamboyant queers (I feel like Crocodile fits that thing that cis gay men can do of separating their gay identity from the larger queer community and sees his respectability to the hetero community called into question when he sees himself connected to the more ambiguous community members like Iva, Bon Clay, etc) and now you're no longer where you'd become comfortable and you're going to war with the government.

You decide to change career paths and aim for King of the Pirates and see Whitebeard, the most likely candidate, right there for the assassinating. You go to strike with surprise and... It's your goddamned kid again defending him.

You literally cannot catch a break and you know it's your own son that is the root of all your problems no matter how much you love him.

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bokettochild · 10 months ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 5 - Rope Burn

Well this took forever! I actualy finished last ight but then I wasn't sure if I hated it or not, so I had to sleep on it. If you see any typos, no you do not.

Wordcount: 9,300

Rating: Teen

Summary: After Twilight reveals some information about his past, Four tries to use it as a learning opportunity for all of them. It does not go as expected.

“There is no way a military leader was that incompetent.”

Wild pauses in his story, much to Wind’s frustration, because he really did want to hear the end of it, which he’s about to say, only the vet’s voice raises, a smirk touching the other’s face as he settles down at the fire with the rest of them after coming back from doing rounds. “Sounds about right to me.”

“Too competent,” Warriors challenges, dropping his head to thoroughly tousle his hair, “half my men couldn’t do that.” That’s fair, Wind decides, he remembers the captain’s men as all being somewhat... stupid.

The champion stares at them, openly astounded. “How,” he begins, glancing between the vet and captain “are your kingdoms still standing? If the leaders of your defenses are less capable than Master I-killed-myself-on-accident-with-my-own-power Kohga?”

“Spoilers!” That’s how the story ends? Wild had only just begun to get to the part where he fought Kohga, but now the ending has been well and truly ruined! Although, it seems they’re getting derailed, so it’s quite likely he won’t even get to hear said ending, considering the champion is too busy looking between captain and veteran for answers.

The vet just snorts, unknowing of what he’s missed, and of Wind’s ire, and simply crossing his legs and focusing on the fire. “Where do you think I got the title of veteran? I don’t just sit on my fanny all day, champ.”

When the champion’s eyes turn to Warriors, the captain just shakes his head. “I have no clue.” It‘s more sigh than anything, as though the captain’s long since given up hopes for competency among his people. “I’d say Impa, but even she can’t hold the country together by herself, so I’m assuming it’s pure dumb luck.”

Across camp, Sky, who’d been the first one to say anything after the champion’s insane story, stares. “You’re saying I brought down the knights of Skyloft just so they could devolve into idiotic half-competent protectors of the country and leave kids to be the ones to save the world?” It’s harsh, but it’s fair as well, although not everyone seems to think so. Wind can’t say anything on the matter though because the closest to military groups they have in his world are pirates, and pirates don’t exactly serve the people.

The group as a whole gives each other considering looks, although Legend and Warriors are too busy talking with their eyes- Legend raising a brow and Warriors sighing, rolling his own eyes and earning a smirk in answer- to really care about what everyone else thinks. He thinks Legend asked a question, but how either of them can read each other that well, considering how rarely they even interact, he’s not sure.

“The knights in my era are half-competent,” Four assures, “easily manipulated by magic, but they’re just people, so I can’t really blame them. They’re good at their work though.”

“Lucky,” Legend scoffs.

Time also seems confident in the soldiers of his era, but Twilight adds that his own are cowards and pathetic, so it seems they’re split. Wind, Wild, and Hyrule can’t add anything, due to the lack of military forces in their eras, the soldier is in agreement with their farm boys on the idiocy of his own people, and only their first two and the old man seem to have any faith whatsoever in those set to guard their era. He wonders if maybe there was a decline, after one of them, that led to the army of Hyrule falling, but he doesn’t ask, since it’s unlikely they can say for sure anyway.

“How often do you interact with knights though?” Sky challenges, glancing between them. Most haven’t been around them often, but those who’ve got only ill to say all scoff, almost simultaneously, which startles them as much as it does the rest of the group.

“I live with them,” the captain starts slowly, glancing between Twilight and Legend with a curious half-smile as though he’s actively trying to figure out what on earth could tie them to the people whom they so frequently scorn. “Spent the last five or six years in the army.”

The vet’s a bit more hesitant with his answer, staring between them warily, guarded. “My sister is a knight commander, and our family has ties with the army, so I end up around them a lot more than I’d like, even when they aren’t actively hunting me down.” And Wind wants to stop the conversation there and ask about the fact that Legend apparently has a family and also a reason for the army to be up his ass about something, but he doesn’t get a chance because once more, someone else speaks first.

“I grew up on a military base,” Twilight snorts, “trust me, soldiers are as dumb as rocks.”

And well, Legend having a family isn’t that crazy in comparison to that.

Warriors starts, staring at the rancher, blinking slowly as though still trying to process the words of the other. “I’m sorry- you what?”

“I thought you grew up in Ordon?” Wild questions, turning to his mentor, confusion on clear display.

Yeah, Wind has a feeling that Wild’s story is well and truly over now, but he supposes it’s worth it. Learning something about their rancher is, he supposes, better than hearing the rest of the story the cook had already spoiled the ending too, especially as the limit of their knowledge about the rancher at this point is that he’s from Ordon, used to work as a ranch hand, and is descended from Time and Malon somehow. The fact that he’s a hero goes without saying, but the ranch hand nearly never shares anything about himself, even though he seems to love talking about his hometown and all the people in it, to the point where some of them feel they know the village and its residents already, despite still not having been there yet.

Yet, the rancher is grinning as he leans back, the sprig of hylian rice between his teeth bouncing some as he flashes a wolfish grin at them. “Well, yeah, sort of.”

“Sort of?” Time nudges his pup, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Their leader isn’t keen on them being cryptic with him, even though he frequently does so himself. The hypocrite. “Explain.”

The rancher chuckles, a nervous little thing, but obediently pulls himself up, resting his weight over his knees as he looks around the fire at all of them, eyes glinting slightly. “Well, y’see, I a’tually grew up in a citadel on the edge of Hyrule.”

Warriors jaw drops so fast. “Holy Hylia you’re a military brat.”

He can’t help it; he bursts into laughter. Yes, objectively, it’s funny to see Warriors so shocked, but from an outsider's perspective it is so, so much funnier because he’s met Warriors parents and sisters, and he’s seen for himself the proof that the captain is anything but the sissy city boy Twilight likes to accuse him of being. No, the captain was born in Hebra, so far out from cities that he thought Kakariko was huge. Meanwhile, it turns out their “country boy” actually grew up in a military base? Not the country? It turns out Twilight is the military brat and Warriors was the hill-billy? How the turn tables have turned!

The rest of the heroes stare at him, confused, but the captain just rolls blue eyes, pinching the tip of his ear to make him shut up. “Ignore him.”

Twilight’s dark gaze flicks between them, but apparently, he determines to listen to the captain for once. “Right, so, my dad was a’tually a knight from some family o’ knights or summat, an’ my mom comes from desert folk, so I grew up on the border studyin’ with other knights’ kids to take on our fathers’ duties ’n protect Hyrule one day.”

The stares are very, very evident by now, although Legend’s in particular is strangely intense, studying the other with his mouth half open like he’s got a question about the rancher’s words.

Broad shoulders shrug, a bit awkward as the rancher grins at them. “My friends growin’ up were dumber’n rocks, an’ every knight I’ve met since is the same, so yeah. Knights ‘re stupid.”

“Just a question,” and it seems the vet decided to actually ask whatever’s in his head, “but your knight family, they Hyrulian Knights?”

“Yeah?”

The vet nods, slowly, lips pursed like he’s sucking on a lemon. “Oh.”

“Why?”

A shake of pink hair, eyes turning back to the fire. “Same hat is all.”

“You too?”

“Born and raised, but never followed. Your folks drag you to Snowpeak every winter too?”

The rancher shakes his head. “Naw, yeti’s took the place over some time ago. I’d heard it used to be ours though, never thought much of it though. You’ve been?”

“Yeah.”

“Hold up,” Watrriors interrupts the, frankly unexpected, moment between their rancher and vet to stare between both of them “You’re both military brats, you both hate soldiers, and you both neglected to say anything until freaking now? Also, Hyrulian Knights? You’re talking about the fabled family that sealed back Ganon here, right? Produced the Savior of Labrynna, may or may not be the family of the Hero of Time?” That has their old man looking up, startled, for a moment. It’s only a moment though, because that one wide eye promptly shoots down to Twilight and then, as though on second thought, Legend too, Time’s stare growing ever more startled and shaken, ears twitching like they used too when he was particularly confused or trying to work something out in his head.

Legend snorts. “Yes.”

“Heads up,” Hyrule chuckles, “Legend is the Hero of Labrynna, so keep your hero worship at a minimum there, Wars.”

He thinks that the captain’s face flickers through all five stages of grief for a moment there before the man gets up and simply...walks away, leaving Hyrule rocking in his seat from laughter and Sky looking thoroughly befuddled. “Is he okay?”

