#use your existing skillset

[followerofmercy]

Hey: this is directed at my fellow Americans but it applies to everyone on the planet.

GET INVOLVED IN YOUR LOCAL GOVERNMENT. YOU CANNOT CHANGE THINGS AT HIGHER LEVELS BY YOURSELF. That's what all the 'community' talk buzzing around is about.

AND ALSO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND DON'T BURN OUT

[narsh-poptarts]

my dark link thoughts coalesced into wonderful headcanons and crazy amounts of forced perspectives and dutch angles

also sorry HW i would have included your dark link(s) but i do not have passion for your game <3 maybe next time

Some thoughts below

I have thoughts about dark link that boil down to basically two things: 1. it's always the same dark link, and 2. dark link has a very difficult time changing.

No matter how many times dark link is brought into existence, he is formed from the shadow of link usually to test link's will. that shadow can be duplicated (as seen in HW) but generally speaking it's the same guy, sharing the thought space, you know how it is. In terms of sentience/thinking for himself, I don't think there's all that much of it. He is a dark reflection/shadow of link, so shares his abilities and thought patterns (for combat) with added aggression and. evil. i guess.

As said by navi, "conquer yourself", and all that. He's a challenge to the inner will power.

That being said!!! he can have a little bit of individuality, as a treat. Just in the form of being mean and sadistic <3 he's got thoughts, he's not just a combat doll (tho in times of low power, or a greater power having the reins, he reverts to that), so he can be frustrated, vindicated, happy, etc etc. though when your thoughts are mainly "evilevilevilevilevil" your idea of these emotions are a bit skewed.

When he's summoned for each different link, i hc that it's all the same magic, so the same dark link every time. he "remembers" in an abstract sense of his role in the same way a link or zelda "remembers" their own reincarnation. tho his is less of a reincarnation and more being used over and over again. a persistence.

The iteration that's summoned reflects the current link at the time, the part of link that needs testing/defeating, so it's not an existence that he himself can change to match the present. he's locked to that first copy/shadow only. So if he were to have a second encounter with an older link, he'd look like the first time they fought, unless he was specifically re-summoned. i hc he's got limited magic, so this is not something he can do himself.

in a links-meet scenario, his form would be limited to those specific forms of the links, and it would always be the points in time in which he first encountered them, unless there's other magic either he or someone else has access to to allow him to change forms to match.

now you might be saying at this point "wouldn't he be a weaker match if he was put up against an older link?" yeah probably lol. but also!!! i like the idea that with the limited magic he has, he's able to change juuuust enough to stay relatively evenly matched. being able to play to different strengths and all that. but the base stuff is still the same, so he is decently easy enough to read if link remembers the kind of stuff he was pulling back when he originally fought dark link.

dark link also knows about all this so while limited to the particular skillset, is able to adapt slightly.

but yeah been thinking a lot about a links-meet au where dark link is there choosing a different link to be every time he appears to the party.

though there are a couple links that he never impersonates in their games!!! so can't change into those guys unless he gets a new round of copycat magic.

Anyways goodbye guy standing there with standard camera angle, i have dutch angles and forced perspective

[munariplans]

welcome home, red | natasha romanoff

synopsis: natasha knew going on a mission where you were deliberately left out was a bad idea. going on a mission tracking down your ex-girlfriend was even worse; for natasha finally learns how jealous she can get.

natasha romanoff x reader | felicia hardy x reader

word count: 6.7k words

a/n: i see your requests for jealous!natasha with spidey!reader, and i got you :) hope you enjoy!

masterlist

BREAKING NEWS: CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT? you know what they say, strike when the iron is hot! well, the black cat, infamous for her string of break-ins and robberies, may have struck the iron and burned herself. stealing a prized necklace from the wife of new york’s biggest crime boss, the black cat has certainly outdone herself this time, because silvio manfredi is out for her head, and everyone else’s too! read more on page 6 of this exclusive piece. 

perplexed expressions, furrowed eyebrows, sighs of frustration. everyone was on edge, at the threat of the manfredi family wanting to blow up entire parts of new york in order to find the black cat. villains were so dramatic, natasha thought. in no universe would she have ever wanted to threaten to kill entire cities for the love of her life, if one even existed. 

but then her phone chimed in with a notification from you, sending a photo of her favourite animal that you spotted on your mission, and she knew she would be retracting her words. even in life-threatening, death-defying missions that you were on, you never forgot to see her everywhere you went. stupid feelings, and stupid crushes, natasha shut her eyes, fighting the urge to giggle at a text from the person she was head over heels for. 

“natasha?”

she looked up from her phone, to realise she was the only one still in a half-positive mood. everyone else was biting their lips in worry. she regained her composure, and answered fury, “yeah?”

“you heard me? we’re not leaking this information to her. she won’t be a part of this mission at all.”

the look of confusion on her face gave her away. clint, maria, and fury answered her at the same time. 

“your little crush.”

“your wife that you claim isn’t.”

“the person you’re smiling at your phone like an idiot at.”

she glared at clint for the last remark. 

“...is there a reason why?” the mission had seemed almost perfectly suited to your skillset. 

fury merely shrugged. “no reason. it should just be you three that are privy to this information, that’s all. find the black cat, find the necklace, use it to rope manfredi in, and one less crime boss off the streets.”

even then, she had a nagging feeling that he had not been telling the truth.

– 

you ended your latest mission with a bang; quite literally. being flung about fifty metres into the air from a bomb explosion in the middle of the ocean, you would hardly call the mission a failure. no civilians were injured, you had killed the maker of the bomb along with it, and you were not dead, at least. 

washing up on shore unconscious and with water in your lungs? a concussion that would have sent any regular person into a permanent coma? being found by villagers and rushed to the medical wing of the avengers tower within a span of a few hours? almost pronounced dead on arrival? sure, you were all of those, but not dead. 

honestly, you would have given very little regard for your own life being lost in that mission if not for one person. the one person who stayed with you until the very last minute for her own mission. 

“i need to stop welcoming you back in a hospital bed, you know,” natasha grumbled into your neck, hugging you bone-crushingly when you awoke and smiled at her. 

she looked mad, but you knew she was just thankful you were home. you wrapped your arms around her waist and brought her to lie down on top of you. she was reluctant to crush your already broken ribs, but you were insistent. “i missed you too. and if i hadn’t been blown up, i had planned to bring back a souvenir from the airport for you.”

“you coming back is enough for me,” she mumbled. you knew she was never this vulnerable with anyone else. the words of because i love you were begging to roll off her tongue, but natasha knew she wasn’t strong enough for that. yet.

you let her ignore the first call for her to assemble at the loading zone, then the second, by the third, your hand had tapped her waist and she had groaned into you once more. “i don’t want to go.”

“what’s this mission about, anyway? nobody’s told me about it since i got here.”

natasha considered her choice of words for a moment, considering whether she should, when fury’s own warnings came back to her. she was never one to break promises. “just some…thing. about retrieving something and using it to lure a criminal.”

you chuckled. “seems like more of a police case than an avenger’s one. or one for a friendly neighbourhood spider.”

“well, the friendly neighbourhood spider looks like a mummy right now, so i don’t think so,” she had reluctantly got up, gathering her things, “i’ll see you in a few days?”

you let her hug you goodbye. “by then, i’ll be fit enough to welcome you home. properly.”

–

natasha once again found it hard to understand why fury hadn’t just waited for you to get slightly better, and go for this mission yourself, because the black cat’s tricks and games were definitely something you could have handled better than anyone he had assigned on the current team. she struggled to even catch up with the woman, and clint’s arrows often couldn’t squeeze deep enough into the slips and cracks she was slipping through. maria couldn’t even get a shot or trap clear to get to her. it would all have been solved so quickly with your webs zipping and getting to her; not to mention your ability to soar through the skies like she could. 

this was in addition to the fact that she was adamantly denying having the necklace with her. 

with another hit to the face, she was shouting to natasha, “i don’t have what you’re looking for!”

natasha swallowed the blood gathering in her mouth. the woman could throw a punch. “then why are you running?” black cat cornered her this time, slamming her against the wall as her breath mixed with natasha’s. immediately, it was too close, far too close. the grin that the enemy was sporting for her was glinting with mischief, and a trace of attraction. “...if someone as pretty as you were chasing me, with those fiery eyes and red hair of yours, who wouldn’t?” 

she was gone before natasha could catch her next breath, handcuffing the black widow to the pipe next to her. she had come so close. natasha knew the black cat was at her wit’s end as well; there was only so far she could run from the avengers.

–

however, one thing the woman had failed to consider, was how suspicious you found the entire operation being. rarely had natasha refused to tell you about the missions she was going on, and rarely did fury put so much emphasis in hiding it from you either. 

you weren’t in favour of stalking them, per se, but what were you supposed to do? the hospital wing was boring, and you were (almost) ready to go back to full, operational missions. the broken rib was only hurting a little bit, by that point. 

you watched maria through the tracker in her suit, flipping through yet another string of messages natasha had left unanswered. she never failed to reply to you, at least not beyond a day or two. 

sighing, you put your mask back on, and dived down the building to begin your chase. the team wasn’t far away. 

–

“we got her. hill should be able to lure her into the construction site.” clint’s comms crackled in natasha’s ear, and she set herself into position. finally, one of the traps maria had set worked. minimal casualties, a faraway location. the team should be able to interrogate her there.

natasha finally caught up. the black cat, panting and looking slightly less composed, had nowhere to run. she knew clint was on the roof, and maria was nearby. there was only the waters behind her to escape to. 

she aimed her gun, then, “let’s make this a lot easier for all of us. you hand us the necklace, you’re looking at a shorter jail term. months, maybe.”

the black cat only returned with another smart retort, before trying to take aim at maria above. she cursed and flinched when the agent successfully dodged. natasha, i am letting the arrow fly if she tries to get any closer to you, clint declared in her comms. natasha agreed. 

the woman took one step closer, natasha clicked her gun. 

“you have to let me go,” she explained, “they want me as bad as you do.”

“you’d rather come with us, or die with them?”

black cat sighed irritatedly. she darted her eyes once more, and the moment she spotted something in the sky, the ground beneath natasha suddenly shook. 

she could only see clint’s arrow fly at the corner of her vision; maria ducking down after something hit her, and then, her own gun flying out of her hands. natasha hit the ground right after, rolling away consciously to avoid whatever had caused the interruption. 

the second she gathered her bearings, however, it felt like time had stopped. her heart began beating rapidly, and she knew she should have just bypassed fury’s advice right away then. if she had, she wouldn’t be dealing with this right now. 

for if she had, natasha wouldn’t be staring down at you, standing in front of the black cat protectively, glaring at the three of them, and their weapons confiscated and broken into pieces right at your feet. 

