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moonydustx · 11 months ago

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A not so funny story

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Summary: With Uta controlling everyone and the marine attacking, you needed to contain an unconscious Law who was looking to join the fight. Now, you need to deal with the consequences of him finding out about this.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: blood, Law hurts Reader (not on purpose), they both love each other, but they are idiots who don't know how to talk. Law doesn't know how to express his feelings in this one. Angst, kinda fluff/happy ending.

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: I just saw the movie Red and the idea came to my mind. I need to shake off the rust and get back to writing, I thought it would be a good solution. Despite being linked to the film OP Red, there may be some things that differ from the canon.

For those who haven't seen the film, a spoiler-free context: in the film, we see a singer called Uta, who Bepo is a fan of and, together with Law, go to the show. Problems happen, she puts everyone to sleep and with her power, she manipulates these sleeping people to fight with other people who want to stop her.

italics apply to flashbacks and thoughts

Part 2 | Part 3 (NSFW)

The cold stone beneath you contrasted with your hot, sweaty body. You could feel the wounds burning on your body and if you reached out your hand, you could find the cause of them, your captain.

In the distance, you could hear someone calling your name and it didn't take long for Penguin to appear in your field of vision.

"Are you okay?"

"He gave me a hard time, but I'm fine. And you?" You grumbled, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Apparently everyone had gone back to sleep.

"We're tired but fine. You're bleeding, do you need any help?"

"Everything is fine." You stood, with his help. "We need to get them out of here, I doubt the marines will miss the chance to catch so many pirates gathered in one place. At the very least, this will end in a fight."

You chose to help carry Bepo back to Polar Tang. Even though he was big, sharing the weight would be much easier than carrying Law alone. As soon as you entered the submarine, you disappeared from sight, leaving all of Uta's fight behind.

"Do you guys need help? I can see some pretty bad injuries from here." Ikkaku approached, already stopping the blood on your forehead. "Are they both okay?"

"We should take them to the infirmary and keep them under observation." you warned, seeing two other crew members carry them out of sight. "Can we get away from the fight?"

"Yeah, off their radar." someone answered you in the background.

"Perfect, keep us at this depth, keep an eye on the radios, any sign of change, if Law hasn't woken up, you look for me." You leaned against one of the tables, trying to ignore some of the pain in your body.

It was supposed to be just a quick show, at least that's what Bepo had said. Unfortunately for Law, he ended up being the polar bear's requested companion.

"Sure you don't want to change places with me?" Law appeared next to you, while you finished cleaning the kitchen.

"No captain, I'll be right here, with my duties." You smiled at him and, despite being frustrated, he let out a sideways smile.

"You know that I'm the captain right? That I can give the order and you have to go and I don't."

"You wouldn't be so mean, would you?" you asked indignantly and on one of the few occasions, you heard him laugh, even if it was low tone. "Captain!"

"I'm kidding. Just keep an eye on everything, okay? Don't let Shachi and Penguin cause any trouble."

"Yes, sir. And you, enjoy the show."

You were almost regretting not accepting the proposal. Law would certainly be much better at containing you and preventing you from getting into a big fight than you would be doing the opposite. But you liked the idea of him trusting you.

"Everything is alright?" Ikkaku took you out of your reverie, noticing your body slightly bent and the blood falling on your forehead.

"Try holding back a furious Trafalgar Law from wanting to get into a fight and tell me if that's okay." You laughed, even though it took some of the air out of you. "Just a few bruises, nothing major."

"Come on, I'll help you take care of this." Ikkaku gently pulled you by the hand.

"Boys, do you deal with them?" you asked and they both nodded. "If Law wakes up, don't say anything to him about our little fight."

"You mean, about the big fucking beating he gave you?" Shachi teased you, earning a push.

"Exactly. He has bigger problems to worry about than dealing with this."

You and Ikkaku headed towards the dorm you shared. Your friend made a point of supporting you at every step, even if you insisted it wasn't necessary. She sat you down on the bed and grabbed a small first aid kit hidden on one of the shelves.

"Why not tell the captain?"

"Outch" you mumbled with one of the stitches she had on your face. "I have a feeling he's not going to like that we got into this fight without his presence."

"I think he'll be more resentful that you were the one who held him back." You laughed at her silly observation, then grumbled with another needle. Damn fight. "Don't act stupid."

"What you mean?"

"I'll let you choose. Between you being the only one who can steal books from him without him complaining or about every time we disembark, you having to be on his side. Should I mention that time he freaked out because Kid wanted to take you to the crew from him?" she laughed to herself, at her own memory. "What do you need to see that he likes you too?"

"And who said I like him?"

"Okay, you still want to keep hiding your feelings for him, just hide it better." she laughed again. It was clear to her - and anyone else who saw - that there was something between the two of you. You just prefer not to feed this illusion. "Still, I agree that he won't like all this one bit. Let's try to keep out of his sight."

Law was still trying to assimilate everything that happened. Uta's show had turned into a war scene and in the end, even he had become a puppet. That idea would haunt him for a long time.

Despite recent events, Polar Tang was quiet, too quiet. He could hear some buzzing, nothing he could identify. Another thing he couldn't place was you. The last time he saw you, he had tried to bargain for your presence at the show, even though he had asked to change places with you, he didn't think the idea of going with you was bad. You'd probably hate the song, but he'd enjoy your sarcastic comments about any awkward situation. A small laugh crossed his lips when he thought about what you would say to see little Bepo.

At dinner, he observed Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, talking to each other. The concerned expressions denoted the seriousness of the matter, but that could come later. Even though he slept through it all, he still felt tired.

At lunch the next day, again, nothing from you. Ikkaku was also missing. It was impossible for the two of them to have disappeared together and without any justification. He tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios, but no matter how much he denied it, he wasn't such an optimistic person.

It only took a few seconds of your three companions stalling for him to know that you and Ikkaku were up to something or had already been up to something. He left them behind, following with firm steps to your room.

"I didn't see you two at lunch or yesterday at dinner, I wanted to know..." you two found Law leaning against the door of your room. His relaxed position disappeared in seconds when he looked at where Ikkaku's hand joined your forehead. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches, nothing major." your colleague replied before you could open your mouth. She knew - actually, you weren't that good at hiding it - about your feelings and how easily you could wrap your head around your own words.

"Yeah, they're from yesterday, some scratches." you tried to complement, the captain's serious expression made it clear that that hadn't helped at all.

"Nothing much and that's why you haven't shown up since yesterday?" he grumbled and before he could continue his lecture, he felt his body being pushed forward, with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin falling beside him. "What the fuck?"

"We just wanted to know if you already know that she was the one..." before the bear finished speaking, the other two covered his mouth.

The grey eyes trailed from you to Ikkaku, to the group lying next to him, and back to you again. The small stress that was forming inside Law turned into concern when he saw the small trickle of blood dripping from your eyebrow.

It only took a few moments away for you to appear like that and he would never tolerate that, you didn't need to know about his feelings or how he was already thinking about taking revenge on whoever had done that, he would deal with it after taking care of your wound .

"Everyone out." you made to follow Ikkaku, stopping a few meters away. "Not you, I need to see this."

The door to the small room knocked subtly behind Law, who waited for a few seconds to approach you. The two of you already had a considerable height difference, but when you felt Law's cold, tattooed fingers on your chin, you felt even smaller. He turned both sides of your face, despite the cold touch, you could feel your skin burn beneath his fingers.

"You're warm, but I don't see any trace of infection." Not this one, you thought. "Give me the name?"

"Name?"

"Which idiot did this?" he replied without much patience, his fingers leaving your face behind.

"This is going to be a funny story." you laughed, stopping immediately when you saw him look deep into your eyes, his expression serious in an almost irritating way.

"Someone decided to hurt one of my crew. I don't think it's such a funny story. Who did it?"

"Captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law." your answer didn't seem to catch him instantly, with each word that left your mouth, you could see him getting paler and paler. "I believe you already know, but Uta managed to control everyone who was asleep to attack the pirates and the marines and with that, you and Bepo were also controlled. The boys held Bepo and I had to deal with you, but everything is fine. "

"They told me about Bepo..." he seemed lost for words, taking a certain distance from you and leaning on the small table in your room. "So you restrained me, alone?"

"You, actually Uta, didn't have access to your Devil Fruit powers, it ended up being easier. After all, our mission was just to keep you two away from the navy." you explained, leaning on the opposite side to where he was, seeing his crestfallen expression. "Like I said, it's okay captain."

"Where else did I hurt you?" the question took you by surprise, making it difficult to hide your reaction. "I know my strength, I have a feeling it wasn't just that. I could see it myself, but I trust you, so please."

With your fists clenched and your gaze following your every step, Law could see your hand go to your ribs, along with a grumble, as you bent down to pick up a small cloth and fill it with something that smelled similar to alcohol. As much as he noticed you trying hard, he could see you limping. He watched you smear the contents on one of your cheeks and your arm, revealing some bruises.

You stopped in front of him, letting him analyze. Despite the pain throughout your body, Law's proximity was almost like an anesthetic. If he stayed there, you wouldn't mind spending the day under his gaze. Law took your arm, gently sliding his fingers under the bruise, watching you flinch in discomfort. His hands practically put your arm back in place and placed themselves on the zipper of your jumpsuit.

Your hands placed themselves next to his, pulling the device and opening the entire piece. Of all the times he had dreamed of touching your skin, none had felt like this. He liked to imagine how soft it would be, to think about how your body would shiver, to feel with his own lips every piece of exposed skin, while he heard you ask for more. All the purple spots he had dreamed of leaving on your skin were nothing like the one he saw. Thoughts would need to be put aside at that moment.

His hand knocked down one side of your jumpsuit, showing the large bruise on your rib, which made him hold his breath for a few seconds.

"What else?" his voice was barely audible. He knew there was more to it, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Just this cut." you took off the other strap of your jumpsuit and let it fall below your waist, showing the wound on your thigh. It wasn't that big, but when you both looked at the place, you understood where all the warmth in your body was coming from. "Shit. It wasn't like this last time I looked." actually it was, you just wanted to spare him the worry.

You adjusted your jumpsuit, leaving the top hanging around your waist. Your eyes searched for Law's, but he seemed to be far away, even just a few centimeters away. For some time, he didn't say anything. His eyes followed one point you had shown and others, looking for other signs. His hands prostrated in front of his body, why had he done that? Why hurt you?

"Law?"

"I...I..." the words seemed stuck somewhere inside him. His hands placed themselves next to your face, a gesture you hadn't received from him yet. "I don't know how to apologize. Forgive me, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"No need, Law, really. I was doing what any of us would do, taking care of our crew, taking care of our captain."

Again the words seemed to have escaped him. He just wished he could hold you and apologize a thousand times, hold you there and heal every little part of you and never allow anything to hurt you again. Some conscious side of him screamed in the background that this wasn't anyone's fault, but the sound seemed so far away to hear, while the picture of what he had done was so close to him.

A few seconds passed, his hands were still on your face, while you just enjoyed the awkward affection you received. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling, it was a guilt like he had never felt. Along with a fear, a need to see you well. There were too many things to deal with and at that moment, he chose to be the most rational one.

"It's infected and may have broken something." Law let his medical side take control of the situation. "Room. Shambles."

Before you even noticed the blue dome surrounding you, the two of you had already been transported to the infirmary. You remained standing in your place as you watched the captain hurriedly walk around the room, collecting some materials and before you could try to get on the stretcher, the two of you were already being taken to another place.

The table full of books, the small window of the Polar Tang showing some little orange fish passing by outside, a cozy bed, even with the sheets spread out. That definitely wasn't your room. You watched Law leave the materials on the table and reach Kikoku. You saw the blue dome again, this time, you knew that he was using his powers to confirm that you had indeed presented all your injuries to him.

"I was worried about your rib, but apparently it was just the bruise. Now about your leg, I may need to redo those stitches and medicate you. I can't let the infection spread."

You knew he was nervous, bordering on anxious, but you had known him long enough to know that stopping him from treating you would be even worse. You had chosen to hide your injuries so that Law wouldn't feel guilty, now that he knew, you didn't have much else to do.

"Law." you called out to him carefully, as he prepared the medication. "Do you mind if I bathe first?"

"Sure, I mean, no problem. Just wait a second." He walked away from the table and piled up some things, which he handed into your hand. "Here's my towel, I also left some clothes in case you want to use them, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can ask Ikkaku..."

"This is perfect, thank you Law." you hugged the small bundle of clothes close to your body.

"Room." again, in a matter of seconds, you were at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, but your leg is really hurt, you shouldn't force it while walking."

"Okay" unlike the time he had taken you to the infirmary, now he had transported you close to each other, which made the air disappear from your lungs. "Can you wait for me? I mean, you said I wouldn't I should force my leg and..."

"I'll be outside, just call me and I'll be here." Please call me, Law's inner voice practically screamed.

Your shower was much quicker than you expected. Just knowing that he was waiting for you outside made butterflies fight in your stomach. You gently dried your body and took the clothes he had given you. Something that looked like shorts - it might have been underwear, but you didn't worry about that right now - and a black button-down shirt. As soon as you button the last button, you can pay attention to the smell of the fabric. Something soft, woody, you wondered if that was his scent.

"Law?" All it took was a small call and he soon entered the bathroom. Not as discreetly as he expected, his eyes roamed your body. "Can you help me?"

"Of course" your feet left the floor, giving you a few seconds to assimilate that he had picked you up and carried you back to the room. He hadn't done this before, but you preferred to just enjoy the sensation, locking your arms around his neck.

With a few steps inside the room, he placed you lying on the bed, pulling a rod further to the side, only then did you notice the hanging IV.

Law bent down, reaching your arm level, cleaning it with a small piece of cotton. He looked at the wound on your leg. In silence, he cleaned the area and took some bandages, placing them across the entire length of the wound. The contrast between your warm skin and his cold hands was strangely comfortable. You wished they would last a little longer there.

"I think we can leave these stitches for another day, but I need you to take this medicine. It's an antibiotic, the infection is small, but I'd rather take care of it soon." He pulled the small needle, seeing your face pale. "I'm sorry darling, but it's the best option we have."