“Big hero worship,” Wind says, like the snitch he is. He’s no traitor in most senses, but if he can give Warriors a little grief, tease him a bit, he will. He’s fine with sharing some of the things he’d learned under the care of the other. “Apparently he views that guy like I did with Time, wanted to be like him and everything.”

Rather than flush or falter, Legend’s lemon-sucking face gets even more pronounced. “Why?”

“Because apparently the stories all say you were such an inspiring leader to Labrynna’s army that soldiers and generals emulated both your tactics and speeches for decades after Ganon’s defeat.” It’s amazing to watch the vet’s entire world-view shatter at the words, the man apparently not sure if he should look off towards their captain who’s flopped on his bedroll to contemplate his whole life all over again or down at the ground to contemplate his own. Like the problem child he usually chooses not to be, Wind decides to make it worse. “His Hyrule considers you the greatest knight that ever lived.”

Ringed hands bury in pink hair, violet eyes blowing wide as the other hunches over, mind clearly blown. Beside the vet, Twilight gently (and by gently, Wind means very cautiously) claps his brother’s back, his own face a bit tense.

Wind is loving watching this. This is better than listening to Wild explain his exploits against the Yiga! Although, he’s also curious. “Did you really grow up in a citadel, Twi?”

“Yeah,” a brief nod, dark eyes lingering on their malfunctioning veteran, “I only traveled up Ordon way around your age, when the citadel fell.”

Okay, not touching that bomb. “What was it like?”

His question earns a grin. “What you’d expect, I s’pose. We were monsters as kids, an’ I s’pose growin’ up military gave us a twisted view of the world. Or, rather, of what was normal any’ays.”

“Like how?” Sky, who grew up in a knight’s academy and seems entirely normal by what standards Wind has, asks.

“Our main games usually centered around pretendin’ to be knights an’ capturin’ each other or doin’ what we saw our dads doin’ most of the time.”

“Like?” Time prods again.

Twilight grins, and then falters, looking suddenly alarmed as he glances over the rest of them. “Okay, in hindsight, it was messed up.”

Now he really wants to know. “What did you do?”

The others all stare; those who aren’t, like Warriors and Legend, currently questioning their existence. Their concern is steadily growing the more Twilight falters and flushes, and Wind is now very much dying to know what sort of shenanigans the rancher used to get up to as a kid. Whatever it was, it can’t be worse than what Time used to put him through during the war, although the idea of their sweet and warm rancher being related to the gremlin he remembers from back then is now not so insane a concept anymore.

“Alright,” The (apparently not from Ordon) Ordonian starts at last, and Wind’s not sure if the rancher is aware that he’s moved his hand up to be toying with the vet’s hair now, a nervous sort of stroking, but the vet hasn’t snapped at him for it yet, although maybe that’s because he’s just too lost in his own head to notice, “don’t judge.”

“I will reserve my judgement,” Four answers, slowly, “but no promises.”

“I grew up on the edge of the desert, an’ most of what our folks did was hunt Gerudo thieves an’ protect traders in an’ outta the desert.” Which makes sense, but he feels like Twilight’s getting at something less than what his parents did for a living. “Nowadays, my hairs a fair bit darker, but it was purdy red back then an’ the other kids kind of figured it meant that when we played, I had to be the evil Gerudo thief, since, y’know, red hair.”

Ah, racism in children, now Wind sees it. Not what he was hoping for but he’s not sure what he was expecting.

“So,” Twilight clears his throat awkwardly, “when we played, I’d be the bad guy an’ they’d chase me down and ‘capture’ me. In hindsight, it probably was less play an’ more bullyin’ since I wasn’t too well liked at first an’ they weren’t very nice about it.”

“But?” Sky asks, maybe too hopefully.

“But,” the rancher accepts, because apparently there's something good in this after all, or at least something that makes the man smile, “part of the ‘game’ involved them tryin’ to tie me up. Unfortunately for them, I got mighty good at escapin’ bein’ tied up. I think I must’ve impressed ‘em, because they started makin’ a game of if I could escape various crazy things, an’ sometimes would ask me to help ‘em tie each other up so they could try a hand at it too.” Sharp teeth glint in a fond smile. “Got a reputation for bein’ slippery as a snake and sly as a fox, an’ t’others all started treatin’ me like some sorta genius. We became friends awful fast after.”

An awkward silence settles over camp after that, the rancher’s words sinking in and the rest of them processing what was said. Surprisingly, it’s Legend who breaks it, lifting his head from his own hands, apparently having decided to shelf whatever feelings he’s having, but also apparently missing the hand still tangled in his hair. “So, in other words, you earned the respect of your bullies and made their bullying into what sounds like a perfectly normal childhood game.”

“What sort of a childhood did you have again?” Sky deadpans. “Didn’t you start adventuring at like, eight?”

“And?” The vet returns, looking actually, genuinely confused as to what that has to do with anything.

Their chosen hero sighs, shaking his head, apparently already giving up on trying to explain the flaw in the vet’s logic. Honestly, Wind can’t see it, whatever it is, but he’s getting the impression that kids on Skyloft and kids in Hyrule have very, very different experiences.

It’s about a week later that someone brings it up again, and surprisingly, it’s Four.

They’re sitting around the main room of the smithy’s house, keeping warm after spending the last day out in the middle of a strange mix of fog and rain while hunting monsters. The smithy’s parents have been very welcoming towards their guests, and all of them are savoring the chance to fully relax for the first time in a good while. Well, most of them, Legend and Hyrule don’t seem particularly capable of fully relaxing, so Four’s mother has roped them into helping her in the little garden out back, which seems to be quite to the vet’s tastes and, while foreign to Hyrule, a new experience the traveler doesn't seem keen on passing up.

That leaves the rest of them free in the otherwise empty house, left to their own devices while the smithy’s father attends to his work at the castle. Twilight is trying (and failing) to teach Warriors how to play chess, and Wind and Wild are busy playing with Four’s cat, Tongs, when the smithy suddenly walks into the room again after coming downstairs and addresses the rancher. “Do you think you could still escape being tied up?”

Time, who was sitting on the couch, looking halfway towards dozing off, suddenly starts awake again and stares, as do the rest of them.

“Pardon?” The rancher asks, sighing in defeat as Warriors knocks all the pieces off the chess board with an agitated scowl, signifying his disinterest in continuing to try and learn the “stupid” game.

“The game you mentioned,” Four reminds them, crossing the room to perch on the couch arm closest to the rancher, although why he doesn’t just sit on the couch, Wind’s not sure. “You said your friends were really impressed by your ability to escape all the time. Do you think you could still do that?”

Twilight shrugs, scooping up the fallen chess pieces to put back in their box, all while Warriors glares at one of the rooks like it’s personally offended him. Wind wasn’t watching close enough to know if it had or not. “I mean, I might, haven’t tried in a while. Why?”

The smithy kicks his feet, well off the floor, and frowns, a thoughtful frown like he’s slowly piecing his words together. “I was curious. I’ve never been good at that sort of thing, and I wanted to know if you’d be willing to show us so I could get better.”

“And why do you need to get better at escaping being tied up?” The captain interjects, tossing the white rook into the box with a twitch of a frown.

“So sure you want to ask that?” Sky snorts, moseying in from the kitchen where Four’s mother had given them free access to make tea and grab food. The face the captain makes at him is scandalized but their chosen hero just slurps his tea, staring over the rim of his cup with raised brows.

Wind doesn’t get the joke. He’s not sure if he wants to.

Four huffs, slightly red in the cheeks, but presses on. “During my adventure, I made...some mistakes. It resulted in my capture, and I couldn’t exactly escape. I don’t want that to happen again.” It’s a simple enough answer, glazing over anything and everything other than the smithy getting captured, but it still raises questions, although not the ones the smithy was likely trying to avoid.

“I thought you were a knight?” Warriors picks up the queen piece, not dropping it yet but not staring at it either, instead focusing his narrowed eyes on their smithy. “All soldiers are trained on what to do in the case of capture, torture, and questioning. Did you not recieve that training?”

It’s Twilight’s turn to shift about to stare at the captain. “How would they train that sort of thing?”

The captain’s face screws up, “Am I the only one who was taught this? Sky,” the man drops the queen and it goes rolling across the table, “did you or did you not receive-”

“No,” the chosen hero doesn’t even wait for the other to finish. “Who on earth would even interrogate us? Skyloftian knights fight monsters, not men.” A long sip follows the words before Sky frowns and turns to look down at the seated soldier. “Do they seriously teach you about torture?”

“Yes?” Warriors glances around, but all of them look back at him with confusion. “All common soldiers learn this? You have to in order to progress through the ranks?”

“Not ringing a bell,” Time deadpans, staring at the captain with both eyes.

Warriors blinks, like the idea that his experience with knighthood not being universal is, in fact, a surprise to him. Wind can’t blame him though, considering based off of what he knows about the other, Warriors had gone through most of his experiences beside dozens of other young men, including his own childhood friends, in order to reach the rank he was at before the war started and he’d been suddenly promoted to captain.

“Well,” Four shifts, crossing his legs, “that’s a can of worms to be addressed later, but back to my question: Twilight, can you teach me escape tricks?”