–

you had never looked more angry. in fact, natasha had never even seen you this angry before. fists clenched, your stance was protective, the eye lenses narrowed and squinting down at her in rage. she had never been subject to even an ounce of irritation from you before. natasha was almost afraid of what would happen. 

thankfully, clint and maria had come down from where they were, clint with considerably more caution in his step than he had been much earlier.

he called your name, and, “i need you to calm down. we–”

“–i don’t need to hear an explanation.” you cut him off. behind you, the black cat grinned, and came a little closer. you seemed to pay her no mind.

“we couldn’t tell you,” maria tried helping him, but the glare you shot at her wasn’t much better.

“you absolutely could,” then, your eyes met natasha’s, and she wanted to crumble under your gaze, “you absolutely could.”

clint pointed out it wasn’t fair, that you knew how these things went, and then, in a lower tone, “she doesn’t know. let it go.”

“why were you chasing her?” you only replied, shielding the black cat when maria tried aiming her spare gun as the woman came to your side, “we had a deal.”

“our deal didn’t involve her stealing a necklace that could wreck cities. you’ve already seen the bombings down in harlem and hell’s kitchen, do you still want to protect her for this one?” 

your facade cracked in the slightest bit. only natasha noticed, but your eyes had gone slightly wider, a questioning look sent to the woman behind you. with your stance a little more tense, you were about to lower the hand protecting her, when natasha quickly realised that your confrontation had bought her just enough time.

the black cat slung her arms around your torso, and pressed a kiss to your cheek before whispering, “my hero, my spider. always coming to save me.” 

all natasha saw was blind rage before the tear gas that black cat had thrown shrouded everything else in pain and smoke. she could hear clint screaming in frustration of just what it meant.

by the time the team had torn through the gas, you and her were gone.

–

clint had exactly three seconds to register the mad woman storming towards him, before he was slammed against the wall with natasha’s face up in his. he breathed heavily, the air still thick from the gas, but natasha’s fists were enough to ground him back to reality.

“alright, enough games. i was kind then, i’m not feeling so kind now. who. exactly. is. this. black. cat?” she gritted her teeth saying the last few words, the searing memory of seeing another press her lips against you still fresh in her mind.

if he wasn’t so afraid for his life, clint would almost have found the jealousy and possessiveness natasha claimed she never had over you quite funny. 

but her hands were almost choking him by then, the anger coursing through her veins and the hurt of you keeping such a huge secret from her fuelling only her rage.

had she been a fool for trusting that you would stay loyal in your pure, unbridled love for her all this while? perhaps not. perhaps you, like everyone else, got tired of waiting for her to be ready, too. perhaps you weren’t what she thought you were after all. 

when it was clear the archer couldn’t find the words to tell her, maria answered for him. she pulled natasha away, and forced her to think clearly again.

finally, when she was calm enough to hear the both of them out, maria announced that the black cat, felicia hardy, had been your ex-girlfriend.

–

while felicia was more than happy to be swinging through the city in your arms again, you were getting more and more anxious; what clint had said still ringing in your ears. surely, felicia wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t risk her life, and so many others’, like that. surely, she wasn’t so stupid.

you landed abruptly through her apartment window, shattering the glass to her kitchen and throwing the both of you on the ground. felicia groaned at the rough landing, and you had half a mind to apologise for getting distracted and missing the window, but you remembered that you should be even angrier at her.

“what the hell were you doing?” you interrogated, and when it appeared that felicia was keen on escaping, your webs were binding her to the dining room chair. “stealing a necklace, i don’t care. but stealing manfredi’s wife’s necklace!”

“aw, so you do still care about me, spider,” felicia cooed as you took off your mask and sat across from her. you had wanted to shake her in frustration, to give you answers instead of flirting with you once again.

you held your hands out in front of her, and she continued, “bringing me home, swinging through the city, just like we used to. bailing me out from your stupid friends, trying to save the world. you’ve always been a romantic.”

“they’re my colleagues. and my family now too. you…felicia…why?” you still couldn’t wrap your head around why she had decided to steal that necklace, of all things. it was not like she needed the cash, and if she had wanted to find a way to fuck around and feed her kleptomania, there were so many other necklaces that were beautiful, worthy of stealing. surely not manfredi’s.

she shot you a dopey smile, and you sighed in frustration. there was always back and forth with felicia. “spider, spider…”

you stood to clear your head before you would resort to punching her, time being of the essence with so many parts of new york being bombed and her being her usual self around you. heading to her sink, you let the water run; you couldn’t hurt felicia even if you tried. damn yourself for never being able to do so.

but then, her voice was softer, kinder. “...you never considered if what your friends are saying is the truth?”

head hung low, you gazed up to her. the webs were gone, and she was standing over you, though keeping a safe distance. she knew you were still fuming, and confused, and feeling so many things at once. she continued, “you never considered the fact that maybe, just maybe, i didn’t steal the necklace? you blindly trust your friends, just like that?”

your spider senses weren’t tingling. she was being honest. switching off the tap, you turned to face her, and she took off her own goggles, letting her hair down. this was her best attempt at being vulnerable. but you weren’t so quick to fall for it; she had gotten past your defences before. “they’re better at being honest than you are.”

you missed the hurt look that flashed on her face momentarily. then, you stood straighter, a hand gripping the counter as you steadied yourself and what you were about to say. 

shaking your head, you faced felicia with, “this, this, is why we broke up. because you can’t stop lying, and you can’t keep the life of crime behind you. even when i told you i can’t stay with you because of it, even when i told you that…if you gave it all up, i would have done anything, anything, to provide for the both of us. i would’ve even left SHIELD, the avengers, everything, for you.”

felicia bit her lip then, crossing over the threshold between the living room and kitchen, standing before you. you weren’t on your guard anymore. she put up a hand to your cheek, the sharp claws slowly running through soft skin. she could have scratched a permanent scar there and you would have let her.

she could have let her emotions run, but felicia was always better than you were at keeping matters close to her heart guarded. instead, she scoffed, and said, “the red one. out of your friends earlier. i’ve never seen her before.”

“she’s…newer.”

“she’s pretty. smart, capable, quick on her feet.” felicia pointed out. you nodded your head, the thought of natasha being mad, and confused, suddenly sending a wave of guilt through your heart. you shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her. she didn’t know.

“she was also green with jealousy when i kissed you on the cheek,” felicia giggled, and you looked up sharply. she nodded, and continued, “are you and red together now?”

you blinked, almost letting your guard down, almost telling felicia everything. that you wished you were together with red, that you loved red more than you loved anything else, that red was all that you ever wanted. and that red, mostly, was not ready for it all, but you would gladly wait for red until she was. that you would do anything for red. that–

“don’t touch her.” you warned, voice suddenly serious. the hand on your face was removed, a death grip with your own. felicia smiled. 

“so protective, spider. i miss when you were that protective over me.”

she removed her hand from your own, and walked to her bathroom, before bringing out her first-aid kit. clint had shot an arrow that managed to slice past her thigh. you watched as she nursed herself back to health, not flinching even as she invited you to come over to help. 

felicia could tell you had a lot on your mind. bringing up natasha was probably not a good choice. but felicia still cared for you, at the very least, and helped put you out of your misery by saying, later on, “i didn’t steal the necklace, you know. i’m telling the truth.”

your eyes were still fixed on her from where you were in the kitchen. she sighed. “the avengers, and practically everybody else, think it’s me. and of course, i fit the description, i fit the motive, everything. it was so easy to pin it on me and let everyone chase after me. but i didn’t steal the fucking necklace. i found out about it being gone and me being a thief the same time you all did.”

“...then why did you run?”

she scoffed, as if you had just said the stupidest thing in the world. “because they were threatening to kill me, spider. i have the whole world against me. and…and i didn’t have you to come rescue me anymore, i thought. i had to run.”

“when you were innocent?”

“better than being killed by fucking gangsters, right?”

“you could’ve called me.”

she looked up at you. you had sat down in front of her, inspecting the bandages she had wrapped around her thigh. when you slowly unwrapped them to help put them on tighter for her, felicia asked, “...would you have come?”

you didn’t make eye contact with her. but the hand on her thigh was enough reassurance. “you know i would’ve.”

sixty seconds was not a long time. but to felicia, sixty seconds of her own contemplation, her going against her own head and morals, of thinking if it was worth what would come after what she was going to do, felt like forever. she was breathing heavily in the cold night air, your eyes were transfixed on the bandages before you, hand not moving an inch, and she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. what else she could do. 

so after those sixty seconds, felicia leaned in and kissed you. again. again and again, just like old times, just like all those heists and burglaries you had rescued her from before. your lips tasted the same, the arms around her felt as safe as ever, and when she pushed you into her bedroom and began undressing the both of you, the look of longing, and betrayed love you gave her was one she knew all too well. 

her hips moved against yours that night, hands thrashing and fingers finding their way into each other’s hair, and for a while, felicia knew she was safe again. for a while, the avengers, manfredi and his stupid goons, everyone else, was drowned out by the sound of your moans and cries, and felicia could let go. she finally reunited with her spider, even if just for a night, and what a reunion it fucking was for her.

– 

the next morning, however, you were dressed before she could even lift her head off of the pillow, shaking your head and muttering, “i have to go back. i have to go back. they’ll be looking for me.”

she could tell you were surprised by her interruption of, “and what if they do?”

“they’ll think i’m working with you. and i can’t be seen working with you.”

it felt almost cathartic to say, “fuck you.”

you then turned, a sympathetic look on your face and an apology leaving your lips in the next second. “you know what i mean, felicia.”

“you don’t think i’m telling the truth? that i didn’t steal the fucking necklace?”

you were silent for a while. your hand was crushing the shirt you were holding, deep in thought. if it weren’t for your spider senses, you would have almost missed catching the pillow felicia had thrown at you.

putting the pillow down, you then turned to her again, and said, “i’m giving you the opportunity to prove you’re telling the truth. come back to the avengers tower and work with us on finding the real thief.”

–

natasha couldn’t believe that you thought bringing felicia back was a good idea. that you thought any part of your plan was a good idea at all. 

it was one of the rare few times that she had voiced out what she thought was a stupid plan; tapping into the black cat’s skills and intel, and trusting her with information, to draw out the real thief of the necklace. it was one of the rare few times she was arguing with you. 

there had been more you’re putting all of us at risk and i don’t see a better solution exchanges between the both of you, each one escalating in intensity. the rest of the team were equally on natasha’s side, with the exception of fury, who had been brought in to weigh in on the situation. you had spent another hour convincing him earlier not to turn felicia in himself.

in the end, he stepped in, and natasha was bound to follow his directions. that didn’t stop her from sporting the most irritated, annoyed look on her face, however, as she brusquely brushed past you and felicia, who looked more than smug that she was temporarily welcomed back to the team. you were about to give chase, when fury instructed you not to. it was best to let natasha calm down first.