Darling.

That word would echo in your mind for a long time. The fear of the needle that was about to come into contact with your skin eased when you saw the care he took with each gesture.

"Just don't look, okay?" He waited for you to close your eyes. "Just a few seconds and that's it. You'll feel sleepy, but that's normal. As soon as you wake up, I'll bring you something to eat."

He got up and started to adjust the pillows on the bed, the ones that were around and under you. His hands rested around your body, his body was on top of yours, even without any immediate contact. It was inevitable not to get lost in his eyes, or see him do the same with yours. You would like to engrave that in your memory, forever.

"Are you comfortable?" his face still had the same tense expression from the first moment he found you in the room.

"I am, I promise." you replied, in a burst of courage, you brought your hand to his face, touching his cheek. "Law, what worries you so much?"

He walked away, sitting at the foot of the bed. You just straightened up so you could look at him. His tattooed hands took off his hat, fingers tangling against the dark strands.

"I can't deal with the fact that I did this. I did this to you. Of all the people that could have been there, I hurt you." he grumbled, turning so he could look at you. "You do not understand."

"Actually, I understand." your answer left him stunned for a few seconds. "But don't blame yourself, you didn't choose this, captain"

"I know, but at the same time..." he huffed, trying to find the right words, which scratched his insides every time he looked at your scourged face. "You understand me, huh? I mean, I don't just see you as a crew member and something tells me you don't just see me as your captain. And knowing that of all the things that could have happened, I hurt you. I promise compensate you for everything."

"About what you said, about what we see in each other." your thought was interrupted by a long yawn. "What should we do about this?" You made to get up, but the IV attached seemed to transmit drowsiness straight to your body. Your eyes were already starting to get heavy.

"That we can deal with this later. You took care of me, now it's my duty to take care of you. For that, you need to rest." His hands reached yours, giving a slight laugh when he saw you fighting with your own eyes, wanting to leave them open. "I promise not to hurt you again or let anyone else hurt you."

Before you fall asleep for good, you can feel his lips on your hand.

#one piece #op imagines #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #no use of y/n #fiction #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #requests open #one piece film red #heart pirates

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amnestria-the-elf · 4 months ago

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So we're all just supposed to be fucking grateful that Larian gave us "new Wyll content" (evil ending for a man who is canonically incorruptible, what the fuck) and simultaneously broke him again (giving low approval greetings to a romanced PC, what the fuck).

I... I just... the simultaneous feelings of rage and utter hopelessness are overwhelming.

Listen, if you've read any of my posts you know I have a pretty clear "Don't yuck anyone's yum" policy. If you think an evil Wyll ending is interesting, fine. But here's why it falls flat for me.

First, like I said above, Wyll is canonically incorruptible. It's literally the entire basis of his character. He is a man who was coerced into making an infernal contract to save a city and had to pay a horrible price for doing so, then spent seven fucking years alone in the wilderness doing his damned best to protect the people of the Sword Coast, while all along telling his horrible, abusive patron to just fuck off already.

Now, could you argue that during the events of the game, Wyll develops a taste for evil? Sure. There are plenty of opportunities for his villain origin story to unfold. But they never do. His moral compass never wavers. Turned into a devil? He feels shame, because it's an outward sign that he was doing things for Mizora that were morally wrong, and he didn't see it before. His approval rating for the PC shoots through the roof if you save Karlach, a sure indicator of his true moral compass. His father kidnapped? Fuck that noise, we're gonna save him. Rescue Zariel's "asset"? Ugh, fine, but don't get distracted from the real reason we're here. His father gets tadpoled? Oh hells no, we're gonna take down these assholes and save the godsdamned world. His father accuses him of being an agent of a devil and is super pissy about it? "Everything I did, I did for the people of the Sword Coast."

For fuck's sake, he will leave the party if the PC gets too evil, even knowing it means he'll probably turn into a mindflayer immediately. Even if he's romancing the PC. Unwavering moral compass. So giving him an evil ending without also going back and changing everything about his character just feels like lazy writing to me.

Which brings me to the second reason all of this rubs the wrong way. Wyll deserves so much more content. More romanced greetings, more reactions to other characters' choices, a final boss battle that is actually about him, a default ending that actually makes fucking sense (I have another post cooking about the Avernus ending, so I will leave it for now.)

And please, spare me your "But Wyll was rewritten after early access" bullshit. That's Larian's problem. They chose to listen to feedback and do a late-stage rewrite. They then chose to implement it poorly and never fucking fix it. Other characters, who already have far more content than Wyll, have had even more added over the course of the seven released patches. Wyll, on the other hand, has been sitting around completely ignored until now when we get this evil ending.

Many have rightfully pointed out the inherent racism steeped in all of this. I want Larian to be better. But as Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." I already didn't have much hope about Patch 7 for Wyll, but this... honestly, this is worse than him just being ignored again.

The thing that kills me the most is that this is just going to be more fodder for the fandom to completely mischaracterize Wyll, for those who already haven't bothered to think critically about his character at all to just be like, oh, cool, Wyll is evil now. Nope. You've completely missed the point.

I'm just... so tired. I've worked very hard to put this little bubble of Wyll enthusiasts around me (hi friends I love you all!) so that I can hold on to some shred of sanity in this fandom. The world needs heroes of color. Just let Wyll be the hero in peace.

#larian critical #patch 7 #wyll ravengard

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dropoutconfessions · 3 months ago

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It makes me incredibly angry when people say "Riz is canonically aro/ace" and act like you're a horrible person if you ship him with people. Like. Nowhere in the show is it ever stated that he's aro/ace. The conversation people reference as him being "canonically" aro/ace is just him expressing his lack of very specifically sexual attraction, and even then the response from his dad (and by extension Brennan and the show as a whole) is that it's okay, and that it's specifically unclear whether he's ace or whether it's just not something that's happened for him in specific yet. It is intentionally vague as to whether he is ace or not, and there's genuinely zero indication in the show that he's aro other than that he doesn't have a love interest which could be completely unrelated.

Right so I'd like to share my opinion on this for a brief moment. I am still fully here to give people a voice, but this is just, an issue that kinda hits close to home since I'm demiaro.

The most annoying thing in a lot of media is when representation is shoehorned in as a list of labels and buzzwords we're given. Queer people should not have to turn to the screen and say their full identity in order for them to be canonically queer. That's what subtext is for. That's what good writing does. Is not spell it out for you when it's not necessary to do so. They do not need it to be spelt out for it to be very clear that he's ace/aro.

I am going to assume ignorance here instead of assuming malicious intent. The idea that the reason he isn't ace, is because "it's not something that's happened for him in specific yet", is an extremely common thought process behind asexual erasure. I'm sure that's not what you intended, but that is something to reflect on in general.

Both Adaine and Riz have yet to have relationships or display crushes (not counting junior year since most of the evidence comes from sophomore year) . Adaine hasn't gotten an entire nightmare sequence / arc around dealing with here friends all finding partners and leaving them alone. Adaine hasn't expressed or had conversations about any lack of sexual or romantic feels to the extent Riz has. Adaine is headcanoned as ace/aro by some people. Riz is more than that. Riz is very much canonically ace/aro if you do the slightest bit of character analysis. There's accidental coding and then there's Riz Gukgak.

List of every single Riz trait that is hella ace/aro coded

A lack of sexual and romantic attraction to other people (I'm not counting the time where he said he was kinda into Sexy Rat, that whole scene was a bit, and absolutely insane)

Making up a partner/crush in order to fit in (I have 1000% done that and so have a lot of acespec and arospec people)

A fear of being left behind by his friends because of a belief that they will find partners and move on from him, largely caused by alloromantic culture's insane emphasis on how the most important relationship is a romantic one

The fact that almost every other fantasy high pc has been in a relationship or a crush (kristen had tracker and gertie, gorgug had zelda, unit, and mary ann, fabian had aelwyn, ivy, and mazey, adaine had oisin and possibly zayn depends on your interpretation, and fig has had ayda and a string of professionals in a variety of fields across seasons 1 and 2) with only riz as a single character

The fact his sophomore year arc was entirely about his lack of sexual/romantic attraction and fear of being left alone because of it

Like not even a joke, it was that and his dad, that was the whole arc

His junior year arc was also about his obsession to stay together as a friend group, which like I mentioned above, is very clearly based in his asexuality and aromanticism

I am not going to stop people from shipping characters ever. If you want to rewrite character sexualities, that's fine by me, I'm a big believer in "Don't Like, Don't Read". I am not gonna pretend like characters are not their sexuality in canon so that people feel justified in writing their stories. People who rewrite character sexuality can do so without making everyone else assuage their guilt for them. I know I'm on the "piss on the poor" reading comprehension website, but it's not hard to tell Riz is ace/aro in canon, and pretending otherwise doesn't help your case.

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ruggiesbiologicalfather · 1 month ago

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i've been struck by inspiration

here's my ranking of twisted wonderland students by how likely i'd be to let them behind the wheel of a car. this is gonna be a long one bc i'm including explanations of course. (and i know that in-game it's rare to be able to drive, we're ignoring that and pretending it's common to drive around)

1. Leona: canonically, he can drive and drive well. i feel like this was an easy one. but it makes sense!

2. Vil: he just has so many random skills that i feel like driving would be no problem at all. honestly, there's not much that i think vil CAN'T do

3. Trey: everything about him screams Responsible Driver. he would definitely play chauffeur for heartslabyul whenever they need to go somewhere. AND he'd have snacks in the glove compartment. 10/10 ride

4. Jamil: he can absolutely drive well - near perfect i'd argue. what's the alternative? let KALIM drive? get real. it's his duty to get where he needs to go safely

5. Jack: the self-discipline that this boy possesses is unrivaled. he would be locked in behind the wheel. he spent so long becoming the best driver he can be and by god, he's gonna prove it

6. Deuce: LISTEN TO ME, LISTEN! he's really good on that blastcycle which is more dangerous and difficult (said as a former bike/atv guy). a car is nothing to him. plus he's on his Honor Student streak so he's trying his best. my only worry is speed. slow it down, friend

7. Epel: similar to deuce. farm kids learn to drive really early in their lives. HOWEVER... driving safely?? hmmmm... his biggest flaws are going too fast and whipping around curves when no one else is on the road

8. Riddle: he would definitely follow all the road rules. to the letter. every trip would take an extra 30 minutes to an hour. no music, windows up, silence. he won't even let YOU be on your phone lest he become distracted. also ROAD RAGE. interstate driving would get very scary

9. Ortho: fuck it, let the robot give it a shot

10. Azul: i feel like once he figured out the mechanics, he would be fine on the road. however, if he got pulled over he would definitely argue with the cop and get us both arrested. so... i'm gonna pass

11. Jade: yes, we're getting where we need to go. but... nefariously. and there's something in the trunk. i feel like he'd also randomly go "oops" just to freak out his passengers. "what do you mean OOPS?" "don't worry about it :)"

12. Ruggie: there's a wildness to my boy that drove his ranking down. he would definitely drive a jeep with the doors off. music blasting, wind whipping around everywhere. it would be a fairly safe drive but not a particularly enjoyable one. also i would fall out

13. Silver: i don't know, i feel like he would be chill. i put him low bc briar valley doesn't have cars so his driving education would be quite scarce and he'd be a new driver. but he could get the job done. probably

14. Sebek: similar to silver but he needs to relax. malleus is fine, we're just going to walmart

15. Ace: he just gives off the vibe of "16-year-old kid in the car his dad bought for him." never lets anyone merge, hits curbs, can never figure out the speed limit, etc, etc. even worse if deuce is in the car! "ace, watch out for the mailbox!" "don't tell me what to- *BANG*"

16. Cater: gay people can't drive

17. Rook: distracted driver. god forbid there's wildlife around, he would turn 180 in his seat to look at it. this Oh Shit Handle is getting some use. also i KNOW his car would be shit. i don't care that his family is rich, he's driving a 2003 hyundai sonata

18. Floyd: LISTEN! there's a 50/50 shot that everything goes perfectly fine. like as long as he's in a good mood, he can get the job done. you definitely just have to check in before you buckle up. get ready to tuck and roll

19. Malleus: what is a car?

20. Idia: there's so much anxiety there i feel like one thing would go slightly left and he'd almost pass out. he's white-knuckling the wheel, praying that no one else is on the road. it's alright buddy, you can be a passenger princess

21. Kalim: No.

22. Grim + Yuu: okay, for this one it's a joint effort. yuu at the wheel and grim on the pedals. there's so much chaos and screaming. four-way stops don't exist. yellow lights are green and red lights are yellow. the horn has not stopped honking since the engine started. this is an emergency situation ONLY. like someone is bleeding out in the backseat and no one is answering their phones

23. Lilia: absolutely not. i will walk

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst heartslabyul #twst savanaclaw #twst octavinelle #twst scarabia #twst pomfiore #twst ignihyde #twst diasomnia

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softspeirs · 5 months ago

Text

Reprieve (BoB/MoTA x OC)

Summary: What if Bucky and Buck managed to escape the forced march that night in Germany? What if in a really roundabout way, they got some help from some locals and found their way to the 101st? What if! Loosely follows the events of this AU. Author's Note: No romantic pairings (a bit of Speirs/OC mentioned). Features my BoB OC, Kat Gray. This is very much a "magic of fanfiction" story - doesn't fit with canon and certainly would not have happened in real life. It's fine - we're all insane here anyway. Enjoy! Warnings: mentions of PTSD, and descriptions of war-related injuries. Words: 8k+ (I am so sorry)

“Welcome back to the land of the living Major. You look like you’ve seen better days.” The woman’s American accented-voice is clear as a bell and yet Bucky still thinks he’s hallucinating. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Bucky tries to sit up.

"Not so fast," she says, leaning over him so he can see her.

“Where am I?” He croaks.

"You’re in an aid station with the Airborne. You've been out for two days. Take it easy." She sounds familiar.

"Have we met?” he asks, ignoring her request to sit still. His ribs ache, and his throat feels so dry he feels like he’s swallowed sand.