“Correction,” Time sits up and turns around, eyes lingering on the captain a moment more before turning on his pup, “Twilight, Warriors, would both of you two be willing to help the rest of us learn escape methods and-” a vague hand motion is made at the soldier, “-whatever sort of training you received that all the rest of the knights here haven’t.”

The request seems to make the captain extremely uncomfortable and Wind doesn't miss the way royal blue eyes dart to him, hesitant. “Not the torture part.”

“What does that entail?” Sky asks, stare sharp and heavy in ways the man usually never is.

“Doesn’t matter,” Warriors is already moving to stand, leaving Twilight to clean up the rest of their game by himself. “I’m not teaching that to kids.”

“I am not a child!” It feels like the thousandth time he’s said that, but the look in the captain’s eyes.... yeah, he’ll let the man have this one. He's not sure he wants to see what it is that Warriors is trying to protect them from, especially after he saw everything that happened to the man during the war.

They have to recruit Legend and Hyrule from the garden, which Four does, and in the meantime Wind produces a length of rope for them to use for the exercise. The captain and Twilight are speaking in hushed whispers in the corner when Four returns with the others, and Legend shoots them a curious look as he heads over to where Wind is uncoiling all the rope he had in his bag.

“What’s going on?”

“Training exercise.” He answers, handing off the rope to the vet, who starts slightly at the contact but then helps him in re-coiling the loose chord.

“Why is the captain so tense?”

Those words make him look up, staring for a moment. Twilight seems perfectly at ease, but their soldier’s shoulders are tense, jaw set in a way he usually only has during a battle or shortly after one. Even the captain’s hands are still; devoid of their typical tremor, and if that’s not a sign to make him worry, he’s not sure what is. That said, he’s a bit surprised Legend had picked up on that. “I think he’s got bad memories of doing this before, he was pretty firm with Time about what he was and wasn’t willing to teach us.”

“Which is?”

“What to do if you’re captured or otherwise held against your will,” Time seems to materialize out of nowhere to answer the question, making Legend start slightly and scowl at the man. “Apparently most knights are trained to handle it, and I think you boys could benefit from having that knowledge too.”

“Yeah,” Legend snips, “because the shadow is totally gonna tie us to a chair and demand to know all our secrets.”

The conversation in the corner breaks off, Warriors running both hands through his hair in an agitated way while Twilight moves over to join the rest of them. “Maybe not, but the shadow ain’t the only threat out there, vet. You know that.”

The point is conceded, and the rest of them move in close, following their rancher’s example and watching as the man settles down into a kitchen chair Four had provided for their use. Twilight is not the one to start though, instead \turning his own attention, and thus the others do as well, towards the captain, who’s looking a little less like his normal self. It takes a moment, but Wind finally decides it’s the mess the man’s hair is in, that and the way all his emotions seem to have been wiped away cleanly as he stalks towards where the rancher is sitting.

“Twilight has agreed to show you all how to handle this, meanwhile, as I have the training, I will be instructing.” His breathing is off. “In some cases- most actually, the likelihood of being captured and watched by a large group is rare. Most of you don’t look like a major threat and few of you have a rank worth exploiting by your enemies, so your chances of being captured and tortured are low. The chances of questioning is also low, although possible, but considering how well you all keep your own secrets, I don’t think I have to teach you how to keep your mouths shut.” There’s the slightest quirk of a smile at that, and a few smile back.

Wind doesn’t. Wind is too busy watching the way too-steady hands reach out to take the rope Legend is still holding.

“I don’t need to teach you all how to watch the enemy, or how to be cautious, sneaky, how to move about without being seen- you know these things already.” The rope snaps in what he knows is a purposeful motion by the soldier to unsettle them, and that, if anything, is assurance that Warriors is still in there, and not entirely overwhelmed. Come to think of it, he may even be purposefully throwing them off with his behavior and appearance in order to better convey what it’s like to be held captive by a stranger. The thought actually makes him start and stare, watching closely. The hand thing can’t be faked, so maybe there’s some truth to the terrifying mask the captain is pulling; cold, harsh, calculating and seeking a reaction, but he genuinely hopes most of it really is just put on. “But how do you escape binds of different kinds? How do you quickly turn the tables to take yourself from prisoner to captor?” A twist of the hands and Warriors has made knot dangerously close to a noose. “Let’s try that, shall we?”

At his side, Legend tenses, eyes fixed on the captain as the man wraps the noose quickly around one of Twilight’s wrists, the rancher allowing himself to be manipulated as needed for the time being while Warriors twists and pulls and ties the rope this way and that. It's genuinely impressive, the kinds of knots and the effort put into them, far more than most enemies are likely to bother using, but the man still uses them, calling their attention to the different kinds and showing how some give way with a tug and others tighten, informing them that feeling the sort of knot used can be a huge step in escaping it, as it provides clues on how to manipulate your bindings to your own will.

Once the captain is finished, Twilight’s wrists and ankles are both quite effectively restrained, the rancher sitting quietly as he allows the rest of them to look over the bonds and Warriors to explain further about why certain knots are used and which ones to be on the lookout for. They are allowed to touch, encouraged even, to see how the rope feels, because- as the captain instructs them, clipped and cold- the likelihood of being granted sight is very low indeed when held captive.

“Everyone got all that?” At their nods, Warriors turns to Twilight. “Go nuts.”

Watching Twilight escape is very nearly as interesting as watching him get tied up. The rancher doesn’t explain nearly anything at all, focusing instead on getting out, but Warriors fills the blanks, pointing out that shifting, tugging and rolling your limbs can help loosen most bonds, even if it does tend to tighten the knots. “You don’t want to untie each knot, just get out of them. Most escapes need to be quick so as to actually be able to get out, but some circumstances give you time enough to pick over the knots later if you need the rope for something else. Getting a read on your situation at all times is crucial, but you have to rely on your own judgement much of the time in order to know what skills to employ and what to set aside.”

By the time the man is done speaking, Twilight is springing up out of the chair and making a grab at the captain. Almost without breathing, Warriors catches the other in a headlock. It's like watching a snake strike, one moment it looks like Twilight has him, and the next, the rancher is doubled over with their captain’s arms around his neck.

“Good try.”

Twi grins. “Woudla had’ja if I’d had time to slip my feet free.”

“Or if I’d been paying less attention,” the captain smiles, but it’s cold, thin, and very much not like their brother. The man’s hands let loose the other, leaving Twilight free to tug loose his feet while he turns back to the rest of them. “A key point is to watch for opening at all times. If your enemy turns their back or drops their guard, they give you a chance to over-power, injure, or kill them.” It’s said too coldly, too clinically, as though Warriors isn’t even talking about a life at all. He's beginning to see why the man spoke about this sort of training like he did; Warriors will be dumbing it down for them, making it something they can process, but with soldiers, commanders who didn’t give a shit about the innocence of their students, he can only imagine how this sort of thing would have been, especially paired with the knowledge that Warriors had also withstood training for torture and interrogation, so the mental strain would have been far worse then.

Honestly, maybe it’s not an act. Maybe Warriors is just used to shutting his emotions off when it comes to issues like this.

“Any questions?”

“Yeah,” it’s a new voice, one he doesn't know yet, which speaks, and it has all the heroes turning about abruptly at the sound of it, except the captain, who seems unsurprised, unlike them, to see Four’s father standing in the doorway “What on earth is going on here?”

As though of one mind, they all turn on the smithy.

“Training?”

“What kind?” The man leans in the door, one brow raised. He doesn’t look upset, maybe bemused, but Wind still feels Legend draw up stiff beside him.

“Escape training, sir,” Warriors clips, stepping forwards to address the man, “your son tells me he hasn't had a chance to undergo such training previously.”

“No.” It’s a very loaded word, “he hasn’t.” Guarded, wary, maybe even pained. Wind’s not sure, but he supposes maybe Four’s father doesn’t like the idea of his son undergoing whatever this training entails.

The captain doesn’t let the other knight’s tone bother him though. “All due respect sir, he requested that the Hero of Twilight and I instruct him, and the rest, in order that he might have some knowledge of what to do in the case of capture, sir.” Oh, Warriors is falling into soldier mode for real now. Shit.

Sir Smith notices too, apparently, face softening some as he looks at the younger soldier. “As ease, captain.”

Warriors does not relax in the slightest.

“Well,” their smithy’s father turns to look over them and the room in general, “I suppose it’s good knowledge to have, and about time you had it. Is there anything I can do to assist?”

The offer is accepted eagerly by their smithy, and while Warriors still looks somewhat tense, Wind’s quite sure it’s the nature of the training and not the man offering to help with it. No, the captain and this world’s army commander had got on like a housefire last night, and he knows Warriors likes the man. It’s fine, his brother is just uncomfortable and thus falling into familiar patterns and behaviors in order to not betray that. Given time after, and Warriors will slowly drop those and return to his normal self once he’s ready. He’ll be okay.

“Escapin’ is like pretty boy said,” Twilight tells them, standing up again now that he’s free, “it’s a matter of gettin’ the ropes loose enough t’slip out. Amateurs tend to go too loose, an’ they keep it quick an’ easy. ‘pparently soldiers cover all the bases though.” The last part is added with a snort and a light nudge at their captain.