“pissed off red to bring me in,” felicia caressed your face then, causing you to bite your lip in annoyance as well, “i’m honoured, spider.”

–

she could feel herself sinking in jealousy; watching the way you and felicia interacted. 

you helping felicia to put on the comms in her ear and the bulletproof linings in her suit; you used to help natasha with that. even when she had gotten more accustomed to the avengers, even when she could put it on herself by then.

you letting felicia take the seat beside yours in the quinjet. it clearly was natasha’s, it even had her fucking initials carved into the armrest on it, when she was bored on a flight once. truth be damned that fury had requested you to keep felicia on a tight leash, but the seat beside yours? really? it hurt more than it should have, as natasha forced herself to avoid eye contact with you right as she stormed past you. you only realised your mistake a second or two later, seeing her angry charge to the very back of the jet, and you were just about to ask felicia to move the seat in front of yours when natasha had told you to save whatever you wanted to say to her. 

felicia could almost laugh at how nervous, and guilty, you looked all throughout the flight. if she wasn’t so on edge from the mission requirements and having to work in a team herself, she could almost feel a tinge of jealousy that you were treating your new girl better than you had ever treated her, even. red must have been special, she thought, as you finally unbuckled your seatbelt and made the journey to the back when the flight stabilised.

“nat,” you called her uncertainly, fingers digging into your palms as you waited patiently for her to finish chewing out a younger agent to look at you. then, she made eye contact with you, standing by her seat and eyes insecure, and she hated herself for not being able to stay mad at you for long.

still, she had a facade to keep. “what?”

you let out a smile when she came back to your side, gratefully taking the seat beside hers. “i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“i don’t know,” you had an inkling that you knew what, but you continued, “you’re mad at me. and i’m sorry for the disagreement earlier. i just…i have a plan, alright? and i’m sure it’s going to work, so…i wanted to defend myself. i’m sorry if it made you upset.”

she huffed, rolling her eyes. out of the corner of her eye, however, she could spot you looking even more guilty, and she relented. “you did make me mad.”

“i really am–”

“–but work is work, i know. and i trust your capabilities. you better bring the thief back with a plan, because it’s going to be a lot of paperwork and answering to board members if this doesn’t work out. and i’m not staying up late for all the nights you’re going to do that with you.”

she thought it was stupid how her heart managed to beat impossibly faster as your smile grew, nodding gratefully. “thank you for trusting me.”

then, the both of you spotted felicia unbuckling her seatbelt too, and approaching maria upfront. you made the decision to let the agent handle her for a while, returning your gaze to natasha.

somehow, the both of you managed to blurt out felicia’s name at the same time, both raising the other’s eyebrows. 

“you go first,” natasha declared. you nodded.

“are you okay with her? i know…that you’re not so comfortable working with the enemy. i’ll keep her by my side for the whole mission, and we’ll stay away, so you don’t get bothered so much.”

natasha thought it was amazing how oblivious you were; that the problem was you being too close to felicia, and not close enough to her. that she didn’t want you sticking by felicia’s side, because she was scared she was going to lose you to her instead.

“i…” before she could finish her sentence, however, maria was screaming for you, for felicia had finally annoyed her enough to warrant a restrain back to her seat. that, coupled with the fact that she had stolen maria’s watch without her looking even back at the construction site, and she had finally noticed.

i wish i didn’t have to share you with her, was what natasha wanted to say, as felicia giggled at your rough handling of her back to her seat, attempting to squirm out of your grasp. 

–

the mole had been from SHIELD; as felicia’s expertise let on. she had data from all around new york, obtained less than illegally, and with the technological expertise from maria, the team managed to crack down just who had been plotting for the downfall of manfredi, and collaterally, new york, all along.

the jet made a ninety degree return after wasting time chasing a lead that had previously run dry, and you  were at the other end of a phone call receiving fury’s wrath at the discovery of there being a mole from SHIELD. you had wanted to tell him it wasn’t so surprising, with the onslaught of rapid new hires, but decided to hold your tongue. 

it was you who finally proved that having felicia onboard was a good idea. coming up with a plan in a span of a few minutes, it was so well thought-out and elaborate, maximising everyone’s skills and covering every single possible outcome for capturing the thief, natasha found herself incredibly endeared with your cleverness; hanging on to your every word as you explained the details to the team gathered around you. 

in fact, her dopey look directed at you was what prompted felicia to snicker, and blurt, “so smitten with our spider now are we, red? earlier you looked like you wanted to bite her head off when she was fighting for me.”

to natasha’s surprise, it was you who stepped in first, “enough, felicia. focus.”

it was all the more attractive, and endearing, when she caught you preventing felicia from leaving later, warning her with a “don’t touch her” again, whatever it meant. natasha had wanted to throw her arms around you and kiss you right in that moment.

–

with felicia on her right, and you close behind her, natasha was chasing the thief, almost expertly slipping in and out, zigzagging through the maze of buildings surrounding the area. but you knew that the road would end at an intersection, and natasha and felicia would inevitably have to split to take a chance on where the thief would go. 

and while natasha had hoped wholeheartedly that you would take her side, and trust her instincts, her movements faltered when she snuck a look behind to find you gone. in the next second, you were by felicia’s side, helping her whizz through the crowds and getting even closer to the thief as you flew. 

heart beating fast in her chest, she hadn’t noticed how much it hurt to even see you choose someone else, even for a brief moment. you had made the decision that would best benefit the team, she knew, but professionalism didn’t count for the ache in her heart then, as she picked up her pace again and unwillingly round the corner in hopes of cutting off the culprit. 

–

it was felicia that landed the final blow; catching the thief with a taser sharp enough for you to stop him mid-air, and pinning him to the ground. and after some struggle and maria finally arriving with backup, you were finally relieved of your sudden duties to go on a mission so soon.

catching your breath, you didn’t realise how much your ribs were actually hurting until then. maybe minding your own business the next time wasn’t such a bad idea. 

but then, felicia was by your side, providing a shoulder for you to hold on to for support, as you heaved and pressed your arms against your ribs in an effort to stop it from hurting when you breathed too hard. it was one of the few kind things she had done; the least she could do for you after you’ve helped to clear her name, once again.

you leaned into her support, and upon sensing that her job, and temporary alliance with the avengers, was done, she whisked you away briefly to discuss her options before the actual avengers took matters into their own hands. 

natasha watched from a distance as you walked away in felicia’s arms; understanding how betrayed you could have felt with the avengers, and how painful it must have been to find a mole in the very organisation you had worked for for so long. what she couldn’t understand was how you could possibly be leaving her, when you would be taking her whole heart with you if you left, as well. 

if natasha had more courage, she would have at least tried to stopping you. but she couldn’t, and wouldn’t, ever want to force you to stay. even if it was possibly the last time she was seeing you, even if it meant the possibility of you leaving before she has the chance to tell you she loves you.

her chest was closing in on her, breaths short and restrictive, and natasha knew she had to get away before the world caved in on her.

–

felicia led you into a clearing, and you forced yourself to let go of her to lean against a wall. you could tell she was looking at you with pity, and bit your lip at the foul taste it left in your mouth. 

“compromised intelligence, your friends at each others’ throats, your own boss not trusting you enough to see me again,” she pointed out, hiding a teasing smirk, “your future’s looking bright, spider.”

“thanks.”

she watched you slide down the wall, the pain exploding on your side. you hated that she sunk to your level, and reached out for your hand. you didn’t know why you let her. her fingers were cold as she held your own. 

“give it up, then. there’s no hope staying now, right?”

you let out a sneer. “then where would i go?”

“with me. come with me. would you be able to do it? give all this up for me now?”

you realised that felicia had suddenly grown more vulnerable; her eyes a little teary and her lip between her teeth. her other hand was helping you hold on to your injury, her touch cold and unsure. a sigh left your lips, knowing her usual teasing glint was gone. this was the felicia you loved most in the past.

but it was not felicia you loved, not anymore. and while you were thankful for the opportunity to love her, and that you didn’t regret what you had with her, you knew your heart was with someone else now. someone who was waiting for you to return home to her, someone who loved you more than you knew of it yourself. 

you slowly removed the hand that was holding your injury, smiling at felicia. she knew.

“red?”

“i have red now. and you and i are better off apart, you know this, felicia,” you held her face in your hands then, tone comforting, “you know i care about you, always have, always will. and thank you, for loving me, and helping us for this mission. but i’m not going anywhere without natasha.”

her claws withdrawn, felicia nodded understandingly. you continued, “keep your head low for a while. manfredi will still be looking for you, so will the police. i’ll try to cover up for you as much as i can, but don’t get into too much trouble. there’s only so much i can do.”

she laughed, getting up as she heard the police sirens approaching. she was sure you had picked up on it much earlier. 

“red really is special, huh?” you nodded at her question, smiling at the thought of going back to natasha later on. 

“bye for now then, spider,” her hair blowing in the wind, felicia almost looked finally at peace. 

“take care, felicia.”

you informed the police officers that you saw the black cat disappear from your sight just seconds before you arrived.

–

natasha was lying alone in bed by the time the other avengers returned. having left early, her room was dark and silent; the only sounds of her chest heaving quickly and her cracked sobs filling the air. 

there was a knock on the door from maria, calling out for her, but natasha ignored her subsequent knocks after telling her to go away from the first one. 

but then an hour later, there were two signature knocks on her door, following by you keying in the passcode to her room that she had only told you, and natasha’s attention was suddenly rapt.

she realised she probably looked a mess, and pathetic, for sobbing her eyes at out at the mere possibility of you leaving. but in her defence, she didn’t know, and you mattered too much to her for her to see you leave right in front of her eyes. 

“don’t switch on the light,” she warned, and your hand retracted from the light switch. you were about to ask her why, when she continued, “just…come here. come here and hold me, please.”

you were more than happy to oblige, sliding between the sheets and having your arms find themselves around her shivering body. she naturally leaned back into you, and natasha wondered if your senses were more elevated than she thought they could be, as your hands came up to wipe the tears she didn’t want you to see.

at the comfort of your touch, she could only ask, “...are you leaving me? for…the black cat?” 

she could feel you smile behind her, and your head resting at the space between her neck and shoulder. instead of replying, you said, “i actually went out to get you some donuts, and a few movies for us to watch, you know. i finally get to welcome you home, properly.”

natasha feels like her heart is going to burst. you chose her.