"Once upon a pub in England, Major Egan." The woman busies herself around him, gathering bandages and other supplies, and when he can finally force his eyes to focus his gaze, he sees her, and he can't help but let out a breathy, disbelieving chuckle as he recognizes her.

"Of all the gin joints..."

She turns around and grins. "Something like that." She holds out her hand. "Corporal Kat Gray, sir. It's good to see you."

He takes her hand gratefully, squeezing. "I'd say the same, but--" he winces as he reaches up to touch his eye. He can't see out of his left eye at all. It's eerily similar to how he arrived at Stalag Luft III, and he wants to vomit at the thought. "How--"

"You and Major Cleven have had a rough few days." She says, her tone taking on a more somber tone. "He's just fine." She adds, reading the panic on his face. "He’s being debriefed by our CO.” She leans in. “I’m going to try to clean this a bit better,” she says gently. “I’m going to adjust you for a minute, but if you can look up for me, I won’t need to touch you much.”

He feels a strange mix of shame and relief at the way she’s talking to him - telling him what she’s going to do and giving him the power to say yes or no… it’s certainly an adjustment compared to what some visits to the infirmary in Germany were like.

He looks up at her, and she nods reassuringly, reaching to adjust him so she can see him better in the dim light. “How on Earth did you end up here?”

The last few days all feel like a blur, and Bucky bites back the rising panic at the thought of what his and Buck’s escape might mean for their friends. “Buck and I have been in a POW camp since ‘43.”

Kat is quiet, meeting his gaze with large, dark eyes. “I’m very sorry to hear that. Obviously you escaped. Nearly ran right into our outpost.”

He sighs, scratches at his jaw. "They evacuated the camp. We’d been having conversations with our guys for a week or so when we knew the Germans were going to march us. We agreed that a few of us should try to get back. I remember finally finding a window to make a run for it, and--" he stops as he flashes back to a dark night, moments of complete panic, and finally, watching Buck escape over that wall. "-- got the butt of a rifle for my troubles."

"That explains the bruising." She leans in, her fingers cool against his fevered forehead. "Did you have a previous injury here?" Her gaze is narrowed in on a spot somewhere near his cheekbone.

He really doesn't want to talk about it. It was hard enough trying to tell his guys what happened to him, and he's just not sure he has the words to try to describe it to someone else. He'll have to eventually. If they ever make it back... but that's about the only time he thinks he can manage to get the words out. "Yes." He says finally. "When I went down…. They walked us through a city that had been recently bombed, and between the civilians and the guards..." He trails off, jaw tight.

Her eyes are understanding. She doesn't press him, and he's grateful. Instead, she leans back against the wall at her back, folding her arms across her chest. "So I've got good news and bad news. The good news is I don’t think you’ll have any lasting damage, even in that eye. I don't think your orbital bone is broken, but you'll be sore for a while. The bad news is that you need to speak with our S-2, on account of how you might be a spy and everything."

Bucky blinks at her.

Kat smiles. "It’s just a joke. But… procedure. You know it goes. Technically I probably shouldn’t have asked you anything about how you got here.” She shrugs, waves a hand dismissively. She stands up straight, takes a few steps back from him. "Think you can walk?"

“Would it matter if I can’t?” He grumbles, pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Of course,” she frowns. He has to remind himself where he is and who he’s with. He’s gotten so used to hiding any major or minor injury, any sign of illness, and being forced to stay on his feet for what felt like hours on end, sometimes in the middle of the night.

Kat continues, “Though, sir, if you were to… as a Major, of course… give me permission to order Captain Nixon to come to you instead, I would really really enjoy that.”

Outside, he shields his eyes from the bright light with his right hand. His head throbs, but he keeps walking. He glances down at the woman beside him.

Helmet in her hand, he gets a better look at her now that they're not in a room lit with barely a single bulb.

"Where are we?" Bucky asks, voice low.

"Somewhere between Belgium and Bavaria." She says. "We’ve been here for a week, pulled off the line not too long ago.”

Her voice is scratchy, whether from overuse or from illness, he can't tell. She has a fading bruise on her left cheek, a mirror of the one on his face. She looks older than the last time he saw her.

He remembers her, fresh-faced and in a clean uniform on a pub night where he and Buck and Benny were all together and intact. Not a scratch on them or dust on their uniforms. He remembers her easy smile and the way her men closed ranks around her at the first sign of his flirting.

They walk a few more feet to a requisitioned building that's practically falling apart. It's warm though, and that's really all he cares about. That, and seeing for himself that Buck is here and alive.

He hears his low voice before he sees him. Buck is standing bent over a table covered in maps. Across from him are two captains - one he vaguely remembers and one he hasn't met yet. All three straighten at his approach.

"Major Egan, this is Captain Winters and Captain Nixon."

After two hasty salutes that Bucky feels uncomfortable receiving, Nixon's hand is the first outstretched for a shake. "Egan. Good to see you on your feet."

"Thanks." He replies distractedly as he looks at his friend. "Buck? Entertaining guests already?" He asks, gesturing at the room they're in - it clearly used to be a kitchen.

Buck smirks. "Should have remembered to get down the good silverware."

"What, uh…" He wants to ask what happened after the woods, after-- he remembers finding Buck in the woods, hands trembling and alone. He had waited for him, said he knew he'd catch up eventually, and said George was gone.

They walked the entire night and next day, sticking to the woods as much as possible until they got close enough to the front to hear American voices. It's a bit hazy after that. Between the certain head trauma and the exhaustion, he doesn't remember much.

Buck shakes his head, almost imperceptible if Bucky hadn’t been searching his expression. Later, it seems to say.

Nixon gets Bucky’s attention by clearing his throat. “If you can come with me for a minute, Major.” he says, gesturing to another room off to one side.

“Nix, I really don’t think–” Kat tries to interject.

“Kat, we can’t make exceptions.” Nixon says warningly, though his tone is nowhere near harsh. He turns back to Bucky. “Look, Major, I remember you, and I know you’ve already been through this with your far less kind hosts, but I’ve got to ask you a few questions before we do anything else.”

With a look at Buck, who nods reassuringly, Bucky goes.

They go through the whole thing - name, rank, serial number, what’s the national anthem, who is the President and when was he elected… the whole thing. All things considered, Bucky actually thinks Captain Nixon goes pretty easy on him.

They join the others after a few more minutes, Bucky absently rubbing his temples which are already starting to ache.

The taller man -- Winters -- seems to want to get down to business. He turns to Kat. "Corporal Gray. Hang around for a minute?"

"Yes sir." She says, finding a place to perch on a counter behind Buck. As she hoists herself up, Bucky catches the glimpse of a dirtied bandage that takes up nearly her entire arm as her sleeve rides up.

Trying to focus on the task at hand, he and Buck go over every second of their escape until Bucky can't remember much else. His jaw clenches as Gale recounts how he half carried, half dragged Bucky to the other side of a ditch so they could get to the American side of the line.

"Gotta say, you're a couple of lucky bastards," Nixon says. "A few hours later and that town would have been either empty or back in German hands." He meets Bucky's eyes.

They go over a map for a few more minutes."We were marching in this direction,” Buck says, pointing at the map, “But it’s hard to know for sure, and there's no way to know how long they were going to make us go."

"Well, they'll meet up with the Army at some point." Nixon says firmly. "Nothing classified about it - we're making gains in all directions. It won't be long."

Bucky nods, trusting him and his intuition. At least he could sleep at night knowing he didn't resign his friends to too many more months of hell.

"Any chance you'll be the one to break them out of there?" Bucky asks.

"It's hard to say." Winters says eventually. "We're assuming our next move is into Germany, possibly farther into the Reich than Berlin. We won't know until we get our orders." He looks apologetic, and both Bucky and Buck know that despite their rank, despite the fact that they’re all officers in the Army, Winters can’t tell them much more. He probably shouldn’t have told them any of this at all.

Winters switches gears, turning to Kat. "What's the diagnosis, Kat?"

"Concussion watch for Major Egan," she meets his eyes briefly, "Two broken ribs and obviously the damage to his left eye." Her tone is pretty clinical, but Bucky doesn't take it personally. "I'd like to get some food in both of them, and Major Cleven's got a cough I don't like the sound of."

"Well, he’ll fit right in then.” Nixon says.

Kat rolls her eyes and kicks the Captain lightly with one dangling foot. "I think the interrogation will have to continue another day. I'd like Roe to check them out too." She continues quietly. At their nod, she takes charge, a hand on Buck's shoulder to guide him out the door, and a glance over her shoulder at Bucky signaling that he should follow.

Outside, he finally asks. "Why is it you don't have one of those lapel pins yet, Gray?"

She snorts. "I should think it's obvious, Major."

"Really, the rank thing is all bullshit anyway." He says.

"John..." Buck grumbles as they walk.

"It's okay--" Kat says, stopping only when they hear a loud whistle overhead. Bucky's entire body tenses. They’d been hearing artillery in the distance at the stalag for weeks, but it’s different when it’s happening right over their heads. "Over here." Kat’s voice is firm, urgently directing them into a doorway.

"Is that--" Buck stops short of asking, the earth rumbling under their feet for a moment.

"Enemy artillery. They're not that accurate. We're too close- they're just on the other side of the river."

"And yet...." He looks down at the way she’s setting her helmet firmly down on her head and raises his eyebrows at the urgency in her voice.

She sighs. "Let me find you both a place to sleep and some food, and then I'll tell you what the last few months have been like."

Kat leads them upstairs where they're given a small kit with some essentials, and a few k-rations to split between the two of them. They've even got a chocolate bar to split, and Bucky swears he's never tasted anything so good in his life.

"Don't go bragging about that," the soldier who handed it to him says. "I'll never hear the end of it."

Kat chuckles from her spot on a beat-up sofa in the center of the room. It’s some sort of supply depot - different members of the company trail in and out, hauling boxes with ammo, rations, and even mail at one point. It’s clear many of them are bunking in here too.

She tells them about the last few months in Bastogne - her eyes go a little hazy and her face clouds over in grief as she skips some of the nastier parts. “Once you hear the whistle of artillery like that, you don’t forget what comes after. That’s why I’m a little jumpy. Even though they’re missing us with mortars all day, it's just…” She shrugs. “It’s never a sure thing.”

"Tell me about that arm, Kat." Bucky says, curiosity getting the better of him. "Let me guess, I should see the other guy?" He asks.

"Not exactly." She says, smile dimming. “Like I said, German artillery went off pretty much every day, at all hours. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

"Got knocked on her ass." Another man sitting opposite her says. His eyes have been narrowed on Buck and Bucky since they arrived.

"Oh, shut up, Lieb." Kat bites back, but there's no heat in her words.

Buck and Bucky share a look, the barest hint of a smile on Gale's face. The friendly banter makes Bucky ache for a simpler time, when they’d be doing nothing but giving each other shit and playing cards all night. It feels like a thousand years ago.

“I was wounded from shrapnel here,” she gestures at her arm. “Lost quite a bit of blood. Lucky for me, I was unconscious for the aftermath.”

More whistling suddenly sounds overhead. It sounds louder, closer than before. It's strange - Bucky knows how to anticipate enemy fighters, but this is uncharted territory for him.

"Everyone up." Kat orders, the few other men in the room standing hastily and gesturing that the Majors should follow them. "Wait--" She stops, pausing to listen. The urgency in her expression feels different than it did before, outside on the street.

"We gotta go, Kat." Liebgott says harshly, eyes a little wild.

Another whistle. The entire building shakes.

"Christ," Buck bites out through grit teeth.

On instinct, Kat reaches out to steady Bucky, one hand falling tight on his wrist. They keep each other upright, and he sees Liebgott doing the same thing on Kat's other side. His hand is clasped tight around her elbow, and then the next whistle comes screeching in.

"Go!" Buck says, always the leader, even when he's out of his element.

The four of them go racing down the steps, pausing only when the building shakes so violently, Bucky is sure it's going to come down with them still inside.

"Move!" Kat urges, pushing at his back when he falters. "I didn't nurse you back to life just to watch you die here, Major Egan." They all trip over each other halfway down the stairs when another blast hits, and Bucky coughs as dust and crumbled plaster rain down on them from above.

They've all stopped on the ground floor, crouched low as if that would stop an entire building from coming down on them. Buck's arm is over Kat's shoulders, Liebgott pressed tight to her other side.

"Medic!" The shout is nearby, and frantic. Kat squirms under Gale's arm.

"Major Cleven, I need you to let me up." She says, calm.

Buck blanches like he hadn't even realized he was doing it. "Sorry."

"No time for apologies, and none needed." She says. "Lieb, take them to the CP? They’re bunking there for the night."

With a quick smile, she's gone as if she had never been there in the first place, and they're left a little dazed, watching her go.

Out on the street, they hear raised voices, but Liebgott ushers them on, his steps quick. He keeps giving Bucky a look, so finally he decides to just tackle it head on.

"You don't have to keep looking at me like I'm going to steal your girl."

To his amazement, Liebgott's eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before he laughs, loudly. A cackle, really. "Major, she's not my girl. Though if you want a shiner to match the one you’ve already got, you keep on making the moves on her. In fact, I'd pay money to see what happens when--"

"Alright, alright." Bucky says. "I get the picture. Jesus."

"You haven't met Captain Speirs yet." Liebgott says, an amused smirk still on his face, stopping in front of yet another half crumbling building. "Third floor. Good luck. Doc Roe is up there too - Kat wanted you to see him."

Buck levels Bucky with an exasperated look as soon as they get inside. "Been awake for less than two hours and already causing trouble."

"Trouble finds me, Buck."

They head upstairs and walk right into an argument. A man is in the center of the room, hands on his hips. Another medic is in front of him, looking for all the world like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Uh-- sorry to interrupt." Gale, ever the peacemaker, speaks up.

The man turns, giving them a view of the captain's bars glinting on his garrison cap. He says nothing, turns back to the medic in front of him. "Roe, listen. I already told her she's better off in bed but just do me a favor and give her a shift tomorrow morning. She's out there doing god knows what no matter what we say anyway. Might as well do it where you can keep an eye on her."