Time nods, slowly. “Four minutes and seventeen seconds. Quite impressive, pup.”

The words have the rancher beaming.

“Right,” Warriors plows ahead, ignoring the moment and looking over each of them. “Legend, you said you’d been trained, how about you show the rest how a smaller individual can handle this?”

The vet glares at the implications but doesn’t say anything. It’s fact that most of them aren’t nearly as big as Twilight and, considering few of them possess his brute strength either, having a few examples will probably give them more to work off of in the long run. Still, there’s something wary about the way the vet approaches the chair, hands already fisted as he stands in front of it, rather than deliberately sitting as the rancher had done.

“Commander,” Warriors turns over to Four’s father (he’s introduced himself as Leon, right?) and motions to the vet. “I believe you have more experience than I.”

The elder soldier nods, in one motion both conveying respect and also submitting himself to the command of the younger soldier for the time being, which Wind thinks is very grand of him considering it’s the older man’s own house they’re in, and his son they’re teaching. Then again though, Four had said that his dad is the sort of person who isn’t afraid to let a younger person take the lead if they know what they’re doing.

He wonders how Four knows that to be able to say it so confidently. What on earth does he get up to on his own?

A question for later, he guesses. Right now, it’s time to pay attention, because even if he hopes to grow as big as Twilight, Legend and he are pretty close in size now, so this will be more useful for him than watching the rancher.

Unlike Twilight, Legend doesn’t go easily, making Leon actually have to fight against him in order to continue. That, apparently, it is good though, as Warriors makes it a teaching point, “Generally speaking,” one large hand catches the vet’s dominant one, “you don’t want to let the enemy tie you down in the first place. Honor is all well and good, but when it comes to surviving, no one’s blaming you for fighting dirty.” Something Legend is notorious for. “Watch how the vet handles this, then we’ll discuss after. Sir Leon-” that is the right name then, great! “-will probably approach it differently than I do as well, so be aware that all captors are not the same.”

And the smithy’s father definitely doesn’t handle things the way Warriors did, nor does Legend. Where Twilight had let Warriors shift and move him as needed, Legend fights, and where Warriors had given little vocal cues to his “prisoner” and guided his motions carefully, well aware that a wrong move from the rancher at close proximity could do damage, Leon isn’t nearly as careful, instead grabbing, holding, and forcing the vet’s arms behind his back before slinging a rope around them with all the speed of a sailor in a storm. Also, unlike Warriors, Leon doesn’t use a variety of knots, rather keeping it quick and tight.

“He’s got thin wrists, so a tighter bind is needed. Some tie it tight enough to harm, but that’s not the goal here. Know it happens though.” The elder soldier tells them, yanking back on the vet who makes to push away. He doesn’t try to force the vet into the chair, instead catching the younger by the collar while his free hand works, hissing, “stay still, you wriggly thing!”

Wind’s not sure what exactly about the situation is wrong, but he swears he hears the vet’s breath catch, stutter, and then with a truly terrific show of strength, Legend rips himself free of the man’s hold, kicking back against the knight and propelling himself forwards hard enough that his collar slips free from the man’s hands and the vet can stumble very quickly away. Rather than stage an “attack” though, the hero just spins about, and the whole room freezes.

Legend’s stance is too tightly wound, breath too sharp, too harsh, but most obvious is the utter and complete terror shining in blown out violet eyes.

“Shit,” Warriors is moving before any of them have a clue what to do, and all aggression, put on though it was, immediately disappears from Leon’s own stance as both knights recognize what Wind himself has as well. He doesn't know how, and he doesn’t know why, but something about the situation has acted as enough to trigger the vet into some sort of panic, and what to them is a training exercise, has become, to his mind, very, very real.

“Lad-” Leon’s motion towards the vet earns a start back, one that is made even worse when Four jumps up from where he’d been watching. Wind can’t imagine why the sight of Four, of all of the people in the room, would make Legend stumble so far back that he falls flat on his ass, but it happens. It happens and none of them, especially the smithy, miss it.

“Vet?” They’re all worried, and several of them step forwards, reaching out, ready to help, wanting to help, only for both Hyrule and Wild to grab those closest to them and pull them back, something Wind does himself, catching ahold of the smithy. The last thing the vet needs is people crowding in and leaving him no space to breathe. Being surrounded when you’re vulnerable is bad, very bad, and if watching out for Mask and watching the captain taught him anything, it’s that letting an experienced adult handle it and keeping everyone else away is the best course of action.

“Is he-” again, Leon’s voice is cut off, this time though by a strangled sound from the vet.

“Leon,” and it’s the first time that the soldier’s voice has dropped titles to use anything else, “leave.”

“Excuse me?” Four hisses, but that also seems to have a very negative effect, one that has the captain turning, slowly, voice low and soft but cold enough to freeze.

“You too, smithy.”

Whatever is about to be said in return is cut off by Leon hefting his son over his shoulder and quickly leaving the room, although both he and Four look after the others even as they exit the door. If the situation were any different, Wind thinks he might have laughed at Four’s easy acceptance of being carried like a potato sack by his father, but right now dealing with the vet takes precedence. Luckily for all at hand, even if Warriors isn’t the most qualified to run a training simulation, there’s no one better at handing panic attacks.

Despite being downed, Legend’s still managed to shift enough that the ropes Leon was working to be decently tight have been mostly ripped off, although they’ve left a nasty burn across the hero’s skin, one that’s bleeding slightly in the worst areas along the inside of his wrists. No one stops him freeing himself though, and while the performance is definitely over, there’s also a part of all of them that notes how quickly Legend pulls himself free, the sailor even hears Time whisper a soft “two minutes, fourteen seconds” to himself, slightly awed.

“Hey,” Warriors’ voice has lost every amount of edge, ice, or stiffness as he settles down in front of their felled brother, now as full of warmth as if he’s back on the field, talking Mask out of his own head after the younger hero’s namesake was put away again. “You with me?”

Ragged breathing would indicate that no, Legend is not. He’s very much not, just staring after the door where Four and his father had disappeared, eyes still wide and breath too shallow.

The captain reaches out; slow, deliberate motions, easy to track as he reaches for the other hero. “You’re okay, alright? You’re safe. We were training, but it’s over. There is no threat here.”

The vet flinches away from the hand, inches from his arm, back slamming against a cabinet and making whatever’s inside clatter loudly, which just sees to further unsettled the shaken hero, who jumps at the sound, whipping his head around to look back, only to flick unseeing eyes back towards the captain.

Warriors doesn’t so much as falter, using his lifted hand to slowly push shaggy hair out of where it’d been over his eyes for the last while, messy and just slightly wavy at the ends, like he’s not had time to straighten it in a while. “Hey, it’s me. It’s Warriors, you in there, Link?”

Violet eyes flicker across the older man’s face, and this time, when Warriors reaches out, Legend doesn’t start away again, although he watches the hand reaching for him like it’ll produce a knife at any second. Luckily for all, the captain’s not capable of that sort of a trick, and all his hand does is catch one of Legend’s own, not by the wrist as Leon had done, but gently catching fingers in his own and guiding them towards himself, pulling the vet’s hand to settle over his chest, eyes locking with the other’s as he breathes a long, purposeful, breath.

Just like Mask used to, Legend mimics the action, although his own breath catches some. It doesn’t stop the captain from trying again though, and slowly, steadily, Legend’s breathing evens out again, clarity returning to his eyes like stars coming out at dusk.

“There you are,” their brother breathes, soft and warm and gentle and everything that eases tension and doesn’t spark it further, “keep breathing, you’re okay.”

Just because he says it though, doesn't mean it works, because the next breath that escapes their brother sounds more like a strangled sob.

Warriors doesn’t so much as falter. “You’re okay. It’s alright,” the hand that lifts is flinched back from, so the captain drops it again, resting it only over the hand still pressed to his own chest. “Keep breathing- there we go. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

The dart of dark eyes to the door betrays that Legend doesn’t believe him for a moment, but the vet shudders only a bit, focusing on Warriors again as he pulls away from the cabinets, although not so much to be closer to the captain as to not longer be shrinking away. It’s a sign of some recognition though, which is far better than nothing, and apparently a cue for the soldier to find out what is going on.

“That escalated a bit quick, wanna tell me what went wrong?”

Legend opens his mouth to answer, but a hitching breath is all that comes out, face twisting and screwing up again enough to warn that a repeat is very much in the cards.

Warriors counters quickly. “Was it the ropes? Too tight? Too many people?” He keeps the questions far enough apart to give time for a signal one way or another, but Legend doesn't do much more than force shaking breathes out as his hands reach to tangle in his wild hair. His hat fell off in the scuffle, and currently lies at Time’s feet. “Was Leon too-”

The strangled sound at the man’s name cuts Warriors off, and recognition shines in blue eyes.

“Leon.” Warriors repeats.

Legend’s eyes squeeze closed; face pinched up and shattered.

The soldier sighs. “Can I touch you?”

“No.” The fact that it’s verbalized is a huge step, and Wind sighs a breath of relief.