“but of course…just being with you is enough. just us, staying like this, is enough.”

natasha finally turned, seeing that you were still injured, but you reassured her by slowly massaging the frown and worry lines off her face. 

she pouted. “she’s pretty.”

you brought her to a sitting position, letting her on top as you rubbed your hands over her back. “you’re prettier.”

“has nice blue eyes.”

you kissed her, softly, slowly. “mhmm, i prefer green eyes.”

“i bet you looked good with her.” she could only imagine how powerful the two of you looked; the spider and the black cat swinging through new york city. it was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

you let her see the selection of donuts you had bought; each spelling out a letter in welcome home. “i feel better when i’m with you.”

natasha finally looks back up at you, and she understands. you never had the intention of leaving. you belonged to her, right from the start.

that night, when you had fallen asleep, one arm slung around her protectively, natasha finally has the courage to tell you what she has always felt.

“i love you,” she says, before amassing all her love into the kiss she landed on your lips.

in your slumber, you smiled, and the redness didn’t leave her cheeks, even until the morning. 

[whereserpentswalk]

Every starship always has a few ice people on board. It's just standard safety protocol. The minimum number is three, one ice person for defense, one ice person for repairs, and one ice person for medical.

Ice people are people who are put into suspended animation for the duration of a trip, only to be taken out in emergencies. They're useful because a ship won't have to deal with another passenger just for something that won't useally happen. It also makes it so that the ice person is the least likely to be harmed in emergencies. They used to use robots for these sorts of things but now that the robots have unionized biological life is cheaper for that kind of labor.

It's a pretty nice job. Nine times out of ten it's falling asleep and waking up a few months later. Doing it once or twice can pay off your college debts pretty quickly. Compared to the other jobs you'll get with that kind of skillset it's a pretty good deal. Most medical students are encouraged to take it as their first job to pay off their student loans.

Of course, there is a weirdness to it, not existing for such a long time. Even a few months will make the way things change weird. You'll come back to your home planet and things will be diffrent. A freind will have gotten married. A child that you're used to being a baby will be a toddler. Someone will have moved away. It's not all bad, hype for movies or video games, arguments that need time to calm down, skipping out on a bad time in politics. But still, it always makes you a bit separate from everything else.

Of course, there is always the fear suspended animation won't work as intended, and your mind will be trapped dreaming, or worse, conscious, during the entire affair. Perhaps things will that lurk in hyperspace will begin to speak to you. Or worse you'll just be alone, with nothing but your thoughts, and no way to cry out.

But that's not the worst of it, at least not for most people. For most people it's the much more mundane reality of needing to be an ice person for more than just one or two trips. You'll fall asleep and wake up months later, ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred times. And you'll find yourself only seeing the world through snapshots, really only having your other ice people to relate to. You'll be from a diffrent time as everyone the same age as you. It's better pay then any alternative, but there is a greater cost. Soon enough you'll be walking through your homeworld and it'll be alien to you, decades in the future from what you were raised to be in, you'll be wearing a diffrent eras clothing, speaking in a dead dialect, like a ghost from the past.

There was a young engineer who recently returned from being an ice person. Poor thing, she was sent out on an ambassador ship to an alien system thinking it would be about six months, but it turned out she was gone for decades as a war between that ship's nation and the alien homeworld broke out. When she came back all three of her spouses had died of old age, and her son who was an infant when she left was older than her when she returned, and her grandchildren she had never met were her peers.

[nocturnesmoon]

-Archaic Blood Masterlist-

Thinking about TF141 and vampire reader, it's probably been done before but i can't get it out of my head. All the potential it has both fluff, angst and plot. Because listen listen listen

What if

You are a vampire contracted by the military, except the vampire part is a very well-kept secret. You're old, your life spans all the way back to when they burned witches at the stake. You were an ordinary person back then, careful and with your own beliefs and superstitions like anyone. The rumors and sightings of witches, vampires, and werewolves was things you didn't concern yourself with. At least until you sighted it yourself, and you got pulled in.

Taking slight dnd logic, at least in the sense that the vampire that turned you ended up in control over you. You were trapped there along with quite a few other vampire spawn, all subjected to the same type of abuse and torture over decades. You got used to it, the drive to get away was beaten out of you as you blindly obeyed your master.

You had lost hope of rescue or even just the sweet relief of actual death, until the castle got raided by military. You fought against them by command of the vampire lord, but in a moment of clarity you ripped yourself free from the clawing grip it had on your mind. You pushed against your master, and killed them in their already injured state, granting you the freedom you had wanted for so long.

You still had your immortal strife, but now a free vampire spawn, you finally had a sense of will again, you had hope again. You didn't know why the military decided to spare you, they had butchered your brothers and sisters along with your creator, but someone took interest in you.

And free from one prison you went right into another.

It quickly became clear to you that their goal was to make you something short of a super soldier. Your vampirism gave you a heightened set of abilities, and with a few drawbacks they could utilize you well during missions. Despite your attempts of escape, your newly granted freedom was put on a new leash. You were given a handler, someone to train you into obedience as if you hadn't spent decades being under the control of a single person.

It didn't matter how much you protested; they were insistent that you owed them for "saving" you. So reluctantly you leaned into it, you found that you actually had a lot of fun on these types of missions they would send you on. You did various things; a lot of your time was spent on hunting other monsters like yourself. Both werewolves, vampires, witches, and other mythical creatures since you were much better at sniffing them out.

You proved yourself time and time again, and eventually you became rather trusted. Eventually you would outgrow your handler, unlike them you weren't burdened with aging mortality. So, every few decades, an accident or event would stage your death, and you'd come back under a new name and skillset.

Every single persona you carried got known around the military for different things, though they all had the monster hunting specialty in common. The only people knowing the truth being yourself and a select amount of your higher ups that handled you.

Now you've found yourself settled in your life in the military, it isn't what you expected but you deal with it easily enough. Until the call comes that you're going to be working with a certain Taskforce 141, and the group you meet change everything.

You're paired up with them for an indefinite amount of time, the goal being hunting a cult of monsters that's been stirring up things and risking the public eye figuring out about the existence of monsters. Laswell contacted your handlers for your assistance and thereby sort of became your new temporary handler. In the start she was the only one that knew of your vampirism, and you tried to keep it that way, but it was hard when the others were quite observant of their new addition to the team.

You get along just fine with them, there's a distance between you all at first. A professional distance that doesn't allow you to get to know them all too well. It's a distance you try to keep up, try to maintain but quickly crumbles when you find you enjoy their company a lot more than normal.

Soap always finds a reason to talk to you, either inquiring you about what you're doing or info dumping about his latest find. You allow him to stay, listening to his ramblings with a gentle smile on your face, as you continue typing up your report.

Gaz likes to engage you in different activities, be it card games, video games, training together. It's often paired with Soap and creates quite the chaotic environment, but one that never fails to make you laugh like you've never done before. You even start to suspect that the two of them are teaming up on getting you to open up to them.

Price has his way with complimenting you, he observes your work and your determination with great interest. He notices how much hard work you put into the missions and even outside of missions. He appreciates having someone who's so dedicated, but he also knows you can't possibly be resting enough and finds himself pulling you away from your work to have rest together, however that might be.

Ghost isn't as quick to accept you as the others, he respects you from a work standpoint but other than that there's something about you that doesn't sit right with him. He chalks it up to you just being an unpredictability, an uneven equation to the stability he's used to with the other 141 members. He genuinely tries to get closer with you when he sees how much the rest enjoy your company, but that uneasy feeling is still something he can't shake.

Ghost is probably the first to start suspecting things, maybe even fully figure it out. Everyone probably starts to notice things every now and then, they're smart men, they're hunting a cult of monsters that includes vampires, they know of some of the behaviors.

It also gets harder and harder for you to mask your instincts, the more comfortable you get with them the more you forget to be careful. You start feeling too safe with them, forgetting the fact of who you are. They start noticing how you don't really eat, at least never with them. Every time they invite you to join them, you find some convenient excuse.

Another thing they start to notice is your adverse nature to light. Your room always have the blinds closed and lights off. You gravitate towards the shadows, you feel more welcome in them, and Ghost swears that one time he saw your eyes glow red in the darkness.

Every time you're out in the sunlight, you wear extensive gear or covering clothes. Full balaclava, sunglasses, gloves, almost none of your skin is ever shown to the rays of the sun. The one time Soap asked you about it, you gave the excuse that your skin is just very sensitive to the sun, that you get sunburns easily because of sensitive skin and just prefer the shade.

Your heightened sensitivity is something Price and Ghost notices quick. Your sharp movements, your overly quick thinking, your stamina, and strength don't line up with the humanely possible. Not to mention the way you stare at blood a little too intensely when you come across it.

Whenever Price asks Laswell about you, every bit of information he gets out of her is vague and doesn't always add up. Even when he gets his hands on your file, and goes over it with the team, despite how impressive your record is, there are things on it that doesn't make sense with how long you've supposedly been alive.

The breakpoint happens when Gaz finds your stash of blood packs. He didn't even mean to be nosy in your room, but he was looking for something of his that you had borrowed, and stumbled upon them. His eyes wide as he looks back at you, the things he's been thinking, and the small whispers he's shared with the rest about you, now all confirmed to be true.

You try to talk him down, but you know by the way he looks at you that you're starting to form as a threat in his mind. He tries to get away, maybe to get backup or find something specific to defend himself with, but you manage to tackle him down. Not exactly helping his griping fear. Only then do you manage to talk him down, assure him that you aren't a threat and that you won't hurt anyone.

He leaves it reluctantly, mumbling agreeance, but you're aware that he's not going to keep it secret. It's just about who moves faster now. You like the relationship you've built with the 141, you're even starting to get through to Ghost, and it wasn't something you were keen on losing. So, Laswell calls a meeting, it was time to let them know.

Everyone gathers, confused at the sudden emergency meeting, except for Gaz who is staring you down, his leg bouncing furiously against the ground. You do your best to not look threatening, to prepare yourself for possible worse reactions.

"They're a vampire spawn," Laswell tells them, ”And they've been helping the military control the remaining monsters in the world for a very long time now." she states as if it's most normal thing in the world to have a free vampire spawn on your team you're supposed to trust. Though their response surprise you.

"We know"

At first you think you weren't quick enough, that Gaz got to them before you did. But you quickly find out most of them have been suspicious for months, and eventually came to terms with it. Gaz's outburst just stemmed from shock and impulse thinking. They all have quite a few questions, ranging from trivial to stupid and some just plain curiosity.