He exhales, turns back to the two newcomers. "Majors Cleven and Egan? I’m Captain Speirs. You'll be bunking here until we can figure out what to do with you."

Bucky bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t smirk. This is the infamous Captain Speirs that Kat may or may not be involved with.

"We hope we'll be out of your hair soon." Buck says.

"That'll be up to Doc Roe’s evaluation, I'm afraid." He gestures at the other medic, informally introducing them. "You've seen Kat already?"

Bucky nods. "Just got debriefed and almost shelled to death. She's somewhere dealing with a casualty."

Speirs' expression doesn't change too much, but it's enough that Bucky notices the way his jaw clenches and he shifts his weight.

"Man of few words." Bucky mutters under his breath.

"Better go see what's going on. No patrol tonight, so take your time, Roe, and for God's sake, make sure Lipton actually gets some sleep?"

"Yes, sir."

As Speirs leaves, the medic turns to them with a tired smile. "Sorry for all the commotion. We don't usually have visitors."

Bucky snorts. "You don't say." He settles himself on a chair while Roe has Buck move into a better light so he can see.

"I know Kat already did a preliminary check but I'll just do my own, if you don't mind." He frowns. "Those scars are awfully symmetrical, Major."

Bucky goes tense. Doesn't like the way Roe is sizing up his friend. Doesn't want Buck to have to relive any of it if he doesn't have to.

"Any of your jumps involve you going feet first through a German farmhouse window, Doc?" Buck rasps, eyebrow arching.

Roe hums, already moving to clean up a scrape from Buck's temple. "We had some nice fellas clear out a spot for us to land on our last jump."

"You also jump out of your planes on purpose."

Roe grins. "This is true." He wipes at a small spot of crusted blood near Buck's hairline. "This healed well enough. No infection. Seems like you might be stuck with them, though they might fade eventually."

Buck doesn't say anything. No more probing questions from the Doc either, for which Bucky is grateful.

“You and Kat both have that same cough…” He says, almost to himself. “We’ve got pneumonia going around, but your breathing sounds okay. Keep that scarf on,” he says, gesturing to the olive drab scarf tucked around Gale’s neck. “Try to stay warm. If we get another supply drop I might have something else for you, but it’ll probably have to wait until you get back home.”

Home. Thorpe Abbotts… it all seems so impossible.

"You're up, Major Egan." Roe says, waiting until he's seated in front of him to dab lightly at the bruising around his eye. "You're lucky you didn't lose this eye." He says mildly. "Looks like Kat cleaned it well; I'm not going to risk irritating it further." He stands back, crossing his arms. "About those ribs..."

Bucky bites back a wince and a noise of pain as Roe applies pressure to his midsection. “It’s not the first time. No time to let them heal up and they probably didn’t heal right the first time, either.

Roe meets his eyes. “Are you short of breath? Any stabbing pain?”

Bucky shrugs. "I've had worse."

Roe must read the expression on his face, because he doesn't push. Whether he can read in between the lines or not, he gets the message, and Bucky is grateful, because he can't talk about that night again. Not the night he was captured, and not the night he and Buck finally got out. He's just-- he wants to forget it ever happened.

"You'll bunk here with the other officers tonight." Roe says. "I'd get some rest before chow time, if I were you."

Buck and Bucky have no problem taking orders, and they're both almost asleep on their cots before their heads even hit the pillow. Bucky still feels anxious about how they're going to get back to England, but he hears the laughter of men outside, and is just grateful to be alive. To be back amongst allies, even if it's only temporary.

Bucky wakes early. He sits up slowly, groaning. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone move. “Jesus Christ, Kat.”

She cackles. “I’m so sorry. I was checking to see if you were still asleep.” She says, tone full of mirth.

He huffs as she laughs for a few more seconds before taking a step closer.

“How’s your head?”

He shrugs. “Sore.”

“Ribs?”

“Feel like I was kicked by a horse.”

“Do you think you can eat?”

He nods and Kat gestures that he should follow her. In the large living area, a few of the officers he met the day before are sitting around a long table, metal bowls with what looks like the world’s worst oatmeal in hand.

“Morning.” Captain Winters greets them both. He looks down at his wrist and checks his watch. “You should still be asleep.” He says pointedly to Kat, who has been doing her best to hide a cough in her elbow, but everyone can see the shadows under her eyes.

“Sorry sir. Wanted to check on the majors.”

“Where’s Buck?” Bucky asks suddenly, feeling guilty he hadn’t even checked.

“Took a walk.” Kat says. “Roe is with him.” She gestures for Bucky to sit, leans in to speak quietly to him. “He had a rough time sleeping.”

Bucky hadn’t heard a thing. He was so out of it, the exhaustion of the last week catching up to him.

Winters is watching him carefully. Clearing his throat, he asks, “So. Explain these nicknames to me.”

It’s so unexpected that Bucky can’t help but laugh. Bucky accepts the change in subject gratefully. He tells the whole story. Leaves out some of the more colorful details Gale would have added.

“You enlisted before Pearl Harbor?” Kat asks.

“So you beat us to the war in more ways than one,” Another officer at the other end of the table says, grinning. Bucky was introduced to Harry Welsh the night before, but he was so exhausted he doesn’t think he did more than exchange pleasantries. He likes him right away - he’s got a glint in his eye that showcases his good humor.

“Say, Gray, did you know if anyone in the Air Corps gets kicked off two crews, they get sent to the infantry?” Bucky leans back in his chair, accepts a bowl of what appears to be oatmeal from Kat as she passes it along.

“That explains a lot,” Welsh says with a wry smile.

Bucky grins. “Smartest guys in your division probably came from us first.”

Kat looks between the two men, shaking her head but smiling as she gives Bucky a faux stern look. “You’re confused, Major. We’re not just infantry. We’re the Airborne.”

The other Lieutenant down at the end of the table grins. “Could have used a few more of you bomber boys to clear the way for us on D-Day.”

“Kind of a shame I missed it, but I was otherwise occupied.” Bucky says. He looks away, not wanting to think too hard on what was going on in his head when they heard the invasion had started. It hadn’t been a good stretch of days for him.

“Morning,” Buck’s voice announces himself, and he comes in looking better than Bucky has seen him for weeks. The shadows under his eyes are still there, those scars on his cheeks prominent against his pale skin, but he looks more like himself.

“Major Cleven,” Kat says with a smile. “Got a bowl with your name on it.” Her tone is pleasant, but doesn’t leave any room for refusal. “Have a seat.”

A gentle smile tilts Buck’s mouth as he takes the bowl from her hands. “Yes ma’am.”

Buck and Bucky tuck in to their food, letting the chatter of Easy Company fill in the silence. Bucky feels…. Envious. It’s a strange feeling. He watches the way the officers and Kat and the various men who drift in and out of the building interact, and besides the guys in the Stalag, the boys in The 100th haven’t always been lucky enough to get to know their comrades like this.

It’s clear to him that Easy is a group that have been together a long time.

“What’s on your mind?” Buck asks, voice low.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just– wish the other guys were here. That’s all.”

Buck watches him closely. “Yeah.”

Kat is called away to the aid station before long, and they’re left with Captain Winters. He’s quiet, but asks them both where they’re from and how long they’ve been in the service. It’s an easy conversation, Lieutenant Welsh chiming in here and there before they both excuse themselves for a meeting.

“Something’s going down tonight.” Bucky says.

Buck nods, tucking another spoon of oatmeal into his mouth.

Kat comes back a little while later, lips in a tight line. The Majors watch her carefully, trying to figure out if they should go back to their rooms and give her some space.

“If you need something to do you can help me over here for a minute,” she says quietly. Her voice is flat.

“Everything okay?” Buck asks, tone gentle but inquiring. He’s good at this part - trying to get someone to open up without pushing. God knows Bucky has been on the receiving end of it more than enough times.

“Fine, I– I don’t know how much I can say.” She gestures for them to join her, and she hands Buck a handful of bandages to roll. “I’m just tired of losing people.” She says quietly, almost to herself.

Buck and Bucky don’t say anything – what is there to say? They know too how people - friends - are there one minute and gone the next. They busy themselves helping her, all three of them falling into a contemplative silence.

“You know,” Bucky says, “you’re keeping these guys alive, Kat. Even an idiot with only one eye can see that.”

That gets a smile, even a small one, and Bucky starts to feel for the first time like everything is going to be okay, eventually.

The door downstairs flies open with a bang in the middle of the night, and Bucky is on his feet before he even realizes what he’s doing. He has a flash of a memory - a clanging cell and screaming German voices - before he remembers where he is.

Hearing Kat’s loud voice doesn’t do anything to slow his heart rate. Across the hall, Buck is also up and moving, heading down the stairs with just one look at Bucky. Raised voices fill the space and for a minute Bucky can’t tell what’s happening.

“Here. Put him here!” Kat’s voice is high pitched and urgent, and he can hear the frustration in her voice clear as a bell.

“Majors, welcome to the patrol,” another gruff voice snaps, and a man with sergeant stripes turns to them. His face is exhausted. “Make yourselves useful and help Kat.”

“I need a light!” She calls out, looking around for anyone who can help. “Now!”

“Here–” The same sergeant is shoving past Bucky, holding out a lighter.

Buck and Bucky are moving, helping to hold down the soldier on the table so Kat can see.

“You’re all right, just keep still,” her voice lowers, hand pressed to the man’s forehead. “Major, there’s a syrette in my left pocket.”

It’s unclear which one of them she’s talking to, but Gale moves first, extracting the syrette quickly. “Better if you do it, Kat.” He says.

She takes it with nimble fingers, sticking it in the man’s shoulder. “I need Captain Speirs–” She breaks off, seeing someone over Bucky’s shoulder. She snaps her fingers. “Lip, I need the captain, we need a jeep.”

“Everyone else clear out, give her some space.”

“Not you–” Kat says, hand clasping Gale’s forearm. “Need help for one more minute. Need you to hold him here,” she says, gesturing towards the wounded man’s other shoulder.

With a deep breath, Buck does as instructed, bracing the man as Kat does something to his wound that has Bucky turning the other direction, suddenly woozy as the soldier lets out a harsh cry, writhing slightly under both Kat and Buck’s bracing hold.

Bucky moves closer despite his rolling stomach, wanting to help, but Kat lifts her head, shaking it at his approach.

“I don’t think so, Bucky. Not with those ribs.” She turns her attention to Sergeant Martin, still there with the lighter. “Sarge, I need that light closer.”

“Kat.” Buck’s voice is a little strangled, and Kat looks over quickly, eyes flicking down to the man on the table who has stopped writhing, eerily still.

She pushes him aside quickly, pressing two fingers to the man’s pulse. She sighs. “He’s okay, he’s just unconscious. Probably from the pain. It’ll be harder to move him that way.” She looks back at Martin, “Sarge, we need at least one other person.”

Just then, Lipton comes back in with Speirs hot on his heels, face tight with tension.

“Kat.” Speirs says, voice firm and full of relief all at once. “What happened?”

“Sniper to the shoulder. He’s stable but he needs a surgeon.” She responds without looking up, missing the look on the captain’s face when he sees her whole and intact.

“Martin.” Speirs barks.

The man doesn’t flinch, barely even takes his eyes off the younger private on the table. “We took fire almost immediately when we crossed the river but we got three prisoners. Liebgott and Web are trying to get some info out of them with Nixon.”

“And Patterson?” He gestures to the young private.

“Sniper, as soon as we turned a corner. No one saw him until he fired. We turned tail right after that.”

Speirs runs a hand down his face. Everyone in this room looks exhausted. Bucky wonders if he’s misreading the tension - they look how he’s felt for the last six months. “Get him in a jeep.”

Kat, Lipton, and Martin work quickly, leaving Buck and Bucky momentarily to stand there, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“Buck.”

His friend looks up, eyes refocusing, but he seems a million miles away.

“All right?”

“Fine. Just— he couldn’t have been eighteen.”

“He just turned nineteen two days ago.” Kat says roughly, reentering the room and shoving past them. “We had a party.” Her voice is a bitter, angry thing. “We keep doing these prisoner snatches, and we lost a man during the first one. It just feels so… pointless.” She looks up at them, schooling her expression. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be–”

The doors open again and Kat is back to being all business. Martin and Lipton come back inside a minute later, and the night stills, like nothing happened in the first place. Martin and Lipton lean against the now-empty table, arms crossed over their chests, and Kat all but collapses in a chair, hands trembling slightly.

“Appreciate your help, Majors.” Lipton says with an exhausted smile.

“Any time.” Bucky says. “Though I wasn’t much help.” He’s got that tone again, he knows he does, where he’s feeling like he’s not doing enough, that he’s not enough, and it earns him a sharp look from Buck.

“You two should go back to bed,” Kat says quietly. “We’re going to try to get you out of here tomorrow and it’ll be a long journey back to England.”

There’s a weird feeling brewing in Bucky’s gut where he almost doesn’t want to leave. It’s the venture into the unknown - every time they’ve been in a situation where it was going back home, back to England, or having something bad happen as the alternative, things have gone wrong.

Despite being on the front, this feels like the safest they’ve been in months, and he’s reluctant to give up this camaraderie.

Kat must read something on his face, because her shoulders straighten. “Major Egan, you’re going to go home. That’s– the rest of us don’t have that choice.”

Properly chagrined, Bucky nods. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Her expression is gentle, so he knows there was no bite behind her words, he just yet again is coming to terms with the fact that she’s been through hell and isn’t the same person he met all those years ago at the pub.

“Respectfully, sirs, off to bed with you both. Right now.”

Buck puts his hands up in surrender and heads up the stairs. Bucky trails behind him, Kat on his heels. Martin and Lipton bring up the rear, both looking like they could fall asleep standing up if need be.

After a whispered conversation in the hallway, Kat taps on Bucky’s door before entering. “I didn’t mean to be harsh, before.”

“You weren’t. You’re right.”

“Still, I know it’s not easy to feel… grateful, or relieved about your situation. Especially not after what you’ve been through.”