Warriors, likewise, accepts the boundary, shifting back a bit to grant their vet more space, but not so much as to seem like he’s leaving. “Okay, this is related to Leon. Was it how he handled you?”

Nothing.

“Was it something one of us said?”

A hitch in the vet’s breath, the captain opens his mouth to try again, to press, but Legend answers aloud again this time, voice a wreck. “I- he-” a desperate gasp for air as ringed fingers tug at messy hair, “he’s sounds-”

No doubt recognizing Mask’s same struggle with words in the other, Warriors offers his own, soft and quiet, but not yet a whisper. “Did he sound like someone you know?”

A nod. A fervent, desperate, nod as violet eyes squeeze shut again. “Sorry...”

Hearing the vet apologize has never sounded like such an awful thing. He hates it.

The captain clearly does too, but he says nothing to that effect, although the brief flick of his ears and flash of his eyes says it for him. “It’s not your fault. It happens to the best of us.”

A scoff. Yeah, Legend’s still in there.

Warriors presses on. “No really, it does. It sucks, but it happens.”

Dark eyes peek open, fixing on the captain.

“Yes, even with me.” The smile there is pained, strained, but real, despite all, and the flick down of the vet’s eyes to still outheld hands prompts the captain to reach out once more. “Would you like me to touch now?”

There’s a pause, nothing said, and nothing done, just a stillness as Legend considers the offer. He’s wary about touch even on good days, but usually only when it’s expressly offered or pointed out. When no one says anything, it’s usually met with acceptance as long as it’s not demeaning in any way.

As though catching onto a similar train of thought, Warriors changes his offer. “I could lend you my scarf?”

A glare. Okay, rude, it’s not that demeaning! Wind likes the scarf! Mask adored the scarf! Enough to throw fits when it wasn't his turn with it! Legend doesn’t have to want it, but there’s no need to make faces like that! It earns a laugh from their captain though, eyes creasing the way they rarely do, and only when he really means it, hand falling to rest gently on the foot of the other. Legend doesn’t shake him off, just stares, then lifts his gaze back up to search the captain’s face again.

Warriors meets it, smile fading back to the sad one again.

The vet’s gaze drops, arms falling to wrap around himself rather than digging his fingers into his scalp. “He looks-” a breath, harsh and strained, angry as it whishes between clenched teeth, brows drawing low with inward turned frustration, “the- our-”

“He looks like someone you know?” At yet another, hesitant, nod, Warriors presses further. “Someone who hurt you? Maybe someone you used to trust?”

A sigh. A slow nod before the vet’s head drops to rest against his raised knees. He's still shaking.

It’s clear as day that Warriors wants nothing more than to wrap an arm around their brother, pull hm close and assure, but he doesn’t. No, the captain respects the established boundary and doesn’t move any closer, hand just resting on one ankle as he crouches in front of their brother. “I get that.” his voice is softer now, bittersweet, “it sucks, I know. There's someone you trust and then you can’t trust them anymore, and it’s hard, especially when you meet someone who reminds you of them.”

Shit. Wind knows he shouldn’t, knows both he and Time know better, but neither can help it as they turn their focus on the captain, wary and watching. That is never a good subject to talk about, but the fact that Warriors is the one broaching it for the first time in forever is frankly shocking.

“You too?” Legend’s trying to pass off a tired smile of his own, but it just looks like he’s trying not to cry.

The captain nods, lifting his hand (definitely noticing how Legend’s breath catches at the loss of contact) and instead turning to lean his own back against the china cabinet, settling in beside their shaken brother, eyes falling closed in what’s both an open sign of trust, but also an obvious bid to ignore the sharp stares of both his boys on him. “Yeah, me too. It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Sounds just like him,” Legend says, the first full sentence since he’d gone down, and Wind doesn't miss the way the other hero leans a bit closer into the captain’s space, although he doesn't touch him. “Looks like ‘im too.”

Blue eyes open again, turning past all their curious and worried ones to watch the vet, warm and gentle, that same look that he’d turn on Mask, and Wind doesn't doubt it was turned on him too, when Warriors thought they weren't looking.

The vet shudders, steeling himself up again, walls visibly reconstructing before their eyes. “He used to visit, when I was small. I saw him like a grandfather-” and they crumble again, the vet blinking violently, voice small. “He has granddaughters my age.”

“What happened?” Wind doesn’t mean to let the words slip, but they do.

Legend’s head hits the cabinet doors. “Corrupted.”

The captain nods. He knows. Wind knows that he knows. “I’m sorry.”

“He sounded just like him.”

“I know,” it’s a hysterical sort of laughter that escapes the older hero this time, “trust me, I get it. Every time I hear an Ordon accent, any time someone suggests playing chess,” the captain’s eyes roll upwards, and Wind’s kind of shocked when he realizes there’s tears there. “It sucks. Gods it sucks, but you live with it. I wish I could say it gets better, but I’m not there yet.”

Pink hair drops, settling against faintly shaking shoulders. “You were close?”

Suddenly the moment before them feels too private to witness anymore. Suddenly, being there feels wrong, hearing Legend ask things that everyone at home in Warriors’ world knows better than to speak of. He doesn't know why Warriors answers, maybe out of guilt for pulling the vet into the exercise, maybe out of a need to set an example or assure, maybe out of his own sort of desperation, but an answer is given.

“Yeah. Grew up together. He teased me for my accent, I teased him for his. We ran our mothers to worry and our commanders to madness. I hauled his ass out of prison, he watched mine on the field. Heck,” a smile, bittersweet as the captain settles a cheek in rosy hair, “we went through our trailing- kinda like what I was trying to show the others- we did that together too.” A soft scoff, not a sob, but close, “I think he’s the only reason I made it through training t’all. Would’ve gone mad wit’out ‘im.”

“What happened?” Twilight dares speak up, and Wind doesn’t miss the way the man’s thick accent is held in check, nearly gone altogether. So, Twi did hear the comment about Ordon.

The captain sighs, lifting his head and staring out at the rest of them, eyes fixing on the rancher last of all. “Ganon. As with most things.”

Twilight winces.

Warriors chuckles. “Some days it’s like he never left though. He’s still on my ass, still callin’ me ‘pretty boy and tryin’ to get a rise outta me.” Wind doesn’t miss how Twilight’s face crumbles when he realizes blue eyes are still fixed on his. The captain doesn’t either, smile twitching alive again. “It’s nice, sometimes, like seeing what he’d be like if nothing happened. Other days, it’s difficult, and it makes it hard to get through the day.”

“How do you handle us?” Legend breathes, half scoff and half awe, eyes trying for a smile again and doing much better. It’s not happy, but it’s kind.

The captain doesn’t miss it. “Hylia only knows,” he teases, knocking his shoulder against the one still pressed against it, and then, more serious, “I draw back if I need. Sure, Twilight reminds me of him a lot, some days, but then he does something Gassun would never, or does something so stupid only a hero would do it, and then I remember again and I’m fine.”

“Really?” The Stare of Disappointment was definitely something Time learned from the captain, so Wind can’t fathom why the man tries to use it on their brother, but here he is, doing just that. “You expect us to believe that?”

“Have faith in me,” Warriors snorts, “I don’t wander around in my own head all day. If I did, you’d’ve burned the world down already!”

It sort of ends like that. Warriors redirecting their attention and Legend rolling his eyes at their antics, slowly uncurling again until Four’s mother comes back inside and requests access to her kitchen again. They scatter after, Warriors throwing an arm around the vet and guiding him upstairs so they can have a talk, Time going off in search of the smithy and his father, Wild joining in dinner preparations, and the rest of them cleaning up their mess before leaving.

Hyrule still has questions for Twilight about escaping, but Sky heads upstairs after the others, worry creasing his brow in ways it rarely does, but Wind stays behind, scooping up Tongs to keep him company in the wake of his brothers all leaving. Even so, he makes a note to ask the others how they are later.

Of course, later, Twilight also asks about what Warriors said, and the captain, to the shock of both his charges, explains himself. Thinking back, it’s no wonder Warriors sees a resemblance; Twilight may have spent his last few years in Ordon, but the military haircut is still very present, a mirror of the captain's own and quite similar to said captain's old friend. Granted, Twilight is darker, hair redder and eyes bright blue, but the accent is the same, rough manner so similar, and the nicknames definitely finish the picture. He doesn’t like the implications of that, not for either of the two, but Twilight walks out of the conversation only looking someone thoughtful, rather than upset, and Warriors seems normal enough, although still quiet for the rest of their time in the smithy’s Hyrule.

Collectively, they agree to abandon the escape training. If they want tips, they’ll go to Twilight, but the emotional toll taken on both the vet and the captain isn’t worth it to any of them. Not a second time. Not when they all regret the first one.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #lu wind #lu legend #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu wild #lu four #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu time #four's dad #good golly it went on forever!#the boys are't letting me keep ANYTHING brief this month #vengeance for not finishing previous months I guess

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dontbesoweirdkira · 8 months ago

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For a cunty request can I have a time traveler reader with any of mafia? Maybe Vico or Tommy?