You're most surprised to find that they don't want to view you any different than they already have, that they enjoy your company just as much as you've enjoyed theirs. They still want to work with you, they still want to be around you. It makes your unbeating heart flutter, and your nonexistent blood rush in excitement of the future possibilities.

They've accepted you into their own little pack, you don't know it yet, but they've already claimed you as theirs. If they could have it their way, and they will, you won't be working for any other taskforce again in a very long time, and you think that this might just be the most interesting decade yet, in your long, long life.

I really wanna write more about this, vampire tropes always have me frothing at the mouth-

Sorry for the word vomit but i had to get this out my head, i can't be the only thinking about this, the potential-

[zahri-melitor]

I want to go on more about The Boy Wonder #3, because it’s just really on top of aspects of the Tim and Damian problem without taking sides or getting aggressive.

Damian’s failing in it is that he is so ready to misread Tim’s intentions that he doesn’t stop to think that Tim is equally undercover like he is and overlooks what he knows about Tim’s skillset. (Someone here is jamming your signal, Damian? What a mystery who that could be)

Tim’s failing in it is that he doesn’t bother to explain the plan to Damian, doesn’t expect Damian to listen to him and follow his lead, and he doesn’t trust that Damian won’t betray him, so he plans around him.

BOTH of their plans don’t consider the other as active participants, but Tim’s is able to adapt on the fly to take into account Damian’s actions, while Damian with a lot less experience in team environments cannot.

I can tell you feel bad about killing that guy. But do you feel bad because you hurt someone...or because you were punished for it? Do you only feel bad because you got found out?

And yeah, that’s the thing with early Damian.

Tim’s mistrust is completely understandable. Even as he grants Damian grace - “I know you feel guilty about it” - he points out he doesn’t know the reason for the guilt and that also has meaning to Tim, because he doesn’t know if the growth associated with the regret has happened.

Damian's actions that Tim sees do fall into this valley of 'why are you guilty'. Whereas Dick and Bruce both see Damian's growth and attempts to make amends, Damian's prickly enough that Tim largely does NOT see that and instead gets Damian who doesn't trust him, who reads the worst intentions into Tim's actions...and so Tim does the same.

They even out! You can see it on page in places! But 'doing the right thing because someone else wants you to' and 'doing the right thing because YOU want to' are two different steps, and we watch Damian go through both, and early on he is definitely not yet at appreciable self motivation.

And when Damian does demonstrate this growth for Tim in the story:

You stuck with doing what was right, even when it was hard. I appreciate it.

He acknowledges it and takes it into account!

And look part of the misunderstanding here is definitely that Tim doesn't slow down and explain his plans to Damian. He's used to working with Bruce or Dick where he wouldn't need to, he's also had bad responses when he's explained to Damian before, so he treats him as an obstacle or a spoiler in the mix that he plans around and uses as a distraction but doesn't bother to explain his actions to.

(Also Damian is just. so young. in this. He can't tell that Tim's playing along to let people tell him the information he wants)

Just an hour ago, the prince had seen this same brother abuse his gifts for personal gain...hadn't he? And yet here he was, setting that aside to join the prince in doing what was right. A reminder you could indeed start wrong and course-correct. It's never too late to act better.

If he had inspired his brother toward such a change, maybe he could live up to his father's expectations after all.

Ahahahahaha Damian. Baby. Tim was schmoozing Oswald Cobblepot and Lex Luthor and Veronica Cale for a purpose! Tim does not think they are good people to work with! He was trying to get information out of them! He needs to know what they're up to for the family company! Tim is not going to trust Luthor or Cale!!!

And yet baby Damian here is still telling himself a parable that he saw growth in Tim so he can also live up to that growth. He 'inspired' Tim.

Character centred storytelling at its most hilarious. But also quite sweet - because it's just another level of 'the problem between Tim and Damian is they misread each other and exist in the other's blindspots', so the resolution STILL having Damian with that giant blindspot but working it through in his head to put Tim into a slightly better light is actually a creative and interesting way to approach the growth.

Also funny. SO funny.

[tevanavernus]

bucktommy + early in their relationship + the very first time buck gets to say "i can teach you" to tommy

thanks for requesting, hope you like it! :)

Tommy was so cool. That was the thought that kept running through Buck's head, even two months into their official relationship. The man was a pilot, he tinkered with cars, knew Muay Thai, went to trivia nights, liked monster trucks, and—much to Buck's amusement—watched all the trashy, over-the-top romance movies. It didn't matter how many times Buck glanced at him or thought about him—he couldn't stop that giddy feeling from bubbling up inside him.

The thing was, Tommy didn't keep it to himself, didn't brush off his skills or downplay his interests. If anything it seemed like he wanted to share it with Buck. Back when Buck was desperate for Tommy to pay attention to him and their conversation briefly turned to flying lessons, and later to Muay Thai, Buck didn't look into it more than having excuses to see Tommy again.

Yet, Tommy stuck by his words, and a few weeks after their coffee date, Buck found himself sitting in the cockpit of a helicopter, the sun shining and no emergency in sight. The best part wasn't just the thrill of being in the helicopter—it was watching Tommy. If it had been anyone else, Buck would have interjected, asked questions, or shared random facts he'd read online. But with Tommy? His mind was blissfully empty, hanging onto every word as Tommy rattled off information about each button, explaining what it did and when to use it.

The Muay Thai lessons were similar in that respect, even if they were completely unsuccessful in actually teaching Buck anything. But, in Buck's defense, how could anyone concentrate when Tommy was guiding him through stances and moves with those lingering touches to fix his posture—especially when those shorts Tommy wore left very little to the imagination? It was a miracle that Tommy had his own setup at home, because if they'd been in a public gym, Buck might've been facing indecent exposure charges with how distracted he'd gotten.

The point was, Tommy was cool and he was constantly teaching him something new. Which Buck loved. He loved learning from him, loved the way Tommy's eyes would light up when he got to show him the ropes. But every now and then, there was this nagging feeling in the back of Buck's mind—this thought that maybe he didn't bring enough to the table. He wanted to contribute more, to offer something back, something that would make Tommy look at him even half as awe-stricken as Buck felt when he watched Tommy in his element.

But what could he teach him? It's not like Buck could sweep Tommy off his feet with a kiss that unlocked some hidden part of him he didn't know existed. And as far as work went, they both operated in the same field, so it wasn't like Buck had any neat, life-changing trick up his sleeve that Tommy didn't already know.

So Buck might have spiraled a bit. He went down a few rabbit hole researches late at night. At one point, when he felt particularly desperate, he might have typed out 'cool things to teach to impress your boyfriend' into Google. His team was not spared from this spiral either. In fact, they heard all about his thoughts about this important issue whenever they were en route to a call.

"Buck, the guy's with you because he likes you, not because he's looking for a new skillset," Bobby finally chimed in over the headset, putting a stop to yet another rant. "So show him something you like."

That was great advice. Solid advice. Advice that Buck might have... half heard. The part about Tommy liking him for who he was? Yeah, that might have gone over his head. But the bit about showing Tommy something he liked? That could work. He could definitely find something he liked, and it could still be something Tommy didn't know.

The first try was, perhaps, a bit too obvious, but cooking seemed like a fair bet. They hadn't had the chance to enjoy a homemade meal together yet. Most of the time, if their schedules lined up, they'd order takeout or hit a diner for a quick bite. So Buck thought, why not invite Tommy over a little earlier than usual and—just casually—show off his cooking skills in the process? Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could even teach Tommy a thing or two.

His plan came to fruition a week later. It was more than enough time to decide on the meal -with some help from Bobby-, practice… a few times. He was all set. So, with butterflies in his stomach, Buck invited Tommy to the loft one evening and brought him into the kitchen with the excuse that the meal would take a bit longer to prepare.

Tommy took it all in stride. With a glass of wine in hand, he leaned back against the counter by the fridge, slipping easily into conversation about their day. He even complimented how nice the food smelled. Everything was going according to plan.

Until Tommy glanced down at what Buck was doing and gave a small hum.

"You know," Tommy said casually, "if you peel ginger with the edge of a spoon instead of a knife, you'll save more of the flesh."

"Hm? oh, yeah," Buck mumbled absentmindedly before the words fully sank in. He froze mid-peel, eyes widening. "Wait, you know how to cook?"

"Evan," Tommy chuckled, taking another sip. "I might be no Bobby in the kitchen, but I know my way around."

"Oh," Buck grinned, though inwardly he groaned. "That's great!"

Dammit.

The next idea popped into Buck's head was in a middle of a call at a small restaurant-slash-bar. They were there to put out a fire that had broken out in the back when the bar area caught Buck's eye. The shelves lined with bottles and the cocktail shakers sparked a memory. While Tommy often opted for craft beers, who could really say no to a well-made cocktail, right? Buck's mixology days might be long behind him, but he still remembered the basics.

So, Buck found a sleek rooftop bar that hosted cocktail workshops. After a quick chat with the manager—and maybe slipping a few extra bills to ensure they'd get some privacy—he set up their next date.

The date itself was really fun, though Buck found it difficult not to ogle Tommy in his nice button-up shirt, paired with a thin jacket that outlined his biceps all too well. Still, Buck managed to tear his eyes away long enough to actually make the Pisco Sour. He showed off the shaker technique he'd learned back in the day, enjoying the attention Tommy was giving him as he rattled off the steps.

Once Buck finished, he handed the shaker over to Tommy who then measured out the ingredients and glanced at him.

"So like this?" Tommy asked innocently.

Then, to Buck's dismay, he proceeded to replicate the exact shaking technique Buck had just demonstrated. The liquid poured smoothly into the glass, not a drop wasted. Buck watched, feeling a familiar sense of defeat settle in.

"Let me guess—you're also secretly a mixologist?" Buck groaned, half-joking but already knowing the answer wouldn't go his way.

Tommy smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Nope. But a buddy of mine owns a bar, and he taught me a few things on quieter nights." He shrugged, his smirk widening. "Also, I paid attention to what you did."

Buck couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head. "Of course you did."

And just like that, Buck was back to square one. Even worse, he was running out of ideas—fast. He could probably count on one hand the things he could potentially teach Tommy, and two fingers were already down. This was supposed to be easy, right? Just find something he was good at and teach it. But somehow, with Tommy? Impossible. How was he supposed to impress someone who always seemed one step ahead of him?

The next time an idea popped into Buck's head, he hesitated to make it a full-on date. Not because it was particularly difficult or out of their comfort zone, but because Tommy already tinkered with cars, and there was a good chance he knew a thing or two about motorcycles too. As much as Buck would love to rent a couple of bikes and hit the road with nothing but wind and open air, he had a goal in his mind.

"Do you like bikes?" Buck asked casually, after the waitress dropped off their coffees.