“It doesn’t need to be the ‘who has it worse’ Olympics, Gray.” He shrugs. “Two weeks ago it was probably me, but today and tonight it’s you.” He smiles at her. “Look, you’re going through this shit day in and day out and still putting on a brave face for everyone else.” He turns to face her fully. “Ever considered a transfer to the Air Corps?” He winks to let her know he’s kidding.

“Not in a million years, Major.” She nudges him with her elbow. “Get some rest, Bucky, and we’ll reexamine those ribs in the morning.”

“Thanks, Kat.”

The morning comes too soon for Bucky’s liking, and when he heads downstairs, there are only the remnants of the night’s watch group milling around. No sign of Kat anywhere, which makes Bucky a little anxious, but he heads inside the other room anyway, conversation dying as soon as he enters.

A lieutenant whose uniform looks so clean, it almost hurts to look at him snaps to attention.

“No, no, no.” Bucky says, tone wary. “Uh, at ease. No need for that.”

“Sir.” He says anyway, and there are a few snickers from the other men.

“Any chance for a coffee?” Bucky asks, sending a relieved smile at a man he hasn’t met yet who hands him a cup.

“It’s not hot yet but give me a minute.”

“Thanks, uh–” He squints at the stripes, “Sergeant–”

“Malarkey.”

A few more bodies filter into the room, and finally Kat appears, spending a second frowning and fussing over Bucky. She prods gently at the bruising around his eye and he winces, trying to cover up his reaction. She sees it anyway, lines between her brows getting deeper.

“Hurts worse than yesterday?”

“Not really. The same.” He replies. He’s extremely aware of all the eyes in the room being on him and Kat, and it makes him shift his weight, suddenly uncomfortable. “Why don’t you get a cup of coffee before it’s gone, huh?” He says. “Friends are waiting for you.”

Kat looks over her shoulder. “Yeah. Okay. But don’t think you’re getting away with pretending you’re fine, Bucky.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Kat gives him one last stern look before making a beeline for Liebgott in the corner who is holding an extra cup. He hands it over when she gets close, and Bucky watches the way the man eyes her carefully, like he’s trying to make sure she’s not going to fall apart any second.

It makes Bucky wonder about his guys, about the rest of the 100th and how they’re faring. He wonders how long the guilt will eat at him – probably until he sees for himself that they’re alive and well.

The mood in the room is tense, and Bucky wonders what happened before he came down, and notices one man’s bleary eyes on him. Bucky knows that look. The man’s attention quickly diverts to another fresh-faced private who enters the room quietly.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Webster?”

The room falls quiet.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, college boy.”

Bucky frowns and makes quick eye contact with Kat from across the room. Her expression is concerned.

“Are you drunk, trooper?” The lieutenant who had saluted Bucky asks, voice sharp.

“Leave me alone.”

Bucky has seen this before. Hell he’s been this before, though at least he had enough sense to not directly mouth off to Colonels Huglin or Harding… not in earshot anyway.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, sir, I am drunk, sir. Drunk. Sick and tired of fucking patrols… taking orders.”

Sergeant Martin shifts on his seat. “Hey, Cobb. Shut up. It’s boring, okay?”

“Taking his side, Johnny?”

“Both of you–” Kat tries to interrupt.

“Shut up, Kat.”

A pin could drop three floors above them and everyone would hear it. Bucky’s jaw clenches tight, and he registers Buck entering the room behind him, footsteps quiet, clearly having overheard the entire thing.

Kat doesn’t look angry. She looks… sad? It makes Bucky wonder what happened to Cobb before he got to this point. Bucky knows the toll watching your friends die and feeling hopeless can take. He knows it doesn’t take much to reach a point you can’t come back from.

“Watch your mouth.” Liebgott fires back, taking half a step forward before Kat puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Sarge, they’re on their way in.” A voice from the doorway says, and Buck and Bucky move out of the way as Captain Winters and Speirs enter the room. They step out, not wanting to intrude more than they already have, but not before Malarkey hands them the promised cups of coffee that have been percolating for the last few minutes.

Bucky nods his thanks, and settles in a ripped up armchair across from Buck.

“Was hoping to get an update, but sounds like they might be in for another bad night.” Bucky says, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It’s not real coffee, but it’s warm, and he feels better almost instantly.

“What was all that about?”

Bucky shakes his head. “They’re– everyone’s tired.”

“He went after Kat.” Gale quirks a brow. “Doesn’t seem like that happens too often.”

“She held her own just fine.” Bucky says, smirking. “Besides, how many times have you had to stop me mouthing off like that? After all this shit… surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.”

They both stop for a second, savoring their coffee and trying to pretend they’re not eavesdropping.

“... I want you all to get a full night’s sleep tonight.” Captain Winters says, and the following silence is loud. Bucky’s eyebrows raise. “In the morning, you will report to me that you made it across the river into German lines, but were unable to secure any live prisoners. Understand?”

“I’ll be damned.” Buck whispers.

Everyone streams out, fresh smiles on their faces. It’s contagious, and Bucky stands when Winters greets him, leans in to shake his hand.

“Not a word, Major.”

“Of course.”

Speirs stops in front of them, and even he has upturned lips on his normally stoic face. Kat trails a few steps behind. Bucky can see it now, the way it seems like they’re extremely aware of the other one’s presence, like two magnets being drawn together, but trying to keep it quiet.

“Majors.” He says quietly. “Got an ETA on the transport to get you out of here. Tomorrow morning we’ll get you on a jeep to the hospital, and a ticket back to Thorpe Abbotts.”

Tomorrow.

It feels impossible. Buck’s hands are on his hips as he looks at the ground, a small smile growing on his face. Bucky imagines he looks the same way.

“Christ.” Bucky grins, throwing his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Home.”

“Then we do whatever we can to bring our boys home with us.” Buck says firmly, eyes on his friend.

“They won’t let us fly–”

“I’m getting back behind that stick, John.”

Bucky nods. There’s no talking Gale out of something once he makes up his mind. And the scariest part is that Bucky knows he’ll be right there in the seat next to him if it comes down to it.

“Major Cleven,” Kat says, and she looks hesitant to interrupt. “I appreciate your ambition, but please take the time you need to fully recover.” She looks between them. “Both of you. Please.”

“Only if you do the same,” Buck says with a raised eyebrow, though his smile is assuring. “Heard you coughing all night.”

Bucky has forgotten that Speirs is still there leaning against a table in the corner, but sees him straighten out of the corner of his eye. He bites back a smile.

“Who is the medic here?” Kat asks archly.

Gale holds up his hands in surrender. “Just making sure you take your own advice.”

“You’re not the only one,” Speirs says quietly, but he too has an easy smile on his face, and with the way Kat double takes, it seems she’s just as surprised as the rest of them. “It should be a quiet night. We’ll get some chow and then get you both ready to go. Kat?”

“With you in a second,” she says, and watches as he leaves. She turns back to Buck and Bucky. “You heard Captain Winters, boys. A full night’s sleep is in order.” She crosses her arms over her chest, sending them a wry smile. “Is it weird that I’ll miss you both a little bit?”

“Don’t let tall, dark, and brooding over there hear you say that.” Bucky says quietly, an amused grin quirking the corners of his mouth.

Kat’s eyes widen. “Bucky! You can’t—”

“Jesus Christ.” Buck whispers, but he laughs too.

“I’m just teasing you. But seriously, Kat– you might not notice the way he looks at you, but I’ve only been here for two days and I can see it. Hell, every guy in there cares about you.” He gestures towards the nearly-empty room behind them. “You should hang on to that.” His voice is suddenly serious, and it makes Kat frown.

There’s so much she doesn’t know about what he’s been through in the last few months. There’s so much he doesn’t know about her. But they both know the toll war can take. They both know how easy it is to lose themselves in the horror of it.

“Can we do anything today to help?” Buck asks, trying to break the suddenly pensive mood, and Kat nods.

“If you’re up for it. We can find something.”

Hours later, they come back from helping Kat at the aid station feeling… dare Bucky say, fulfilled? He talked to so many guys, helped the ones who weren’t able write letters home to their parents and girls, and it gave him that bit of himself back, the piece he’s been trying to rediscover since he went down.

Mealtime is more subdued, but in a contented way that he hasn’t experienced in months. He’s still getting used to having halfway decent food to eat. Buck seems to be soaking it all in too - his quiet conversation with Welsh producing a few laughs and the sight of a smile on his best friend’s face gives him a little bit of hope that maybe they’re both going to be okay at the end of all of this.

The next morning they’re awoken by the sound of artillery in the distance. It’s not close enough to be alarmed, but Bucky was hoping for a quiet morning so they could make their getaway in peace.

He’s not really worried about anything else happening at this point, but they’re so close to enemy lines. That nagging thought in the back of his brain won’t fully go away, and probably won’t until he’s back on British soil again.

A knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts, and he straightens fully, finishing buttoning his shirt.

“Morning.” Kat says, looking tired, but happy. “We’re moving out soon. Time to go.”

Bucky nods. “Be down in a minute.”

They have nothing with them, he or Buck, so it doesn’t take them long to get ready. Downstairs in the CP, they’re greeted by the full cadre of officers.

“Good morning, majors.” Captain Winters says, saluting them as they enter. “We’ve got a transport for you back to the field hospital. You’ll link up there with the Red Cross, and then it’s an evacuation flight back to England.”

They say their goodbyes, and Bucky feels the melancholy mood settling in, even though he’s relieved to be on his way. He and Buck head outside with Kat and Doc Roe meets them at the truck.

“They’ll probably want to evaluate you again when you get to the hospital, but it should be quick.” He shakes both their hands, and then excuses himself, leaving them alone with Kat.

“I guess this is it,” Kat says, and Bucky and Buck share a look. She has no idea she’s echoing a conversation they had with each other years ago, but it makes them both smile, memories of an easier time when they had no idea what was coming next washing over them.

“Thank you, Kat.” Buck says, voice quiet and contemplative.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Kat says quietly. “I’m just happy you’re both okay and going home.”

Bucky shuffles his feet, unsure how to properly put into words what these few days with Easy Company have done for him and Buck both. Obviously the alternative could have been the end for both of them, but the universe putting them back in Kat Gray’s orbit still seems too good to be true.

“You take care of yourself.” Bucky says roughly, pointing at her.

“That’s my line.” Kat says, before closing the distance to reach for his hand, squeezing tight.

He returns the contact, unexpectedly feeling his throat getting thick. “You’ve got a good thing going here, Gray. Don’t do anything stupid, understand?”

“The same goes for you, Bucky.” She frowns. “I don’t like the idea of either of you flying again.”

Bucky shakes his head. “It’s a rule - downed pilots don’t get back in the seat. Buck just does best when he can lead. He’ll be itching to do something.”

“And you?”

Bucky smiles ruefully. “I really don’t know what the hell I want, Kat.” For this damned war to be over, he thinks.

“Kat, time to go.” A voice off to the side calls, and both she and Bucky turn to make eye contact with Captain Nixon.

“Coming.”

“Go on,” Bucky says. “Be safe.”

“You too, sir.”

Kat salutes him, which he still finds incredibly uncomfortable, but he returns it dutifully, smiling softly at her. He watches her walk over to Nixon, who hands her a pack that’s been sitting by his feet, and he can see the moment her posture changes and she prepares herself for whatever’s coming next.

“Train’s leaving the station, John.” Buck drawls.

Bucky turns to his friend and takes his offered hand as Buck hauls him into the back of the transport truck. The engine starts, and Bucky takes a minute to say a quiet prayer for Easy Company as they grow smaller in the distance, hoping that better things on the horizon are coming for all of them.

#band of brothers fanfiction #mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan x oc #gale cleven x oc #i have been chewing on this for weeks so i'm just going to post it #otherwise i never will #i am not super happy with the ending #but i hope this scratches an itch for some of you!!!#softspeirs band of brothers fanfiction #softspeirs mota fanfiction #oc: kat gray

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writeforfandoms · 1 year ago

Text

The Little Things Give You Away

Find my CoD Masterlist

You've been with the 141 for a little while now, part of the team but not part of the pack. A mission to Urzikstan changes that.

Warnings: Feelings of inadequacy, canon typical violence, non descriptive violence, shifter etiquette, swearing.

Word count: 5.4k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader (fennec fox shifter), with background Alex x Farah

You’d been with the 141 for a few months now, after tons of work and a few test runs. You meshed well with their skill sets, your long fuse and medical training giving you an advantage over other hopefuls. By now, you’d run ops with all of them, as a large group and in smaller groups. You knew these men, trusted them on the field.

But that trust still only went so far. You still didn’t feel like part of the pack.

It took time, you knew. You’d integrated into other packs before. Part and parcel of this kind of life - you’d already been in half a dozen packs. (Which was perhaps a high number but you got along well with people. You didn’t think that was a fault.)

So you had a job you loved, with men you trusted and respected. And a pack that kept you at arms length.

One of these things was not like the others.

You managed. You did the best you could, which was still pretty damn good. And that was enough.

Getting called to the briefing room was nothing new, and you sat a couple seats away from Gaz and Soap.

"Got a call from an old friend," Price said as he walked up the front of the room. "So we're gonna go help out. Off the books."

"Where are we going?" Gaz asked, looking interested.

"Urzikstan."

Gaz lit up, but Soap and Ghost didn't. Well. At least you weren't the only one who didn't know what was going on.

"Weapons will be provided once we get there," Price said. "Pack light, our ride will be here in an hour. Dismissed."

You stood and let the others go first. You didn't have too much you had to do, after all. Just throw some necessities in a bag.

"Question, sergeant?"

The voice of your captain and alpha broke you out of your thoughts, and you shook your head. "No, sir."

Price eyed you for a moment before he nodded. "Best hurry," he advised quietly.

You tipped your head in acknowledgement and walked faster, turning down a different corridor. Your quarters were a little bit away from the rest of the pack.

Which was fine. It was fine.

True to your prediction, you threw things in a bag and carried it out to the heli pad, and ended up being the first one there. You debated shifting, but knew you'd catch shit if anyone else saw you. So you sat down and pulled a book out of your bag, settling in to wait.