A/N: oh this is going to be hilarious! Thank you for requesting…stay cunty😘✨ (hopefully I did your idea some justice. I didn’t entirely know what scenario you wanted so just some general thoughts)

Warnings: ⚠️a little bit of Joe Barbaro ⚠️

Masterlist

Requests: open 24/7

I’ve chosen Vito because have you ever seen those memes where it’s like, “a victorian child would probably have an aneurysm over this”, yeah…that would be Tommy if you appeared in his timeline

Like that man is stressed the hell out enough! Don’t go ruining his life further with your shenanigans.

Besides Vito would definitely take this far better than anyone else with the exception of the characters from mafia iii. My brother has been to prison, shipped out to war, and now suddenly in the mob…he’s definitely seen some unspeakable shit..

Every soldier has at least one paranormal experience…for him it just happened to be your dumb ass.

He’s not amused by you in the slightest at first..what the fuck is an iPhone and why are you dressed like an idiot? Are you high on something or just unwell?????

“Look Lady, I really don’t have time for this shit and I have places to be. If you need something there’s a Salvation Army right down the block..”

Of course you keep persisting that you’re perfectly fine and that you’re actually from the future. I can just imagine Vito speed walking away with an exasperated expression plastered across his face; you're just continuing to spew nonsense as you follow him.

“I-I don’t want to hear you talk about your fucking bullshit future! Please just go away.”

This man’s blood pressure is through the roof at this point. He’s even trying to physically shoo you away, if it wasn’t for his background he would’ve taken you to the police department.

“Okay do you want a dollar? Huh, will that make you finally stop yapping?? Actually, here take 20 and go away.”

Eventually he just gives up. You’re the most hard headed individual he’s ever encountered and he let’s you follow him. You’re obviously not giving this up.

Partly thinks this is some kind of prank Joe set up to get back at him.

So naturally his first instinct is go go find Joe because if he has to hear the crazy shit you’re spewing, so does he.

Worst. Mistake. Ever.

At first Joe is also trying to get you to leave his buddy alone. Even offering you money just like Vito did earlier but then a light bulb goes off!

Joe’s main mission in life is to piss off Vito and for him…golden opportunity right here for free.

“Sooo…Y/N was it? Tell me, if you are from the future, will Vito always be this fugly?”

“Oh shut the hell up for once would ya? This is a serious situation we have on our hands and you think this is the time to be making jokes??”

“Maybe not fugly but he will end up being a grumpy old man with no wife or kids.”

Joe absolutely loves you and you’re now besties

“Oohhhh no. You two will not be in cahoots!! Joe stop fucking around.”

Don’t worry, Vito eventually comes around to you. He kind of has to now that Joe is riding this thing so hard.

Neither one of them truly believes you though. At least not at first. It’s kind of difficult to prove until the event you’re warning them about actually comes to pass.

You are able to tell them extremely detailed facts and information about themselves and the mafia. You warn them about Henry and give tips about different tasks.

This made them suspicious of you and blew you off as some kind of narc for knowing so damn much. It wasn’t until things started becoming true, they came running right back to you.

They’re both feeling a mixture of excitement, concern and confusion.

Joe doesn’t understand that you only know main historical events and wants you to give him the winning numbers to the lottery.

Vito on the other hand thinks you’re some sort of crazy psychic or maybe one of them aliens from the film he had just seen.

Either way you’re definitely not from here.

Ultimately Vito doesn’t entirely know how to handle all of this. I don’t think anyone would ever be able to fully process this happening. After all you’ve predicted and protected him from, he just accepts that you’re who you say you are.

You’re not a threat to him and Joe seems to really enjoy having you around so I guess he doesn’t really mind you either. He lets you stay at his place too. It’s the least he could do after all your help and the shit he gave.

At least you’re not as bad as that kid, Marty.

#vito scaletta #joe barbaro #mafia headcanon #mafia ii #mafia 2 #headcanon #vito scaletta x reader #mafia trilogy #mafia definitive edition #mafia 3 #tommy angelo

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catihere · 6 months ago

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GOD I’M SO UPSET

I only just realized that Chris got out of the Labyrinth at about the end of TTC, while Ethan joined the army at the end of BoTL. So, by canon timeline, they never were in the army at the same time. The only points that they might have had contact with each other are when they were both at camp in the Hermes cabin and when they were both in Labyrinth, a place where it’s… unlikely to cross paths with anyone. So. The problem.

My dumb ass started writing a freaking canon-compliant one-shot where they are both on Princess Andromeda! And I was enough of an idiot to not realize that it wouldn’t be possible! That leaves me with three options to fix my mistake:

1. Fuck canon, I am a god of my own making and these characters are pawns in my own game

2. Cut Ethan entirely from the fic (I won’t be doing that)

3. Split the story in two: the Chris scenes happen, time skip, the Ethan scenes happen. The Chris & Ethan interactions were not that important anyway

4. Just give up on the fic already nobody gives a shit anyway

What am I doing with my life?

#I dunno why I made this post it’s not like anybody cares #chris rodriguez #ethan nakamura #pjo #pjo fic #titan army #botl #percy jackson

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daenerystargaryen06 · 1 year ago

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I am totally convinced that GRRM requested that “Song of Ice and Fire dream” scene to totally destroy that bs book from D&D’s putrid final episode where they had that idiot Tarly’s book be called that

Oh, most definitely. But I also think it goes more into depth than just that. GRRM has already expressed his disagreement and disappointment in the way the show ended, and how D&D excluded him from the shows production to do things their own way after diverting from the books.

I think GRRM added in the scene to discount the battle against the WW. It was too 'easy' in the show. The so-called 'Long Night' only lasted one night, stupid decisions were made in that battle (such as Jon using Dany's men in the frontlines as mere human shields and causing a majority of deaths within Dany's army), and the final killing of the NK just felt so... bland in the end. Jon hardly did much throughout the battle as well, just either sitting on Rhaegal, fighting the NK for a little bit, then screaming at undead Viserion. I think GRRM wanted to add in the fact that the WW are the true evil of the series to be worried about, and that the battle against them won't be so easy.

I also think it was GRRM's own little tease towards Daenerys being Azor Ahai/Prince that was Promised. Dany fits the prophecy for the PTWP within the books and already has several factors into pointing its her (or her and two others who can ride Rhaegal and Viserion into battle with her). Dany's theme was the one that was playing during Viserys' conversation with Rhaenyra over the dream within HOTD. It can also serve as a small backhand to the trash that was the final season from GRRM himself due to what D&D did with his story and characters overall. It builds into a thematic point and underlying hints since Viserys tells Rhaenyra 'a Targaryen must sit the Iron Throne' in order to lead the battle against the WW, and I think it's Daenerys who GRRM wanted to hint at being that Targ.

It definitely was a serve to downplay and criticize the absolute garbage D&D did to incorporate A Song of Ice and Fire into the show through Sam's dumb book at the end after they destroyed the show and its characters, but I also think it was a hint towards the ASOIAF series as well by GRRM as to what the true evil of the series was supposed to be (not Dany or Cersei, the WW) and also the fact that it could very well be Daenerys as the one who must lead the people against the cold and the dark as Azor Ahai/PTWP.

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therealslimshakespeare · 1 year ago

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What is Elvis like as a father in law? I pretty much see him treating Donna and any of the other women who join the family similar to how he talked to fans at times. Everyone is darlin ', sweetheart, honey hahaha. Wanting to take everyone under his wing and spoil em. Especially Donna because she basically saves two of his kids.

This man -you’ve nailed it.

He loves people. We’ve established this. He adores his kids. Now, people who love his kids? Oh that’s just a beautiful upper tier of love from him. He loves them, he squirrels them away in rooms just one on one to grill them about their interest in a off-putting but lovingly intense way. He inducts them into the family with all the pomp and circumstance of a born performer while also taking care to give them private and subtle assurances of his welcome.

Of course there was Ella‘s fella Johnny, and the time Elvis put his dumb blonde head through the penthouse drywall. But that was no aspersion against Johnny’s good character, his valiant service to the nation as a soldier in ‘Nam or any real man-to-man dislike. It was entirely to do with a red blooded man marrying his 18-year-old baby. Elvis had sworn as a young father he’d kill anyone who came for Ella: Johnny can be glad he only has a permanent goose-egg back there from the incident. A few months of good intentions and proof that Ella is happy with her choice and all can be forgiven. Besides, Elaine seems charmed by Johnny and Elvis hates being anything but on the same page as Tink.

Now Jack’s lady, she is a whole Lotta woman, so much Woman that some idiots might call her masculine, but that’s just her broad shoulders and brusque attitude leading you astray. Live and let live, Elvis believes, and he can sympathize with Jack. He knows a thing or two about the positive affects of your lady not letting you get away with shit. Or conversely only allowing you to in her company or under her supervision. It only takes Elvis a few months to get a read on Vic and stop trying to spoil her with jewels or perfume, instead he buys her cigars in the vain hope that she’ll stop swiping his.

And then of course there is Danny and his precious Bee, raised most of her summers at Graceland and practically a Presley child until Shiloh had to play matchmaker and Danny had to make it weird and marry her. Oh well, at least they’re compatible and Elvis already approves.