They didn't have much time, just enough for a quick coffee at a spot halfway between their stations before their afternoon shifts kicked off.

Tommy paused mid-bite of his cupcake, raising an amused eyebrow. "In what capacity?"

Buck shrugged, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, but his eyes gave him away, fixed on Tommy's face for any sign of interest. "I don't know… riding them?"

Tommy tilted his head, licking a bit of frosting off his finger, his expression thoughtful. "I guess it's alright. I've been on a few before, but I prefer being in the sky."

Buck let out a quiet, defeated hum, taking a sip of his coffee. "Fair."

Tommy gave him a curious glance. "Why? You want to go for a spin or something?"

Buck shrugged again, trying to play it off. "Maybe someday, just a passing thought."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but didn't press further.

The time it actually happened, Buck didn't plan it. It wasn't even on his mind. They had overlapping 48 hours off, a rarity, Buck was quickly learning as their relationship grew. So they tried to make the most of it, and after Buck casually mentioned how nice it would be to hit the beach, it wasn't long before they had packed up a bag with towels and snacks and hit the road.

Buck was right, the water was unreal.

They found a spot not too far from the water, laid out their towels, and settled in for a lazy day. It wasn't until they were in the water for the second time that Buck noticed a small shack by the shore offering surfboard rentals.

He pointed it out to Tommy who looked at it for a moment. "I'll grab a beer instead. But go on, give me a show, baby."

Buck would have frowned, perhaps even asked questions about Tommy opting out if his mind didn't short-circuit at the nickname.

"Right, yeah. A show. Sure," Buck mumbled, still dazed, but already heading toward the rental shack. If Tommy wanted a show, Buck would give him one.

And the show was given.

It wasn't until Buck was back on shore, collapsing onto the towel with a cold beer in hand, that he remembered the question he'd been meaning to ask.

"So, how come you didn't surf?" Buck asked casually, glancing over at Tommy.

"Never really had the chance, I suppose," Tommy replied, sitting beside him, propped up on his elbows, sunglasses shielding his eyes as he gazed out over the water. "My folks weren't the beach type."

"Yeah, I get that. Mine aren't either," Buck said as he propped himself on his elbows, mimicking Tommy. "I only learned when I hit the road after leaving home. Met a girl who gave me some very... personal lessons."

Tommy chuckled, lifting his sunglasses onto his head to meet Buck's gaze. "Yeah? Must've been nice."

"I can teach you," a smug grin spread across his face as the idea formed. And if that grin turned a little more teasing, well, he couldn't help it.

"Yeah?" Tommy raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going.

"My fees are very competitive," Buck added with a shit-eating smirk, holding back a laugh when Tommy gave him a playful shove.

"Yeah, I walked right into that one, didn't I?" Tommy chuckled, rolling his eyes, though his smile didn't fade.

"Mhm," Buck hummed, standing up and turning to offer Tommy his hand. "Let's go."

"Wait, now?" Tommy asked, his expression turning skeptical as he hesitated, glancing toward the water.

"No time like the present," Buck grinned. "Besides, the waves are perfect right now."

With a dramatic sigh, Tommy took Buck's hand and let himself be pulled up from his seat. "Alright, alright, But just so you know, if I end up embarrassing myself, you're the one getting dunked in the water."

Buck laughed, already imagining the inevitable splash. "Deal."

[charlieisannoying]

A perfect case for my certain skillset

Part 1 | Next Chapter >

Platonic CF 99 X Jedi!GNReader Summary: Clone Force 99 is getting a Jedi, as if that could ever work out for the band of misfits. The worst thing? They're not even getting a General. First meetings will always go a little sideways, but the Force will right things in the end (Or so Hunter is told.) Word Count: 2,215

Hunter was tired.

He could feel a headache slowly blossoming under his skull, burrowing itself deeper and deeper, setting alight every nerve–

This was not the right moment for this. He had a mission to do.

It was simple, really.

They haven't been on the field that long anyways and they were a special case anyways. Their assignments, although they wrecked absolute havoc on the world around them were successes. They were still tasting the small bits of freedom between each missions, still overwhelmed with the fact that this was their life – the four of them against the world. While their... fondness over the regs was tested each and every time they came in contact with them, Commander Cody was a special case.

Even Crosshair was silent around that man, his snark nowhere to be found.

So when Commander Cody had commed him, letting him know that his pack, his own Clone Force 99, was supposed to get a handler... Well, Hunter was glad he wasn't alone when he received the news. He did not want to be the one to break the news to his brothers.

Still.

Getting a Jedi General was something even he was supposed to get used to.

It's not that he didn't want a superior officer or that he didn't like Jedi (although, truth to be told his experiences with other Jedi that Master Ti were rather... closer to 0 than any other number), but...

... he wanted to keep his brothers safe, close to himself and only himself. He heard through the ever evolving vod grape-vine that the Jedi were kind and understanding and they were all normal beings, not gods. His mind told him he was exaggerating, that it was in his very nature to protect his brothers...

But would his Jedi not only understand, but also listen to Tech's need to always fix something and explain and research? Will they leave Crosshair be and just exist in the presence of his brothers after a particular rough mission? Will they see how smart Wrecker is or will they just see his bulk and write him off.

Well. Clones were nothing if not adaptable.

'You don't have to be nervous about it.'

Cody's eyes were kind when he said it. They also seemed sad, but that couldn't possibly be true. Commanders knew how and when to say things. Commanders gave orders that no other clone could. Commanders swallowed their grief.

'I am not in the position to reveal anything but...' the Commander's nose flared and he bit on the inside of his cheek, as if searching for the right words. '...this assignment of the Jedi to your batch is more for the well being of themselves than a punishment to you boys.'

As if.

Look, Hunter could agree that their plans were wild, reckless and often enough sputtered into nothingness as soon as a mission started. But they accomplished their missions. They always were successful.

But siccing a Jedi on them?

This would never solve their... creative solutions for their already dangerous missions.

'When should we expect to report under our Jedi then, sir?' Tech's voice was crisp and perfectly measured, skilfully hiding how he felt in that moment from everybody. Well, everybody except Hunter. He could hear Tech's heartbeat skip in a pretty concerning way every so often and could start smelling his anxieties over the matter.

At that question, Cody allowed himself once grimace.

'That's your first job. Your Jedi Commander has... left our ship without telling us where they were going and we were called to aid the 501st.' What? Hunter's impending headache must have messed up his hearing, because why would a Jedi just... leave? Cody continued on, bringing Hunter back to the briefing. 'Their comm was last online in one of the lower levels of the city. It would be wise to check first some of the bars without attracting any unwanted attention.'

Lower levels? Bars? It seemed that all of his brothers were having the same reaction because they all had the what in Prime's tits is doing their Jedi in a bar face.

Something must have taken the Commanders attention away from them and their bewildered faces, because he didn't comment on their lack of response. Before he closed, he did wish them good luck, and that must have meant something, right?

By the sound of Tech's tapping on his data pad, Hunter was sure that every tidbit of information over their Jedi would be soon in their hands. He could always count on his brother's

'Wait, what did he mean by Jedi Commander?'

—

His headache was definetly getting worse.

This was the fifth? Or was it the sixth bar they searched? The vibrations of the bass and drums sent painful spikes from his skull down to his finger tips. This was promising some very painful next few days. And if they wouldn't find thei Jedi, his headache will become even worse and then Crosshair will see it, because of course the little shit was just as observant as his eyesight was perfect and–

'I just say we leave this damn Jedi find us instead. We're soldiers, not babysitters.'

Ah, kark it.

This was absolutely perfect. Now he also got Crosshairs snark to add of the things that were annoying him in that moment.

The lights were blinding him.

The music was getting louder and louder and he couldn't think, his brother's arm on his shoulder was like sand paper on his skin, although he had both his blacks and his armour on and why was the music so karking loud–

'You okay there buddy?'

If Hunter was at his peak he would notice that you were holding a fuzzy, colorful drink in your hands, the type that would come with small umbrellas and would wreck anyone in two gulps. Except he couldn't smell the alcohol. At all.

Your clothes seemingly resembled Jedi robes, the teal outer robes mixing with a tan tunic and brown pants. Small dots littered your sleeves, as if they were painstakingly embroidered, slowly combating the simpleness of normal Jedi apparel. Your hair was stuck to your forehead as if you'd been jumping the whole night and your eyes–

Maker, your eyes.

He could say that they were pretty because they were surrounded by blue glitter, and lined with black as if you were trying to capture everyone around you. You didn't break contact with him, as if trying to scan and read and see right through him, a small glint in your eyes indicating nothing but trouble.

But no.

Your eyes were sad. As if you knew something he didn't, as if you've lost and lost and lost, and you couldn't quite believe that you won't lose again. Hunter just wanted to bundle you up and take you far away from the war that just takes from beings.

Where were these thoughts coming from?

There was something else.

All he could focus was that the sounds were...gone. All those terrible sounds that were scratching the inside of his brain did not make him want to keel over and cover his ears.

He could still hear his brother's heartbeats, Tech's tapping, Crosshair grinding his teeth over another toothpick (where was he getting them??) and Wreckers fiddling with bits of an explosive.

Even those accursed lights seemed dimmed.

'You with me, Sarge?' Your brows were furrowed, as if you were trying to read him. And in the end, who even were you, why would you care–

Oh.

You were his Jedi. Were you the reason this place was more bearable now? Could the force even do that?

Wrecker snorted. Wait, why was Wrecker laughing?

That weird glint returned to your face, a small smile pulling over your lips. 'It's a Force Bubble. Helps me with my own migraines, and I though it would help you too.' You continued, the frown making an appearance once again. 'You were projecting your pain quite...hm...strongly across the lower levels. And anyways, what is Clone Force 99 doing here? We were supposed to meet tomorrow.'

Did he say that out loud?

That admittedly subdued headache was going to be the end of him.

'Technically, it is tomorrow.' Tech's voice was a bit harsh, not like his usual calm and calculated cadence. Were his brothers also starting to feel the simmering anger rising? They were out there, trying to find them, and... what? Their Jedi thought that giving Hunter a small respite would fix everything?

Before his thoughts could spiral even further, you had the decency to look... not ashamed, but guilty.

'Ah, my apologies then. I just wanted to...' You mulled over your words, trying to find the perfect one. You seemed to do that a lot, as if being able to choose your own words was something new, something not yet experienced. '...well, just be a Jedi for one more night and not a Commander.' You're eyes crinkled slightly as you smiled, as if laughing at a joke.