"Good book?" Gaz stood over you, his own bag slung over his shoulder.

"So far," you agreed, craning your neck back to look up at him. "Sounded like you know where we're going."

"I know which old friend, at least." Gaz shrugged, taking a step back so you could get to your feet. "You'll like her."

Your eyebrows shot up. Her? Well then. This would be interesting.

"Hurry up, wee menace!" Soap called as he passed the two of you. You immediately scowled after him. You hated that nickname and the whole team knew it.

"One of these days," you muttered.

"Only if you can catch him," Gaz pointed out with a grin. When you turned your withering stare to him, he held up his hands, laughing. "Was just a joke, love!"

You huffed and turned away from him, ignoring his soft groan. The walk out to the heli was short, and you buckled in silently. Gaz sat across from you, trying to catch your eye, and you relented somewhat. Enough to smile at him.

The flight was long and boring. The pilot, Nikolai, was a cheery man who occasionally told jokes over the headsets. Price sat up near him.

When you finally landed, Urzikstan was hot and dry. Nothing too unusual for the region. Part of you luxuriated in the heat, wanting to shift and stretch out.

But you didn't, falling in at the end of the line. The sandy tarmac crunched a little under your boots.

"You still know how to make an entrance," an American voice drawled. You blinked.

"Alex!" Gaz jogged forward, clearly excited.

"He's not wrong," a woman added. You finally got up to where you could see too. The man, Alex, stood next to the woman, both of them looking pleased.

"You're one to speak," Price said, holding out his hand. "You both know Gaz. These are the rest of my team." He introduced Soap, Ghost, and then you. Of course you were last. As usual. “These are Farah and Alex.”

You nodded to the pair, watching them. Hopefully you’d get some answers soon. You were starting to feel antsy.

“This way.” Farah took the lead, Price falling in next to her. Gaz stuck with Alex, and of course Soap and Ghost were together. You trudged after them, taking a few moments to look around.

Farah didn’t speak again until you were all inside, a little bit pressed together. The room was probably not really meant for five men as big as them.

“We’ve had problems with the Russians again,” she said, glancing meaningfully at Price.

“Who?” He frowned down at the map.

“A lieutenant of a man named Makarov.”

You straightened, feeling the tension in the room ratchet as your teammates did the same.

“One of his lieutenants, huh?” Price mused, leaning a little closer to the map. “Show me.”

Farah went over what she could, showing where the Russians had come from and what territory they’d claimed. It wasn’t much, yet, but she was rightfully worried about them taking more.

“We will need to do recon, but I can do that.” Farah shot Alex a quelling look.

Alex huffed softly. “Be better if you didn’t have to do it alone.”

“Nobody notices a cat,” Farah pointed out, half gentle, half exasperated, the tone of an old argument.

“I can go,” you offered, barely glancing at Price for permission. “I’ll blend right in.”

Price hesitated only a moment before he nodded. “Fennec fox,” he said to Farah’s questioning look.

Farah nodded, pleased. “We have time. We should learn each other’s scents now.”

You grinned, immediately stripping off your tac vest. Ignoring the noise of protest from Gaz, you dumped your vest and boots off to the side and shifted.

It was easy to wiggle out of your clothes as a fox. You were, you had to admit, pretty tiny, weighing only three pounds. Your ears swiveled, taking in all the sounds around you (you were pretty sure you heard a quickly stifled “aww” from Alex) before you yipped, once.

“Enough of that,” Price grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. You huffed at him, uncowed, and took a few steps back and forth.

Farah, when she emerged from Alex’s other side, was a cat. A sand cat. Also nearly perfectly suited to blend in with the sand, and very close to your size. But with smaller ears. You perked up, tail wagging as you crept forward. It had been a long, long time since you’d had anyone properly sized to play with. Farah’s nose twitched and she stepped closer to you, giving you both a chance to familiarize yourself with the other’s scent.

And then you carefully bopped her on the nose.

She reared back, looking startled, ears flickering. You readied yourself to roll over in apology, until her tail flicked and she bopped you right back. You yipped, high and pleased, and bounced at her before racing away.

You weren’t sure exactly how long the two of you played tag, but it was long enough that you were thoroughly worn out. You’d seen multiple buildings, wound your way between at least half a dozen people (not including your own pack), and had even stumped her twice. All in all, you’d say that was a pretty good showing.

Until one big hand scooped you up. You squeaked, resisting the urge to bite when you sniffed the hand. Gaz.

“Not leaving until tomorrow,” Gaz told you quietly, holding you close to his chest. You were still a little mad that he could hold you with one big hand, but, well… Being so small was to your advantage sometimes. “Food, then relaxing for a bit. Price’s orders.”

You huffed a little in acknowledgement, settling against him. Of your four packmates, he was the most conscientious about holding you, with Price as a close second. You didn’t even let Soap pick you up anymore.

You did shift back to eat, not quite surprised when Farah ended up next to you, and Alex on her other side.

“I have not seen a fox shifter in a long time,” Farah said, glancing at you.

You smiled. “I’m the only fennec in my family,” you admitted. “Which is okay! Not like any of us are too big.”

Farah nodded knowingly while Alex just blinked at you.

“How long have you been with the 141?” She nudged Alex into eating. Aww. Adorable.

“Few months.” You shrugged, pushing your food around your plate. You were hungry but not - the food looked good but sometimes making yourself actually eat was harder. You had protein bars stashed in your bag for this very reason.

She glanced between you and them. The rest of the pack had all settled around, not quite including you. Which didn’t bother you as much as it probably should. You could see the wheels turning in her head and shook your head a little. It wasn’t worth asking them.

“So, how’d you end up here?” You looked at Alex with an easy smile.

Dinner passed easily with the two of them, exchanging stories. You had a few of your own, including a few pranks you’d pulled off when you were younger. Sometimes being small had its advantages.

But when Price called your name, you still straightened and looked his way.

“Finish up,” he ordered, nodding to your plate. Dammit. You’d hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Then lights out, since you’re scouting tomorrow.”

“Yes sir,” you muttered, only a little sulky. You were quick to finish off your plate, even as Farah excused herself to talk to Price.

“Sure you’re alright?” Alex asked very softly, giving you a quick look over. “Just, I’ve seen packs before, not just here but all over. They’re normally…”

“Tighter?” you asked with a wry little smile, carefully keeping your voice low enough that the pack couldn’t hear you. “Yeah. I know.”

He eyed you carefully, gaze flicking over to where Farah and Price were talking. “Well, if you need anything, you let us know.”

Warmed by the unexpected offer, your smile softened. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” You nodded to him, and his lips quirked in return. You stood to put your dishes on the pile and retire for the night, per orders.

“Everything alright?” Gaz asked, catching up to you easily, almost touching you.

“Yeah, fine,” you were quick to assure him. “Which one’s ours?”

“Here.” He guided you to the room the pack had been given. Quarters were tight, you understood. Was far from the first time you’d be sharing with them. “You sure you’re alright?”

Your smile definitely felt frayed. “Why do people keep asking me that?” you mused, not quite expecting an answer. “Do I have some cosmic sign above my head?”

“No, just–” Gaz cut himself off with a sigh, shoulders slumping. “Checking, I guess. I know it’s easy to feel on the outside of things.”

You paused in the middle of taking your boots off, looking at him. For a wild moment, you wondered if he’d heard you talking to Alex. Then you shook it off. “It’s fine,” you said, looking back at your boots. “Not a big deal. Temporary additions are like that, I get it.”

“Temporary?” Gaz’s jaw dropped, distress leaking into his scent.

“Yeah?” You frowned at him.

“Who told you this was temporary?” He even sounded distressed now, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

You blinked. “My last CO,” you answered slowly, only a little uncertain now, even as you grabbed your sleeping bag. “Nobody said anything, so I figured–”

“That you were replaceable.” His eyes had gone wide now too.

You shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Fuck.” He dropped his head. “You… fuck.”

“Hey, it’s fine, I get it.” You shot him a grin, easygoing and a little mischievous. “Foxes aren’t easy to be around for everybody.”

Gaz looked at you like you weren’t speaking the same language. "You think we care about that?"

You shrugged. "Who doesn't?" You shook your sleeping bag out and double checked that your stuff was as out of the way as you could get it. "It's not a big deal, Gaz."

His jaw clenched, distress still in his scent, but something else was overpowering it now. Some odd combination of anger and determination. "Think there's been a misunderstanding," he said slowly, looking at you.

You shrugged, wiggling into your sleeping bag. "Look, it's fine. Stop worrying about it. I'm here to do a job, same as you lot. Just leave it."

He did not look like he would leave it, but he did turn and walk out, letting you finally settle down to sleep.

Or at least to lay there with your eyes closed, trying to turn off your brain.

You woke briefly when the rest of the pack trooped in, but Price touched the top of your head. "Just us," he murmured, low and almost gentle. "Go back to sleep."

You blinked slowly at him before you nodded, closing your eyes again and curling up. You'd be less of a bother if you took up less space, so you tried to take as little as possible.

There was a soft but brief conversation behind you. You tried to tune them out, letting your eyes close and tucking your nose down again to block out errant scents.

You were asleep before the pack had finished settling in.

You woke first, slipping out of bed as quietly as possible and taking a moment to look at the pack. Soap and Ghost were curled together, Soap shamelessly using Ghost's bicep as a pillow. Price was between them and Gaz, stretched out and breathing deeply in sleep. Gaz… Gaz was on his side facing where you had been, a little furrow in his brow, looking faintly uncomfortable.

You resisted the urge to check on him, to crouch next to him and touch him. You wouldn't be welcomed, anyway. So you turned away and went in search of a warm drink.

Damn Gaz for making you wonder about your place in this pack.

You had some nice quiet time before the rest of the pack got up, and then it was mission time. You got ready silently, taking as little as possible. One of your teammates would hold your stuff while you were scouting, you knew.

But you didn't want to burden them further.

"Woke early?"

You nearly jumped at the voice of your captain behind you, and you turned to look at him. "Yes, sir."

He nodded, making tea and then sitting next to you, close enough that your knees touched. You eyed him for a moment, uncertain. Price was not exactly the most touchy-feely alpha, although you'd seen him touch the others plenty of times.

"After this mission, I think we need to have a talk, hm?" He tipped his head to look at you, eyes very blue for the brief look you allowed yourself before your gaze dropped to the table.

"Yes, sir," you agreed softly, heart plummeting. Well. Months was not a bad run in a pack. Better than your personal low of three weeks! You'd be fine. Everything would be fine.

"Nothing bad," he assured you, because of course he did. He didn't want you distracted on mission. "Just clarifying some things."

"I understand." And you did. Foxes weren't good for a lot beyond scouting and recall, after all.

He nodded once, firm, and turned his attention back to his tea. You swallowed the last of your drink and slunk away quietly.

You needed to get your head on straight and stuff your feelings back in the little box to be examined never.

By the time you all gathered, you were ready, bouncing lightly on your toes. Gaz stood next to you, bumping into you lightly.

"We've got two forward teams," Price said without preamble. "Soap, Ghost, you're with Farah and Alex. You two are with me. Farah's people will provide backup once we've got our intel."

You nodded. No surprises there.

"We will need to look for numbers, locations, entrances," Farah told you. "Weapons."

You nodded again. "Got it."

"Right. Let's get on it, then." Price smirked, jerking his head to the waiting cars.

The drive out into the desert was quiet but for the roar of the engine. Gaz kept shooting you little looks, and you clenched your jaw.

He must have talked to Price. Maybe he'd talked about your position on the team… or lack thereof.

You couldn't help the niggling doubt that this talk Price wanted to have would end with you off the team and out of the pack.

You breathed in deep and shoved it back down. You needed to focus. You needed to be clear headed. So you could report accurate information.

The car stopped, and the two groups got out and moved up. Farah's group split off, and Price led you and Gaz away.

He halted and turned to look at you, one eyebrow raised. You hunkered down, stripping off your vest. Shifting took no time, and you stretched out.

"Ready?" He asked you softly. You resisted the urge to yip, instead stretching out your front legs and then bouncing in place. "Alright. You report right back to me."

You bounced again and took off, weaving through the sandy landscape easily. You blended in perfectly, your ears flickering.

Honestly, this kind of work wasn't hard. A former assignment had had you doing this near daily for a month to keep an eye on a high value target.

You could always do more of this after Price ousted you from the pack.

Huffing at yourself, you slowed as you approached the enemy base. Okay. Time to work.

You made sure to take thorough mental notes before you crossed paths with Farah. She flicked her ears at you, tail twitching. You bobbed your head carefully. She mrrped very softly and gently headbutted you before she turned and headed back to her group. You did the same.

You shifted back and Gaz hovered until you had your vest back on. You spoke while you dressed, being sure to speak clearly and as concisely as you could.

Price nodded. "Well done," he murmured. "Right. Follow me."

You shoved down the little thrill at the praise from your alpha (for however much longer that lasted) and nodded.

The op was… not easy. Never easy. But you all made an excellent battering ram, clearing enough enemies off the field for Farah's people to make good headway.

Price even managed to take the lieutenant alive, something that left him very pleased.

You stood off to the side after the dust settled, watching the celebrating with a little smile.

"Get over there and join in." Alex stopped next to you, nudging you a little towards Farah.

"Maybe in a bit." You shrugged, trying not to fidget anxiously.

"Hey." Alex frowned, ducking his head a little. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just… I'm fine." You shrugged again, fingers tapping against your vest in a restless pattern.

Alex didn't get a chance to ask further. Soap threw his arm over your shoulders, pressed up tight to your side, while Ghost's hand landed heavy on top of your head.

"There ye are!" Soap crowed, giving you a little shake. "Finally! Been hidin' from us?"

"What?" You blinked, caught off-guard. "No, I just–"

"Come on." Ghost tapped the top of your head and let his hand fall again.

Alex grinned, looking far too pleased as Soap dragged you away. You didn't fight it, too confused to even object.

"Found her?" Price asked, amused.