And there’s Rosalee and her Sam Harrison, who Elvis likes well enough as he’s the son of an army buddy, even if the fool boy married someone else in the interim

and Daisy’s bloke ain’t half bad for being British, being known as Rosalee‘s kind professor, he’s got brownie points in the Presley family before Daisy attached herself to him, he’s a calming influence on that wild child and the rest of them, someone for Elvis to smoke with and talk about spiritual things.

And then there’s Donna. Now, Elvis does not have favorites, alright? He really doesn’t, Donna’s not his favorite. Don Don can’t be, as she is not a favorite, she is a fairy, a precious angel sent from above to patch up his babies and bring joy to their household. Whenever sweet Don Don is not being clutched by Jesse or gossiping with Jack or posing for Marie, her tiny self is tucked under Elvis’ armpit while he shows her his latest hyper fixation. She’s written many a caption for a polaroid after he complained of his bad handwriting and morosely wished upon a star within her earshot for some young helper to come along and aid him. Donna didn’t expect Elvis Presley to be so endearingly human -but he is, and it almost makes her forgive that horrid nickname.

…and then take into account the grand-babies that come from these…

#sarge asks #sarge: 2nd gen #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine

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mollysunder · 1 year ago

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Why Did Jinx Make Fishbones Look Like Finn?

You know, as much as Fishbones works as a touching homage to Silco, with its clever inclusion of Silco's visual motifs like his scarred eye and aquatic apex predator imagery. Fishbones also works as a subtle dunk on Finn.

Compared to the original canon, Arcane's Fishbones is more personalized to Jinx's history. So while Fishbones now captures a lot of Silco's style, Fishbones also gets a golden jaw, and only one person has that kind of prosthetic, Finn.

But then you'd have to wonder what makes Finn so special to include on this masterclass weapon that was Jinx's ultimate gift to Silco. These two chembarons couldn't be more different in style and motivation. They wouldn't be in the same room if they both didn't explicitly need something from the other. That's when I realized that in a technical level, Jinx and Finn serve the same purpose for Silco.

Jinx is a well known and feared agent for Silco that makes weapons and dishes out violence, she's practically a one woman army. While Finn's gang, the Slickjaws, operate as hired guns and weaponsmakers. Finn was probably so ready to undermine Jinx in the eyes of the other chembarons and Silco himself because she made Finn less relevant to Silco.

Finn could still be an important chembaron as his gang ran an lucrative industry in Zaun, but Silco never had to be completely dependent on Finn in his Shimmer operation because he had Jinx. And for a businessman like Finn, Jinx was practically working for free! So it's not like he could buy her out, or outright kill the boss's daughter. One, dumb move, and two, low chance for success.

This all begs the question, how deep did the rivalry and resentment run? Was it one-sided? Probably not, because Jinx isn't an idiot and knows when people don't like her. Jinx probably never killed Finn, one, because I'd doubt he ever talked about her the way he did to her face. Two, because she wouldn't outright disrupt an important business relationship for Silco, at least not until recently. But with Fishbones, that all changes, it's the pinnacle of her talents that far surpasses what others like him could do. Fishbones is not just an act of love and dedication, but a power statement against anyone who challenges her position. For Finn and the Slickjaws in general, she can easily replace them with whatever she chooses to make.

Alternate theory: Hell, maybe Silco had Jinx train under the Slickjaws, possibly in an apprenticeship like how Renni's son worked in Silco's factory. Renni's son was probably sent to study the alchemy of Shimmer production, he wore a mask like the original chemist in the Cannery did. And when Jinx proved to be incredibly talented in weapons-crafting and fighting, Silco likely made sure she stayed by his side. Finn could have resented that he lost out on a great asset that turned into competition.

#arcane #jinx arcane #finn arcane #silco arcane #maybe next season we'll see flashbacks of Finn just beefing with a younger jinx #the alt is intriguing tho #chembarons don't fully trust eachother but recognize the necessity of their heirs to understand the respective industries #which leads to a complex system of apprenticeships that can double as polite hostage situations #or just to wndear the next generation to the existing industries #who knows #arcane meta #arcane speculation #arcane headcanon #sort of

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centrally-unplanned · 5 months ago

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House of the Dragon "peace arc" was generally cringe though with a bright spot at the core. Rhaenys came off the worst for it; sitting in a council meeting getting news that the enemy has marched an army, taken two of their castles, and sacked a city and calling those wanting to respond to that warmongering idiots is an amateur hour moment. It isn't like Rhaenyra was heading to King's Landing to surrender or anything, she wanted a negotiated peace. To get that, you need a position of strength - otherwise your enemy is less likely to make peace with you, as the cost of killing you is so low. "War begets war" is an aphorism, not an iron law; this cowardice in the name of conflict avoidance serves neither peace nor their war. Smack their advancing army with a squad of dragons and show them "hey, this is what More War is gonna bring - let's give peace a chance hm?" You only make peace with your enemies, after all, reminding them of that fact is not the barrier to peace naive instinct thinks it is. And then you also aren't telling your own vassals you are going to ditch them in the face of fire, bonus!

The way she seems haughtily superior to the "squabblings of men" while making a fool or herself is a real directorial fail, it is almost accidentally sexist - poor wimmins can't understand Clausewitz. Though I gotta give the actress Eve Best some unintentional credit:

I guess she fucking nailed it.

While I am bashing Rhaenys, the framing of the Vhagar/Meraxes fight is very strange - Rhaenys has clearly won the battle, because Sunfyre is pretty much dead, and you would likely bet Aegon with him, and the way it is shot strongly suggests Rhaenys successfully retreated while Aemond is not at all in pursuit. The whole battle was clearly a trap that she had just dodged. Then she doubles back anyway against a much stronger foe and loses while dealing no apparent damage. Why do that dumb thing? It's both way too risky and also strategically foolish - Meleys as the Black's strongest dragon is highly needed as a deterrent force. It would be more reasonable if Rhaenys was a proud warrior type, proud warriors do that kind of thing ("I can't abandon Rook's Rest!"), but she was defined by her caution up until she chose suicide-by-dracarys.

In the books she is ambushed by a cooperative Aegon/Aemond and dies fighting, easy peasy. The logic is sound, it is a weird change to make.

Speaking of bad tactics, why only send one dragon? If the other dragons were busy that would be one thing, but they mainly aren't, they are doing nothing of note at the time, you have like 4 of them. In the book Rhaenyra is being a bad leader, too grief-stricken or cowardly to go herself, and too possessive of her sons to let them fight; it is shown as a mistake. In this show it is shown as a moment of Rhaenys's courage; she is like "I will go your grace" and everyone is like "oooh" and the question of why this is a solo mission just gets swept aside. Again, you know Vhagar is stronger than you, teamwork is the only real chance you have, while having more dragons is your primary advantage. The Blacks can and should make mistakes, but it has to be framed as mistakes by the show.

This is of course downstream of the "make Rhaenyra the Good Guy" decision; but beyond the Rhaenys idiocy I think this worked great for her here. She didn't hesitate to help her allies; the moment she returned from her failed peace mission, she got right to work. Trying to make peace was idealistic but people are sometimes. And meanwhile I continue to support the Aegon's Dream choice - it really does give her this solid motivation beyond power for her commitment to her inheritance. It is framed really well - like she herself only half believes the prophecy. She is choosing to believe it because she is stuck now and needs moral certainty for the choices she is going to make. That is a very human thing to do, and insightful to essentially admit her own biases out the gate. It makes her likeable without giving her a moral pass for anything.

I do think the show has tipped a bit too far into the "greens = bad guys" camp in comparison though. I would have fixed that by making Rhaenyra more directly complicit in past crimes like killing those who called her children bastards, show she is too committed to this whole "law & prophecy above all" bit, and that the Greens have some legitimate grievances against her. But we may see her get corrupted by the war yet; hopefully they have the courage when it matters most.

#house of the dragon

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nerdieforpedro · 1 year ago

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You're not Broken

Frankie Morales x plus size female reader

Fanfiction: Teens and up

Masterlist / Francisco “Catfish” Morales Masterlist

Approx word count: ~2200 (I edited a bit after starting my draft post.)

Warnings: references to smut, descriptions of past violent traumatic events, depression, PTSD, minor physical altercation (wasn't intentional), anxiety, self-deprecation, Fluff at the end

Notes: I'm happy to finally have a fic for Frankie Friday! In many of my fics as of late, the angst has been HEAVY, this one is no exception. I tried to include all the warnings I thought would apply, please let me know if I need to add anything. I think at some point depending on what weird, painful, happy or fun path life has taken you down, we all may feel broken at some point.

We're not, we're just humans in an imperfect world just trying to figure it out.

The same question had been nagging your thoughts for the past month, “Why doesn’t he let me sleep over at his house?” You’d been with your boyfriend Frankie for three months, getting to know each other, having mind-blowing sex and having a great time so you thought. You’d even met his daughter, Camilla, who was an adorable two year old toddler a few times. Frankie would sleep at your place, playing big spoon to your little spoon, his strong arms wrapped around you, his chin and scruffy beard against your shoulder and neck. You’ve been to the man’s house, just haven’t stayed overnight in it. You realize it’s dumb, thinking too hard about this, you’ve only been together three months, it’s not that long, but it’s also not that short either, at least to you. He makes sure you get home safe from your dates and calls to let you know he’s in his house safe.