Hunter wasn't aware Jedi's sense of humour was so subtle. In fact, he heard quite the opposite from various other Commanders. Returning his attention back to you, you seemed to be already thinking about something else. Your face was already angled towards the back of the bar, where a small raised platform was created. A guitar was nestled against a box pretending to be a stool. A microphone completed the set, as if beaconing courageous drunks to sing something.

It seemed not only Hunter noticed your divided attention.

'Something else you've got to do, Jedi?' Kark Crosshair and his big mouth. Hunter was not in the mood to fight a decommission report to save his dear, dear brother. His headache was threatening to become a migraine once again.

This seemed to catch your attention once again. Shoulders pulled back, the blue robes did not seem to swallow you anymore. A small quirk of your eyebrow betrayed your amusement.

'You've crashed my set, actually. You guys are not exactly low profile.' Set? Did you sing? Is that your drink was all for show? All sadness was gone for a moment from your eyes, a fierce glint taking its place. 'I'm sorry you're tired and cranky... Crosshair, is it? So why don't you get a nice little drink from the bar and enjoy the show, yes?' Paired with a sweet little smile, you took your leave towards the makeshift stage, blue robes trailing like a blaze behind you.

This did not feel like getting a handler anymore.

This was going to get much, much worse.

—

Despite his worse fears, no decommission request landed in Hunter's pile of folders or in his inbox. After the incident at the bar, Crosshair finally fell silent, which meant that Hunter was free to fall into blissful sleep in their barracks. They did not stay to see you perform, much to Wrecker's dismay, but he was sure Tech already sliced through the bars shoddy footage, only to satisfy his curiosity, if nothing else.

You took the closed quarters of the Marauder in stride, your face betraying nothing. Your heartbeat though...? Well, that told Hunter everything he needed.

It seemed that not only Clone Force 99 was anxious about this change.

'Anything I should steer clear off?' You're eyes were still darting around, as if you were taking it all in. Your question though, it warmed Hunter somehow. He knew viewed clones as people, but other nat-borns had other ideas, that were not nicely viewed in the GAR.

'Our lives?'

Even with his back turned around the momentarily least favourite brother, he could feel Crosshairs sneer.

Before even taking a breath to reprimand Crosshair again in less that 24 hours, Wreckers boisterous voice bounced against the ship's walls.

'HA, as if you could beat a Jedi, Cross.' Wrecker's huge form seemed to eclipse you for just a moment, before draping an arm around your shoulders. You seemed to dip a bit, before finding your footing and righting yourself again, without shrugging Wrecker off. This seemed to encourage Wrecker, as he quickly continued, a sharp grin forming on his face.

'Technically, don't touch anything of Crosshair's. Don't mess up my workspace.' Tech's eyes were glued to his data pad, but his finger was pointing to various parts of the ship.

Thank you, Tech and your perfect interruptions.

You're impassive face was slowly breaking apart, your cheeks twitching slightly. Even your heartbeat seemed to slow down, and you even seemed to lean more and more into Wrecker, as if you were leeching his body heat. You risked a glance towards Hunter, but quickly looked away when you noticed him analysing you.

He wondered if you were going to burst from trying to keep in your laugh.

'You can always take Lula!' Reaching towards his bunk, Wrecker dragged you along a bit, without realising that you were still somewhat trapped underneath his arm. He offered you the tooka doll, and Hunter really hoped this was not the moment Wrecker will get heartbroken from your response.

A genuine smile lighted up your face instead.

'Thank you.'

If it weren't for the proximity alarm going off in the cockpit, Hunter was sure of there was more to be said.

For now, they all had one job.

Complete the mission.

Next Chapter >

[narutocharacterpolls]

Sasuke is an amazing character whose biggest "crime" is being better written for a seinen and not the shonen he was forced into.

It's ultimately Kishi's fault for toying with themes like genocide, state-sponsored ethnic discrimination, and intergenerational trauma without the proper skillset/genre to do those themes (and subsequently characters like Sasuke whose entire being is built on those traumas) any satisfying justice.

In a manga created to highlight the virtues of forgiveness and friendship, how is a character like Sasuke (whose entire family and ethnic group was systemically oppressed for generations and then slaughtered by the state) supposed to exist in a way that satisfies the marginalized readers who identify with the incredibly real themes of his story? Turn the other cheek and forgive those who committed genocide and faced no punishment? Be content with systemic conformity when that system has shown nothing but deadly flaws?

Sasuke is ultimately a survivor and even his creator recognizes how very real his responses are to the enormity of injustice he and his family have faced. It's just a shame that very real emotion and those very real injustices are inadequately told in the restrictive setting of a shonen.

Idk, at this point if you know, you know lol. If you don't, then just say you don't understand his character or don't want to bother reading the manga with a crticial lens and move on. Not sure what else to tell some of you at this point. It's been years... begging some of you to pick up the actual manga (not a fanfic or the anime) and read the material with more mature eyes.

I love you, anon. I hope you have the best of days and that kindness comes your way with ease. Absolutely perfectly stated, I don’t really want to add anything to this. You’ve said what the lot of us Sasuke lovers were thinking, I thank you so genuinely for putting the time into writing this.

[mayapapaya33]

Can we talk about how we have both old man Bruce Wayne and lego batman in Critical Role in the form of Lord Eshteross and The Owlbear. I am a huge fan of the theory that Eshteross was the first Owlbear in his youth, the gritty, intense, tragically heroic one. That there have been several since and the Owlbear we see in the Darrington brigade is like the fourth or fifth and is the goofy try hard lego batman version in Exandria. I love it so much.

Yes, The Darrington Brigade is 17 years before C3 but that math checks out, Eshteross could have been the Owlbear in his younger years, then eventually passed the mantel on. The Owlbear we know and love could have picked up the mantel either by copying rumors he heard in the criminal underbelly of the world, or by coming to the conclusion that owlbears are scary independently, which is hilarious.

C3 E13 (25:17)

FCG: And Lord Eshteross? 

E: "Yes?"

FCG: "Some of us have the ability to communicate either telepathically or at a distance with creepy whispers. I don't really know your skillset other than you're a badass and kind of rich. Do you have any way of signaling us silently or anything, or any magic at your disposal?"

E: "I am not a practitioner of the arcane arts, but I'm a, while somewhat aged, capable master of the martial." He grabs this heavy cane off to the side, and you remember, a number of you, taking some heavy wallops from it in the past, and smacks it on the ground a bit. It gives this reverbing ring as it impacts, just (stick reverbing). 

Ash: "Mysterious, badass, rich, it's like Owlbear Man". (laughter) "I mean, if you think about it, it's basically Owlbear Man". 

FCG: "I've heard those stories."

Ash: "Yeah, they're my favorites growing up."

E: "Owlbear Man does not exist. He's a folktale. A way to scare children in the outskirts of rural villages."

 FCG: "And criminals." 

Ash: "And criminals."

E: "Such a thing does not exist."

Laudna: "But I thought he was a criminal himself, right? Which makes him cool. He's like a vigilante."

 Ash: "It's on both sides, I mean, like, you know, growing up, clearly."

I mean come on, he's totally the og Owlbear!

Honorable mention to Percy who is definitely also giving old man Bruce Wayne vibes for sure. He just doesn't really fit into the Owlbear side of the equation; it's not his style. There is wonderful fanfiction potential in it though. Young Percy running into Eshteross instead of Orthax and learning how to fight crime to avenge his dead family oh my god this is amazing someone please write it hahahaha.

[applepixls]

can we talk about grians character development this season?

this time last year if he built a tree he would've asked for scar's help or asked him to consult on how to improve it. this time last year he wouldn't have even made farms in his base, he would've gone to the shopping district and if he needed to do redstone he would've asked for someones help/advice.

this season hes researching weird tree terms like pollarding and coppicing and da vincis rules about how trees should exist in proportion from trunk to branches. he's implementing scar's technique of using dirt scaffolding to plan out the shapes of organic builds and he's looking at his finished result and realizing it would look better and more realistic with 10% of the leaves gone. AND he's thinking about how it looks good from EVERY DIRECTION (normally he only cares about one side of builds, hence them all being unfinished and backless) and the perfect little bonus is that he's proud of it. it is so easy to look at your work and compare it to others' and think yours isn't good enough or just dislike your work from looking at it for too long. we're all conditioned to need approval from other people but to allow ourselves to take pride in our work is so!!!!! cracked skillset. theres a bit less evidence with the redstone but he still is finding tutorials for farms and adapting them to his needs and changing tick speeds so it works on laggy servers like hermitcraft and even if the sugarcane isn't a particularly original design it also isn't made following a tutorial meaning he figured it out all on his own!

while im sad our favourite codependent menace is getting a little less codependent (/hj, i mean this in a very silly way) i am so impressed by the amount of little changes its taken to make it to this sort of big noticeable change

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I have been quietly taking singing lessons on and off for about a year and not because I’m interested in being a singer. It’s because I’m growing my spiritual skillset to be able to speak things into existence. I highly recommend singing lessons as another way to touch into the meta-magical that lives within the depths of your throat chakra. Keep it quiet and private as much as possible. At the onset of decreeing the magical and otherworldly, whether a new exercise practice or new way of eating, the less people who know, the better and more sustainable. —India Ame’ye

Your asé, the union of your throat and sacral chakras, is your purest power, command, or authority to reconfigure the conditions of life around you and set your body up for success. Wikipedia's definition of "asé," a Yoruba philosophy is "the power to make things happen and produce change." Your asé is the power to consciously use your life force, especially when it's uncomfortable or deeply vulnerable, for transformation.

[whispersinthedawn]

Fluttering fireflies (Pt 1)

“You only have one tail,” Triton said in disappointment.

As the first words that his immortal brother could have said to him, it could have been a lot worse. In fact, if Percy considered all the ways it could have gone, Triton could have begun the conversation by picking out all the features that made him young, weak, an upstart god, and undeserving of existing let alone setting tail in the palace.

And so, Percy cheerfully pointed out, “Look on the bright side. At least I have two eyes.”

“Why does that matter?” the god asked blankly.

Well, it mattered because two eyes weren’t always a guarantee when one happened to be born the son of Poseidon and a mortal turned nature spirit. Then again, when the alternative was being a cyclops, Percy would have preferred being the ordinary merman he was pretending to be rather than one of Triton’s beloved two-tailed merpeople.

“He’s perfect the way he is,” Poseidon interrupted before Percy could open his mouth and let a quip fly.

“Of course,” Rhodes agreed. “I didn’t know you and mother were planning to have other kids though.”

Considering the number of children Poseidon had, Percy rather doubted any amount of planning had been involved, ever, but he held his tongue.

He wasn’t a son of Poseidon and Amphitrite, after all.

“Ah well,” Poseidon hedged.