"Aye, Cap." Soap pulled you in front of the captain, grinning, before he finally let you go. You couldn't entirely shove down the slow curl of dread in your stomach.

"Have you eaten yet?” Price was once again focused on you.

“No,” you admitted slowly. “Figured I’d eat in a while.”

“Gaz told me you assumed this was a temporary position.”

You did not falter, because you’d been expecting this all day. “Yes, sir.”

“Your last CO?” Price’s head tipped, just a little. The kind of mild curiosity that you didn’t believe for a second.

“Yes.” You clenched your jaw, trying hard to be very still.

“He was wrong.” Price took one step forward, just barely in your space.

You blinked rapidly, confused. “...What do you mean?” You felt slow, like you were missing something that should be obvious.

“Means yer pack, ye dafty!” Soap piped up, and then yelped when someone slapped a hand over his mouth.

“It means you’re ours,” Price reiterated, not even sparing Soap a look. “I never intended you to be temporary.”

“Oh.” You blinked again, flabbergasted. “You… did?”

Price huffed softly, his hands landing on your shoulders and pulling you in, slow but sure, until he was properly hugging you. You melted. You’d been so sure you wouldn’t have this–

“You’re pack,” he rumbled quietly, just for you. “Until you tell me otherwise.”

You hid your grin in the hug. “You’ll be waiting a long time for that, sir.”

Price huffed, amused, and released you. Only for Soap to tackle you from behind, obnoxiously rubbing his head on top of yours and ignoring your yelled protests. Price just watched, not moving to help you.

Gaz came to your rescue, because he was the best.

“Shove off,” Gaz grumbled, helping free you from Soap’s grasp and instead wrapping his own arm over your shoulder. “C’mon, you need to eat.”

“Have you always been this fussy?” you asked, amused more than anything, letting him steer you to a table. “And just repressing it?”

“No,” Gaz tried to deny at the same time Price said, completely deadpan, “Yes.”

You sputtered a laugh, shaking your head even as you sat. But you didn’t have a chance to grab food - Gaz beat you to it, loading a plate for you and putting it in front of you. You blinked. That… that was new. And very interesting.

Even more interesting was him claiming the spot right next to you, sitting close enough that your thigh pressed against his.

But he didn’t say anything, so you didn’t either, just focusing on your food. You ignored Soap snickering about something with the ease of long practice. He was always a menace.

The celebration lasted well into the night. Soap pulled you into a few dances, Gaz kept you supplied with drinks and snacks, and Ghost silently watched over all three of you with little huffs of amusement. Price stayed for a little while before he slipped away to do work.

You honestly weren’t sure what time it was when you finally begged off to go sleep, but you did know that Gaz followed you back to the room you were all sharing.

“Think we’ll head out tomorrow?” you asked sleepily, dropping your boots next to your pack.

Gaz shrugged. “Depends how long it takes Price to get what he wants,” he murmured, sounding only slightly more alert than you.

“Leave packing for the morning, then.” You dropped down into your spot, curling up again without even waiting for confirmation.

“Good plan,” Gaz agreed, settling next to you. He didn’t quite touch you, but he did settle close enough that you could feel the warmth of him.

You woke to him curled around your back, his breath puffing softly on the back of your neck. You blinked sleepily, tempted for a few moments to just go back to sleep.

Until the position you were in actually sank in. Then you very carefully extricated yourself, praying your pounding heart didn’t wake him.

That… that was odd. And new. And a little bit terrifying, honestly. Because you liked Gaz, you’d always liked Gaz, even when he poked fun at you. You’d always forgiven him the fastest for the teasing.

So to wake up to him like that? Made you want things you shouldn’t want.

But you escaped without incident and went to find some food.

Somehow, you weren’t surprised when Farah stopped next to you, Alex behind her. “Come with me,” she said.

You didn’t even question her, just got to your feet and followed her. “Do I need to grab anything?”

Farah shook her head. “I’ve already told Price,” she said, glancing back at you over her shoulder. “We are not going far.”

Well, that wasn’t quite as reassuring as she thought it was, but you didn’t question her. You just followed her and Alex to a car.

“We will be scouting,” Farah told you as Alex drove. “Look for any sign of escaped Russians, or reinforcements.”

“Can do.” You sat up a little straighter, calmer now that you knew the mission. This wouldn’t be bad. Not bad at all.

You and Farah both shifted in the car and Alex opened the doors to let you out. Farah went one way, and you went another.

The base was large, spread out, but the two of you covered the ground easily. But everything was quiet, to your relief. You didn’t doubt that the Russians would hear of this, and they might retaliate. Possibly.

If they had the resources and decided this was a high value enough target.

You kind of hoped they just gave up. These poor people deserved some peace and quiet.

You passed Farah, darting over to greet her and sniff her face before you continued on your way. You just wanted to check one more area, just to be sure, and then you’d head back.

But you got lucky. No sign of life out here. (Apart from the little lizard you chased off.)

You trotted back to the car, enjoying the little buzz of a job well done. Farah was already back, sitting on Alex’s shoulder with one of his hands on her back to help stabilize her.

Aww. They were adorable. (And also making the ache in your soul much worse.)

You hopped into the back seat and shifted back, pulling your clothes on again. Alex didn’t get in until you were finished shifting, and even then, Farah just sat in the passenger seat very regally.

“All clear,” you said, and Farrah chirped her agreement.

“Good.” Alex started driving. “Thanks for the assist.”

“No problem.” You grinned. “Always a joy to go out for a run.”

Alex glanced at you in the rearview mirror. “Especially with someone your own size?”

You laughed, leaning back more in your seat. “Pretty much.”

Alex nodded. “Farah said something about that too,” he admitted, glancing at the cat next to him. She just huffed but didn’t actually object or bat at him. So clearly he was fine. “What do you do with your pack?”

“What, in terms of running?” You snorted, shaking your head. “I don’t. Not shifted, anyway. I can’t keep up.”

“So you and Gaz don’t…?” Alex trailed off.

You blinked. “I mean. Not really. Sometimes he trots after me, but we really can’t go running together.”

“He trots after you?” Alex grinned. “Boy’s got it bad.”

You blinked again, startled. “What?”

“Following you around. Saw him make you a plate last night, too.” Alex’s grin was mischievous. “Farah does that for me, sometimes. Confused the hell outta me the first couple times, until she explained.”

“Until she explained,” you repeated slowly. Because. He was wrong. There was no way Gaz had been… Had been…

“Yeah,” Alex said slowly, glancing at you in the mirror again. “She said it’s pretty typical behavior for shifters.”

“For courting, yeah,” you agreed, still speaking slowly. “But you’re wrong about Gaz.”

Farah actually turned around to look at you, giving you the most disbelieving look you’d ever seen on a cat. Alex gave you a matching look, which would have been hysterical under other circumstances.

“He’s been flirting with you literally the entire time you’ve been here,” Alex pointed out.

And you were about to deny that. You really were.

Except.

He’d been the one to follow you and check on you. He’d held on to your stuff while you’d been scouting. He’d made you a plate and made sure you ate.

Oh. Shit.

Ohhhh shit.

“Alright there?” Alex was not teasing any longer, concerned now.

“Yeah,” you muttered almost automatically. “Fine.”

Farah growled, low and short, expressing her disagreement with that. But she didn’t have a chance to do more - the car stopped.

Without a second thought, you popped your door open and shifted, slipping easily out of your clothes and running.

You didn’t want to be around people while you went over all the instances suddenly coming into startling clarity.

Gaz had been trying to court you. For weeks. He’d been subtle about it at first, just walking with you, or making sure he was the one to pick you up.

But dinner really cemented it. Sitting so close to you, fussing over your food like that… That was courting behavior, undoubtedly.

It was too much all at once.

You found a good space under a cluster of rocks right at the edge of base, burrowing under them and curling up.

Gaz had been trying to court you for weeks, and you were an absolute dumbass who hadn’t noticed. You covered your eyes with your tail.

A soft whine caught your attention some indeterminable amount of time later. You blinked and moved your tail to find Gaz as a wolf with his nose trying to get into your hiding spot. He whined softly again, and you could just see one paw scratching at the rocks.

You huffed and crawled towards him, pushing your body against his snout. He withdrew, backing up a step to give you plenty of room. You tucked your ears down and wiggled out of your hiding spot, shaking briefly to get rid of any lingering sand.

Gaz laid down in front of you, eyes big and pleading, tail wagging hopefully.

You cocked your head to one side, one ear up one down.

He huffed and wiggled a tiny bit closer to you, tail wagging a little harder. His tongue darted out for a quick kiss to your muzzle.

Oh. That. He must have talked to Alex or Farah.

You eyed him for a moment before you took one step closer, until you were right in front of him. If this were anyone else, it would be a little scary just how much bigger he was than you. But this was Gaz.

You weren’t scared.

You licked his nose. And when his eyes absolutely lit up, tail wagging so hard he was practically causing a sand storm behind him, you licked his nose again.

He hopped to his feet to nuzzle you, exceedingly careful. You huffed at him and started back towards the pack room, since you did want to have an actual conversation. Gaz, to your surprise, kept pace with you. Which meant you were trotting while he was walking leisurely.

Stupid long-legged wolf.

Soap got one look at you and whooped. “Took ye fuckin’ long enough!” he crowed.

Your ears flattened to your head and Gaz snapped at Soap with a low warning growl. Soap completely ignored the warning, starting to tease you two. And promptly ended up with a wolf tackling him.

You ignored the mess as the two of them rolled around, growling and snarking. Instead you went to the door and then sat and yipped at Price to open the door for you.

“Fuckin’ muppets,” Price muttered about the other two, scooping you up in one big hand. You yipped at him again and he huffed back. “Hush. We’ll talk while they figure shit out.” The door shut behind him. But you still weren’t scared.

You believed him when he called you pack. And if this was part of being his pack… You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #f!reader #shifter au

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hrhmimieucliffe · 5 months ago

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⚠️⚠️Another Mimi Rant Incoming (ik, not again) ⚠️⚠️

Love and Deepspace.

I love the game. I've met so many kind and wonderful people within this fandom. But no fandom is without its problems.

If you know me, you know what my page is all about and how I advocate for the inclusion of more Black women in different fandom spaces and consumable media. We are often either forgotten about, used as comedic relief, stereotypes, or as an antagonist who is loud, bitter, has an attitude, etc.

Cool, fine, whatever, over it.

But one thing I will address is the fact that some people in the LADS fandom seem to have forgotten one major thing about the game. Pertaining to the MC.

SHE IS FULLY CUSTOMIZABLE AND DOES NOT HAVE A CANON APPEARANCE.

Yes, I'm aware the devs use a 'base' look for her on some of the cards and in the previews of new battle mechanics/ five-star kindled scenes. But they're not how she canonically looks. She looks that way because Infold is an eastern based company with certain beauty standards, cool, not asking you to suddenly change her. I'm cool with that.

But people in the FANDOM seem to be forgetting that you can customize her yourself. Into an OC or a self insert, it doesn't matter.

So if you know this, why is it that people with a tan or dark MC receive hate and harassment for making fanart of their self-insert MCs who look like the real them with the MLs?

Why is it that as non pale/fair skinned women, we are expected to always sit back and relate to a pale MC who has a personality that usually doesn't match some of us, either? If we can bear it for our entire lives, why is it a problem when we get a *small crumb* of inclusiveness in making the MC customizable to shape her how we want, it's not a problem until someone actually makes fanart of their MC with an ML and that MC is not the same pale/fair-skinned one?

How is that fair? It's like some people deliberately ignore it or are part of the problem. Especially those who make excuses like

"Oh, but they're not a western based company." I know that. Which is why I'm not aiming this rant at Infold themselves.

"Oh, don't bring politics into the game". First of all, how is the existence of dark or tan people politics? It's not "politics" when it involves someone who is part of the usual beauty standard, is it? Second of all, Infold themselves practically brought those said "politics" in by having tan/dark skinned options into the game in the first place.

Do you all see what I'm getting at, here?

This all came about because I'm part of (both) LADS subs on Reddit, and someone recently made a post about how they were attacked on Tiktok by LADS "fans" for her MC being dark in some *FANART* she made of her MC (based on herself) with her favourite ML.

Why can't we just have peace as women who don't conform to the outdated beauty standards? Why does it matter so much if MC is customizable?

What, do people think that as dark or Black women, we're not allowed to have certain interests? We're not allowed to like certain characters, games, movies, shows, etc? Why?

Wake UP and start calling it out when you see it!! You can't claim not to be a part of the "bad part" when you sit back and let it happen which makes those people get comfortable doing it.

Rant over. Have a nice day girls.

#love and deep space #love & deepspace #loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace mc #lnds #lnd #lads #love and deepspace rant #STOP #Another Mimi Rant #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace fanart #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne

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furst1ded · 10 months ago

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Thoughts on Shipping Alastor from an AroAce person

(this entire thing is copy and pasted excerpts from a Discord rant so if the grammar is funky, that's why, I just felt like giving my 2 cents on the topic)

Aroace people can still participate in romantic and sexual interactions. All being aro/ace/aroace means is you don't feel romantic/sexual attraction upon seeing other people. You can feel it later on or in waves or could never feel that attraction but still can participate and love others in a fulfilling way. Some aroace people are fine performing intimacy onto others but dislike reciprocation, others are the opposite where they're fine receiving but not giving. It's a spectrum.

The nuances of asexuality and aromanticism aside, you can be in a relationship without being in a relationship. Platonic relationships beyond friendship are a thing (QPRs for example). But like, I get it. Not everyone who ships Alastor keeps it confined to a QPR. And his character seems pretty sex-repulsed and romance-averse. But here's the other thing. He's fictional. As long as his character remains aroace in canon, fans taking the silly radio man and making him kiss the devil isn't taking away from aroace representation.