One night, you decide that tonight you’re going to ask him why, why he doesn’t want you in his house overnight. Frankie doesn’t offer an explanation, only that he didn’t realize that it was that important to you. Instantly, you feel like an idiot for bringing it up. He assures you you’re not and you both go off to bed, sleep soundly and he cooks you breakfast. Slowly, you spend more nights at his house, but it was one particular night within the week you had been staying overnight at Frankie’s house why he was hesitant to have you over.

It turns out, Franscico Morales is a man with layers, like an onion. He hates that analogy because his friend Santiago says it too often and Benny mentions that his feet smell like onions, anyone’s feet would after wearing heavy boots all day with no breathable material. He’s a kind man, a loving partner and a doting father. He was also a soldier in the Special Forces of the US Army. This left him with blemishes on his mind and frayed his soul, he tries to remember he’s not that man anymore and has moved on, left that behind. As a concept, he understands, but his body and soul never forget what he did in the name of his country. Most times, he can keep busy to stave off the intrusive thoughts, the fears, the self-loathing, the guilt of surviving, the blood he can still see on his hands and head shots he made. Even flying, something Frankie loves doing which lead him to the army, reminds him of his past, moving his comrades bodies to and fro, sometimes they were alive, sometimes not. Frankie has talked to some people about it, some at the VA, and those he served with, but it’s a struggle each day. He is happy though, his daughter lights up his world and so do you, his new girlfriend who he does want to see when he wakes up.

Instead, Frankie sometimes sees the faces of those left behind, those who he couldn’t save, other times, it might just be blood or his old comrade Tom on that damn mountain a hole in his fucking head. He doesn’t want to burden you with this quite yet, things are new, they’re good. He can’t bear for you to walk away as others have, scared of him, feeling he’s defective in some way. Even Camila’s mother felt that way about him, she told him he’s a wonderful father but a haunted man that can’t let anyone in. That stuck with Frankie in the subsequent years.

Now he’s here, happy that you’re lying next to him, but wondering when it will happen. When his mind will fail him again and he’ll see the past horrors taunt him once more. Thankfully you’re a heavy sleeper, he was sure that he had woken you at your place when he got up in the middle of the night and went for a walk, sat on the couch, read one of your books, scrolled through his phone and then when he was near exhausted, he climbed back into bed. You were never the wiser though, you’d wake up with that gorgeous smile and ask him how he slept, give him a kiss and ask him what he wanted to eat. It was as it should be, no nightmares, no horrid dreams, no violent visions, maybe he got three or four hours of sleep tops, but it was next to someone who treated him like he was normal. He had found that he slept slightly better at your place so he was hoping to keep that going as long as possible. The veteran would get up to four and a half hours of sleep consecutively at your home

Tonight in Frankie’s house was fine, better then fine actually because once again, he made you say nothing but his name for at least an hour. After you both came down from your highs, your boyfriend wiped you down per his routine. If there was one thing you had learned about Frankie, unless he approves, don’t disrupt his routine. He takes special care to wipe you down first then himself, encourages you to use the bathroom followed by himself. Then the pair of you got into bed, his big spoon to your little spoon. A lovely end to a lovely evening.

Except at one in the morning, you heard whispering. Frankie’s large hands weren’t on your round belly or wide thighs, instead, he had them wrapped around himself as sweat dotted his brow. An unfamiliar grimace was on his face as he mumbled something you couldn’t make out, it didn’t sound like words. You reached to touch his shoulder and he snapped back, he looked at you but his eyes were wide and unfocused. One of his hands grabbed your wrist as he draped you out of bed, he crouched behind the bedroom door. You didn’t say anything at first, shocked by what was happening but you started calling his name, first Frankie which he didn’t answer to, then you tried Francisco, he still gave you nothing. He was rattling off numbers now which were nonsensical. Finally you tried Sergeant Morales which got him to focus on you finally.

It took him a minute, but he recognized you and gasped in horror. Frankie didn’t remember getting out of the bed or grabbing you, ‘a new horror has happened’ he thought as he released your wrist. You actually hadn’t felt your hand for the last few minutes and now that he wasn’t putting any pressure on it, your wrist throbbed in pain, you winced but didn’t want to scare Frankie more than you already assumed that he was. He turned to head toward the kitchen but you stopped him.

“Wait, don’t go. I’m alright Frankie.”

“No you’re not cariño. Look at your wrist…I…”

“You didn’t mean to. I know you would never mean to. Is this…” You paused, taking a deep breath before asking. “Is this why you didn’t want me to sleepover?”

Frankie looks away for a moment, closing his eyes. Is this the moment he loses you? You say it’s fine but like hell it is. He knows your wrist hurts and you’ll be lucky if it doesn’t bruise by morning. You’re one of two people he wanted to be his best self for, you and his daughter, but he’s failed. Shown you what the outcome can be if his mind plays serious enough games with him. He looks into your patient eyes and nods. “Yes. Though not as severe as tonight was, most nights I…I don’t sleep well.”

You surprise him by embracing him, wrapping your soft body against him with your arms around him, massaging his back. “I’m glad I now know Frankie. We’re supposed to be up front with each other right?”

Frankie laid his head on your shoulder, placing a soft kiss on your round shoulder, he was in your arms and felt better, still guilty but better. Maybe you wouldn’t leave right away, he’d have time to convince you to stay at least.

“Frankie, let’s go back to bed, but I’ll be the big spoon this time.” His body stiffened, that was not part of the routine, his regimen with you. Before he could mention this, you’d pulled him back to bed and laid down, patting the pillow beside yourself. The man sighed and laid next to you in bed, giving in to your whim. He rolled on his side and felt your body against his, though your arms, especially your sore wrist didn’t quite make it around him due to the broadness of his back.

“Cariño, I think we should switch positions. Doesn’t your wrist hurt like that?” You knew Frankie wasn’t wrong, it still pulsed with pain, though slightly less since it had been a few minutes. You decided to turn on your back and patted your chest.

“Lay here then. No funny business though, we have work in the morning.” A playful grin spread across your lips. Frankie let out a happy huff and laid his head on your tender breasts as his chest lay across half your plush belly. One hand patted your head, his fingers rubbing your scalp as his other hand squeezed your hip.

“This is a lot better. You sure you can sleep like this though? Are you comfortable?” Your boyfriend asked, that was the man you knew, always concerned for your well being, even when you’re trying to get him settled.

“Yes, I can sleep through you having horrible dreams most nights.” You closed your eyes, realizing that may have been a cutting statement to make, but it was mainly directed at yourself. He’s been suffering like this and you didn’t know, slept happily without a care because you don’t remember your dreams but he does and it’s detrimental for him. “Sorry, I just…I would have tried to help you sooner you know. I get why you didn’t tell me. It’s a hellova thing to deal with Frankie.” You feel his body start to relax and to put more of his weight on you, he’s accepting of the position at least, you’re hopeful that it can get him back to sleep with minimal issue.

“Thank you cariño. I don’t deserve your understanding or your kindness.” A small acknowledgement comes from Frankie, though it makes you frown. He shouldn’t speak of himself that way, it’s not his fault his mind is in this state, it took years to become this. You had an arm that was laying across the pillows, above his shoulder, you bent it to place his scalp in your palm grasping and releasing his soft curls.

With a kiss placed on his forehead you told him, “You’re not broken Frankie. You’re entitled to so much from life. I love you and I won’t hear you talk about yourself like that. You’re too important to me.” A heat rose from your cheeks and spread throughout your body, you might burst into flames. You just told this man you loved him and you’ve only been dating him three months, that seems a bit soon. Even if a real tender moment is happening right now, that could sour it a bit or weird it out. You stayed perfectly still, closing your eyes to avoid the look on his face whatever it was. You worry too much.

Frankie is ecstatic with this turn of events. In fact, he too was wondering if it was too soon. Your plush body he loses himself in, your melodic voice where it always sounds like you’re singing his name, Camilla appeared to like you - she didn’t do the stranger danger and waddle away, you make him laugh, his friends liked you, you were aware of his past transporting discretion and although you didn’t excuse it completely, understood that he was trying to make ends meet at the time, enjoyed how comfortable he could be with you even in silence. Why shouldn’t he tell you that he loves you, especially now that you’ve said it first, though he did want to beat you to that originally. Francisco popped his chin up to look at you, your eyes were closed and he snickered, he had horrible dreams and you spun too many things inside that pretty head of yours.

“Look at me, Cariño,” he waited until you made eye contact with him. This was important after all, “I love you too and I also thought it was too soon. We’re on the same page most of the time. Stop spinning and sleep.” A small peck landed on the top of your breast before he laid his head back down.

Soon both of your respirations slowed and you slept until the morning. Frankie did not wake during the night or need an early morning walk. He had the best sleep he’d had in years. You were ecstatic to see him the next morning actually looking well rested for once, sitting on the side of the bed as he said good morning to you. Your hands pressed against his back as did your cheek - a wonderful start to the day for you both.

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