“Not again,” Kymopoleia burst out, slamming her hands on the table. “Once again, you’ve gathered us here to celebrate your virility under the guise of celebrating a new addition to the family!”

Before Poseidon could do more than puff up in offense, Kymopoleia sneered, “Has it ever struck you that you keep having more kids but none of the old ones ever come to visit? Maybe if you put a halt on having more kids and focused on taking care of the ones you already have, you wouldn’t have to keep creating more to hide the fact that everyone but a newborn hates you?”

“Depends on the newborn,” Benthesikyme input judiciously. “Some of them are born with a startling degree of perspicacity.”

“So you have problems with him too?” Percy asked curiously.

That brought his arguing half-siblings to a stop.

“Too?” Kymopoleia inquired after a cautious pause.

Percy nodded.

“What did he do, promise you the world only to end up locking you up on an island?” Rhodes threw a jibe at Poseidon.

“Call you his prince and then treat you like a glorified errand boy?” Triton shot archly.

“Marry you off to a mortal and forget you exist?” Benthesikyme smiled.

“Or was it even worse?” Kymopoleia grinned with sharp teeth. “Create a being in his image only to retroactively realise that he’s really not all that and the kid’s just too destructive to have around his precious?”

“What are you anyway?” Rhodes followed up curiously. “A shark hybrid that has lungs instead of gills, a seaweed creature that requires meat to survive, a whale that can’t digest water? What problems has your parentage saddled you with?”

Percy tapped a finger on his chin, taken aback by the plethora of complaints. “Um,”

“He’s a god!” Poseidon input forcefully before Percy could come up with a palatable answer. “The newest one in the world, in fact.”

So new he was only eighteen years old. Practically infantile, really.

“What are you a god of?” Triton inquired, leaning back in his chair with an assessing gaze.

“Don’t know,” Percy answered uncomfortably. “I just make storms.”

And have disturbing dreams, create volcanic eruptions, and accidentally destroy bridges. Percy was destruction in a nutshell, really.

But even offering a watered-down version of his skillset or lack thereof didn’t stave off the outburst.

“So not only is there a new god in town, it’s also my replacement!” Kymopoleia shouted.

“I’m not a replacement!” Percy burst out, shaking his hands wildly. “I’m not even god of all storms or anything! Just hurricanes. On land.”

Kymopoleia stared at him incredulously. “Wow. You’re not even a subordinate. Just born, and you’re already halfway to dead.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Poseidon commanded. “He’s a god, he’s your brother, and you’re going to include him while carrying out your duties.”

“So … you mean not only do I have a snot-nosed little brother, I have to babysit the kid now?” Rhodes concluded.

“Don’t take it personally,” Percy commiserated. “First I heard of this was when he came to my birthday, for the first time ever, and gave me a sand dollar and a tour around the palace with my family. Funnily, he never mentioned just who was going to be part of this family trip.”

Benthesikyme sighed. “He’s insensitive that way.”

“At least you’re all getting along, even if it’s about how much you resent me,” Poseidon said, sounding unsure whether he ought to be worried about that.

Percy dared to pat his father on the elbow. “Get used to it,” he advised. “That’s how all well-adjusted siblings bond.”

***

An AU where Percy is born the youngest god. Will be ultimately Perpollo but Apollo hasn't entered the scene yet.

Read on Ao3

Next

[tgrailwar-zero]

It's been a while since you had to do this, but since you're in a new area...

(Should you choose to go to the Gardens, this decision will be cancelled out and replaced with another poll, as that can only be attended with one specific Servant.)

Party Splitting, Reminder:

When put into a combat scenario, only three Servants can participate at a time, with the recent being forced to exist in their Spirit Forms. Each Servant has different skills, abilities, and parameters! Your 'Main Party' Servants will also consistently stick with you, unlike your 'reserve' Servants that can split off for various reasons. You can see your Servant's stats in their Matrices on the pinned post!

To set up your party, the Top 3 choices will be made your 'main', while the others will be on 'reserve'. There will be opportunities given to change your lineup, typically during periods of downtime. There may also be scenarios where you're narratively forced to change your lineup.

Additionally, outside of combat scenarios, your 'reserve' Servants can perform a number of tasks upon request when you open up the map to explore, such as information gathering and item shopping- and will share their findings when you all reconvene. While this does spend money, you may find items that aren't commonly found in shops- or it might save you the time of shopping on your own. Due to their dispositions, they'll each have different results- even if asked to do similar tasks.

Servant details under the cut.

KUKULKAN: Mixed-ranged combatant, can engage from a distance with high mana output, or convert her mana to empower her close-ranged combat. High mana, and fair endurance.

When sent to perform tasks like shopping, there's a fair chance that her curiosity will get the better of her, for better or worse. When asked to gather information, her approach is 'friendly'.

CONSTANTINE XI: Close-ranged, defensive combatant. Can provide supportive buffs to allies, and engage in intensive swordplay. Low mana, but very high endurance.

When sent to perform tasks like shopping, he'll spend conservatively and bring back reasonably useful items. When asked to gather information, his approach is 'diplomatic'.

SALIERI: Long-ranged combatant, casting spells and summoning familiars. Fair endurance and mana, and mana passively regenerates over time.

When asked to perform tasks on his own, he'll tend to only gather what he believes is essential if asked to shop. When asked to gather information, his approach is 'menacing'.

NERO CLAUDIUS: Long-ranged combatant, able to cast supportive spells and employ unique magecraft to even the battlefield. Low endurance, but fair mana.

When sent to perform tasks on her own, there's a fair chance that she'll spend extravagantly if asked to shop, but find something impressive in turn. When asked to gather information, her approach is 'privileged'. As a Caster, if outside of the Main Party, she can use her talents to create items.

MUSASHI: Short-ranged combatant, able to engage in a variety of situations with adaptable swordplay. Very low mana, but good endurance.

When sent to perform tasks like shopping, there's a fair chance that she'll barter/trade 'non-essential' items, and find items out of luck. When asked to gather information, her approach is 'daring'.

GIUSEPPE: Mixed-Ranged Combatant, can provide support with illusions and pinpoint enemy weaknesses. Low physical stats, but fair mana.

When sent to perform tasks like shopping, he'll most likely be able to receive items at a reduced price, or even for free. When asked to gather information, his approach is 'charming'. With his unique skillset, if outside the Main Party, he can use his talents to copy items.

[dgcatanisiri]

Honestly, when it comes to command tests in Star Trek, I think honestly that the one that Deanna takes in "Thine Own Self" is actually a MUCH BETTER test than the Kobayashi Maru.

One of the key issues of the Kobayashi Maru test is that the program is designed to cheat. Whatever you do, however you respond, it is meant to come up with a perfect counter to it. Theoretically, it could spawn more ships than even exist in a hostile power's fleet to take on your one vessel.

Yes, Kirk was right to point out that it's not a fair test of one's abilities, but it's because it isn't teaching prospective captains how to lose, but how to lose TO A COMPUTER. And while that's not an impossible thing to face in Starfleet, it's also not testing these prospects for something that they will absolutely face.

Meanwhile, Deanna's test was one that, first, asked her to look beyond her expectations and training - as a counselor, the scenario was outside of her traditional skillset, being an engineering crisis. But hey, she's a listener, she could handle that part. Then the solution, the only one that could solve things, was for her to bear the responsibility of sending a member of her crew, a person she considered a friend, to their certain death, in order to save the rest of them.

It's not a no-win scenario. It's a no good win scenario. And I think that's a greater test, because it is saying that there is a situation that you can't solve on your own, and will take a life to do the greater good of saving many more.

It's the Spock scenario from the climax of Wrath of Khan, but instead of playing Spock, she has to play Kirk. And I genuinely think that calls for more from a prospective commander, because it's not just saying 'this person has to die to save the rest of us.' It's 'I have to knowingly send this person to their death to save the rest of us.' It's a choice that, once having been made, will haunt a person, because that question of 'what if there was another way' will be there.

And, I think, for a person granted the responsibility and care of a starship and crew, I think that's a question that they SHOULD have to carry. Every decision a captain of a starship - in particular a starship like the Enterprise-D, with a crew of over a thousand people - will impact those lives. It's something that shouldn't be accepted casually, but given the weight it deserves.

Like, sure, Deanna's test was on the holodeck with hologram replicas of the crew in question, but when I think of this as a training program for cadets, I see it as a monitored wilderness excursion of training cruise of some kind, where as far as the cadets know, they are in danger. And that, I feel, teaches the lesson that the Kobayashi Maru WANTS to teach better than it does, because it's one thing to have a scenario where the computer will always beat you. What do you learn from that but that a system designed to outthink you can do just that? Being forced to live out the adage of 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one'? That's a situation that should leave you asking questions at night of 'did I make the right call? Was there another way?'

Because that's one of the centerpieces of command - the decisions you make are, ultimately, yours to own. Can you bear the weight of those questions? Can you bear the consequences of those choices? And, on top of that, if the weight of those questions and consequences are too much, you should find out before you are genuinely granted that responsibility.

The Kobabyashi Maru as portrayed allows room for "well, I couldn't win that anyway, so I didn't need to learn anything from it anyway." Deanna's command test forces the test-taker to look the question of 'did I do the right thing and can I live with having done this?'

[pillowspace]

Do you have any advice for drawing stuff? I made art for the longest time, and now I’m trynna get back into it. My art looks terrible, so do you have any pointers I should start doing?

(God I loose motivation so fast, you don’t even know)

There's certain things I do when I want to get better at drawing something

1. Watch speedpaints or art live streams, especially if it relates to what you want to draw. Art streams are more helpful, but speedpaints are easier to access if there are no streams of what you want currently live. Watch it and absorb what they're doing. How they make certain shapes, where they start with what, and what you can do to mirror these things in your own art. If something seems too far out of your skillset to replicate, then discard it. Focus on what looks doable. Focus on what's 1 step ahead rather than 50. You can still play with these kinds of ambitions from time to time though, just understand that the goal probably isn't to perfect it but to rather learn a tiny bit. One of my favourite Moon drawings was made after watching Bamsara draw him for a few hours, actually

2. If an artist has an art style you really like, figure out why you like it. Don't post it, but trace over an artwork of theirs to get a feel for what makes their art so satisfactory. Then without tracing, try to redraw those details next to the drawing. It can look wonky. It usually looks very wonky. But it can help you figure out how a person might draw hair, features, anatomy, etc. Your goal isn't to completely recreate another person's style, but to learn shapes you could never understand at just a glance.

3. I pay no mind to the quality of the first few doodles of something I'm not used to drawing. Those doodles are for unconsciously memorizing the motion of the shapes, they're allowed to be wonky. My first Moon drawing was the goofiest thing to ever exist