This next bit is coming from me as an AroAce person myself. I ship Alastor. I write/read him kissing people and fucking and acting romantic. And guess what? It's related to expressing my sexuality. Alastor is one of my favorite characters in anything ever and I love that there's a character that represents a facet of myself in a popular media. I relate to him so goddamn much and that's why I ship him. He's a fictional character I like that I project onto, so I use him as a way to navigate and explore romantic/sexual relationships that I'm never going to participate in myself. He's not real so I just puppet him around to live through vicariously in the scenarios I don't want to be a part of myself but find super interesting. It's not anything new, I do the same with my own characters in the stories I write them in, it's part of storytelling, I just use him for a specific type of story for a specfic part of myself.

It's not like we're hurting anybody by shipping him. We're not drastically effecting canon and making him an alloromantic. I've seen plenty of fics that ship him that either make it a QPR or they thoroughly explore the nuances of his asexuality and what subtype of sexuality he is and how he navigates it and I love those fics because they speak to me on a spiritual level. Grayromantic Alastor, demisexual alastor, sex-repulsed but romance-favorable Alastor, sex-repulsed and romance-averse Alastor in a one-sided ship fic, etc they're all so important to me because it helps me live out my own sexuality and romantic orientation and explore myself.

I get it. Not everyone is respectful. Not everyone feels the way I do and use characters in this way. It can suck seeing people just ignore his sexuality when asexuals and aromantics don't get much in terms of screen-time. But you can't control everybody and what work they put out. And trying to censor stuff like that does more harm than good. I just explained why fics involving Alastor are so important to me. They normalize QPRs and aroaces being in relationships. That's probably what pisses me off the fucking most. If we're not allowed to write about aroaces being in relationships or romantic/sexual situations, you put aroaces into a box. A box where every aroace is perceived as sexless and loveless, which just isn't true. A box where aroaces are prudes or infants who can't handle hearing the word "sex". It's just so frustrating. You can be mad at fics that expressly rewrite or stomp on his sexuality, sure. You can't stop them, but you can disapprove of them. But let the rest of us have our fun making the literal devil and TV head man have the hots for a man whose teeth are yellower than the sun, Jesus Christ.

TL;DR: asexuality is a spectrum, I'm aroace and use shipping as a way to explore and express myself and I know I'm not the only one, trying to suppress works where an Aroace character is seen participating in romance or sex can actually be harmful in that it promotes only one idea of what being aroace is, and at the end of the day the character I'm talking about doesn't even exist.

#sorry to flood the aro and ace tags with more hazbin stuff but I feel like what I said can be important to the community outside of hazbin #asexual representation #asexual #aromantic #aromantic asexual #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #radioapple #radiosilence #radiostatic #one sided radiostatic

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celerydays · 1 year ago

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Hi! I have been following you for some time and I notice you draw more and more Sebastian and Ominis doing stuff that makes me... uncomfortable.....

Sebastian and Ominis are best friends, why people are obsessed with drawing them into weird gay stuff? Seriously.... Why can't be friends.... without all Sebinis... Just stop it...

Normally I would delete messages or simply ignore the things that make me feel uncomfortable–

But, you're on anon and this is my ask inbox, so I can only assume you want an actual, public response. So alright. Fine.

Like I said: normally I would just remove odd, uncomfortable, or even outright rude messages without making a whole thing of it. I curate my own online experience and I try my best to live by that rule.

However, I've now gotten multiple unsolicited DMs over the course of a couple of months expressing the exact same sentiment (and nearly word-for-word as this ask, so I highly suspect I already know who you are). I have duly ignored or glossed over them hoping that the person/people would take the hint to simply stop engaging with the same message over and over again. But an anon ask is my last straw, I guess.

So if you are the same person as in my DMs, I'm finally giving you a response (and if you're not the same person – which I highly doubt – then I'm speaking to both of you).

Firstly, I want to say that I am sorry that your worldview is so limited that this is your stance and feelings on gay/queer ship content for Sebastian and Ominis.

Next, I ask that you please:

Don't make your homophobia anyone else's issue but your own. Don't come into DMs/ask inboxes/comments to make your discomfort with the content I create my problem. I don't know what you hoped to accomplish by sending this message but it's unlikely that you'll find the same feelings or sympathy from the person who is actively creating queer/sebinis content.

Curate your own online experience. Once again, do not make your content consumption anyone else's problem but your own. The "unfollow" button is there. Tumblr has a tag filtering system and I try to tag my art and content as accurately as possible. If you do not like something/it makes you uncomfortable, then do not continue to consume it. And if you still decide to stick around for whatever reason, then please keep your thoughts/opinions on this matter to yourself because I can promise that I don't actually care why you would continue to be here and looking at my art if it makes you unhappy.

Widen your worldview and try to reframe your perspective. Consider that Sebastian x Ominis is just as canon as Sebastian x f!MC or Ominis x f!MC. As much as we like to ship our various MCs with the canon characters, MC never actually amounts to canonically being confirmed as anything but being just friends with everyone. Using the "they are just best friends" / "why can't they just be portrayed only as friends" could literally be applied to just about any other non-canon/non-confirmed ship between friends regardless of gender. If even one of them, Ominis or Sebastian, was portrayed as cis female in canon, I would suspect that you would better "understand" why a ship between these two "friends" may exist. Then also consider a cis male MC; it's possible you may suddenly reframe all the interactions between Ominis x m!MC or Sebastian x m!MC in your head to be "totally platonic/friendly". Your issue is certainly not with their canon relationship vs. fandom portrayal (but I think we both know that).

Educate yourself. Go outside and meet and talk to people, I dunno. It is 2024 my dude. I don't even know how you're on Tumblr – the most queer-friendly social media site – with those kind of narrowed views and stigma.

I would like to finish by saying: I don't wish you the best. What I do wish is for you to learn, grow, and be better than this.

And also please stop sending me messages of this nature, because the next ask or DM I get like this, we're moving on to blocking at this point. And if your purpose was to get me to stop, I can tell you that these messages have only fueled the explicit sebinis smut maker in me. 😤

#I'm sorry for anyone who sees this and did not want a rant on their feed today #ask #anon #sebinis #hl

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writingwithcolor · 1 year ago

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Romani character portrayals in fanfiction

Rroma Dick Grayson, batman fanfiction

endoftheworldhere asked:

I wanted to write a fanfiction about what Dick Grayson’s life would have been like if he wasn’t adopted by Batman. It was going to have him dealing with the bad parts of Gotham City and interacting with various criminals and rouges, But I was worried that could come off as stereotypical or racist since he’s been portrayed as at least part Romani and I wanted to include some connections to his heritage as a way he clings his parents after they died so traumatically. Any advice?

The thing about Dick Greyson is that he was retconned into being part Romani, and the writers did so in a very stereotypical way. A lot of Romani people have talked about this, especially on Tumblr, and opinions do vary about how he should be written. Many think it’s best to ignore his “heritage” and just write him as white, while others disagree and think that his heritage is important representation and should be written, but more respectfully.

I honestly don’t know my personal opinion on this, but I will say that there is a huge stereotype about Romani people being criminals. If you do plan to write him as part Romani, make sure to avoid these tropes. Otherwise, I would just nix his Romani heritage.

-Mod Tess

Romani woman, curses and Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Anonymous asked:

I'm struggling a bit with a piece of fan work right now, and I was hoping you could weigh in. In Buffy season two, there's a character named Jenny, who we first meet as a techno-pagan computer science teacher, who helps Buffy and co deal with fighting demons and stuff. Only the thing is, she's Rromani. She's there to make sure a family curse stays on a vampire who killed someone beloved to them a century ago (mostly to protect people from him if Angel/Angelus gets uncursed), which everyone gets mad at her for not telling them when he loses his soul and goes on rampage. Ordinarily, it's not hard to write her, because until that arc, she's a fun character who happens to be a Rroma woman, and as other characters use magic, that doesn't stand out. But the whole curse thing, and the depiction of her family we're given, (and the way a canon redemption arc for Angelus I can't stand starts with him getting a soul as a punishment for killing a Rroma woman in 1898), and the everyone being mad about deception all just feels like many negative stereotypes. What would be your thoughts on depicting Jenny, and on what to keep in mind trying to rewrite how she was shown in the show. [Ask redacted for length]

Let me just start out by saying that I am not very familiar with Buffy, so thank you for the context. I think your best bet here would be to drop the curse plot line altogether, as that’s a huge stereotype about Romani people. I think it’s ok to have her do magic, as long as other characters also do, and although I do think the vampire stuff is also a stereotype (a lot of vampire lore is supposedly taken from some Romani folklore, and Romani people are often associated with vampires in pop culture), I think it’s fine given the context of the show.

-Mod Tess

#Romani #Romani women #Romani men #fanfiction #Romani stereotypes #Romani tropes #asks

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bullagit · 8 months ago

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honestly it's just funny to me when people are like "aziraphale had to be talked into even trying to save the earth blah blah blah" trying to make him out to be a Bad Person. meanwhile in canon it took like, 1.5 conversations and less than a day because he DID want to do it and jumped on the first feasible idea.

and then they conveniently ignore that he spends the rest of season one actively continuing to do everything in his power that he can think of to save the earth, despite every obstacle and despite CROWLEY actively saying they should give up on that and run away together instead

(which all these same people conveniently... never seem to mention or frame as crowley being a Bad Person. the same way they never seem to try to frame him calling aziraphale stupid or his little "i'm leaving forever and when i'm gone i'll never even THINK ABOUT YOU AGAIN" moment as him being a bad person, instead suddenly being much more willing to sympathize and give him the benefit of the doubt. hmm go figure).

like he literally tries to talk to GOD up close and personal to change her mind. he throws down his uniform, refuses the war, and goes AWOL back to earth determined to save it, even knowing that he's pretty much signing up to lose EVERYTHING that he's built on earth for himself, even thinking he possibly lost crowley already by pushing him away, like.

when satan is en route to the airbase, wouldn't you know, crowley is the one who says it's over we're fucked there's nothing we can do and aziraphale is the one who says no, we can't give up now after everything, and gives crowley the push he needs to buy them some time.

i'll never say he's a perfect uwu bean or that he always goes about things the right way but like, this weird thing (especially post s2) where people try to project some different character onto him just never goes over. he's not self-absorbed or callous or power-hungry or stupid or too naive or completely selfish. fundamentally.

also he wouldn't take angel crowley over modern crowley. he loves crowley in every capacity and every form and through every change and tbh like. he understands that those aren't actually two completely separate entities, and crowley is one person who's been through so much and had to change so much, and he loves all of him.

their relationship is not toxic or abusive. they understand each other in ways nobody else ever will. they push each other to be better and appreciate each other for everything that they are, that they have been, that they could be, and they continually choose to come back to each other no matter what fight they have or challenge they face.

every day i gotta get out here like you know you can just like the character crowley better... and relate to him more... without having to twist around to justify it as some moral superiority thing. like that's fine and normal, to just like a character better than a different character and focus on them more.

#good omens #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #long post #im simply tired of the takes i think like no sorry guys crowley doesnt ~deserve better~#no aziraphale doesnt need to suffer to ~deserve him~ and sob and beg and go through hell while crowley slams the door in his face #they broke up like TWICE in s1 after having big arguments and saying hurtful things to each other and crowley still like.#immediately went to try to save aziraphale when he thought he was in danger. they both love each other they both want each other safe #despite their differences in how to approach that and what it means (which will always come to a head a bit tbh)#(bc they are each others biggest priority and not themselves)#if there's anything to forgive about the final 15 crowley has done it already. it's past. he never wants az to suffer.#idk the end iguess

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hypexion · 12 days ago

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It's the end of the year. So that clearly means it's time to look at some Magic: The Gathering mechanics!

People have claimed that this year's sets have been too tropey, and moreso, that the mechanics themselves have a flavour that's too restrictive. As with many wide-ranging statements about Magic mechanics, all I can think is "Is that really true?". So let's have a look!

I'll be looking at new mechanics from six sets: the four Standard releases, along with the Fallout commander decks, and the Assassin's Creed miniset. How "reusable" the mechanics are will mostly be considered in terms of Standard sets, as supplemental sets have much looser flavour requirements, as they often draw from the entire Magic canon.

Murders at Karlov Manor

MKM is perhaps the set people are getting most up in arms about, to the point where they make ludicrous statements. No, this couldn't have been done on New Cappena, there are like a million issues with that idea. (But a new plane would have been fine since it wouldn't have all of SNC's baggage)

Disguise/Cloak - These two are variants on morph and manifest respectively, and the flavour is flexible, while being an accurate description of what the mechanics do. When you cast a spell for its disguise cost, you are literally disguising what it is. Cloak is a little less clean, but there's a similar conceptual throughline. While there's a little bit of baggage around why creatures (or other stuff) would be wearing disguises, it's still a pretty universal thing to be happening.

Cases - A new enchantment subtype with a condition to unlock additional abilities. The flavour is slightly restrictive here, but you can have a case outside of criminal investigations. Bloomburrow's use of the Class subtype also suggests that you can mostly ignore the subtype's flavour as long as the card name is evocative enough. Since a lot can be done with Cases, this is likely a situation where the flavour can be stretched in such a way, as opposed to other keywords and subtypes.

Collect Evidence - Now we're getting somewhere. Collecting evidence requires you to exile cards from your graveyard, which makes a lot of sense in terms of a murder investigation, but less so outside of one. The name is less of a problem, as like with Cases, collecting evidence isn't limited to crime solving. Still more restricted than the previous two, however. (Of course if it was just "Collect" it would be so open as to be usable anywhere.)

Suspect - Last and least for MKM is suspect. On its face, suspect is already quite restrictive, since you generally suspect people of doing crimes. Even in a slightly wider context, it's still tied into investigating implicitly bad things. But the specific mechanical implementation makes suspect incredibly clunky, as being suspected grants menace. So it somewhat implies that a suspect creature is suspected of doing something bad enough to make them scary.

Outlaws of Thunder Junction

In an attempt to avoid the problems with the Western genre, OTJ ended up being set on a world that's kind of weird and empty. Would a Thunder Junction Planeswalker's Guide helped things, or merely revealed that the plane is naught but a dusty canvas?

Mount + Saddle - A very open-ended subtype-mechanic pair, much like Vehicle and crew. If a plane has rideable animals and people to ride them, it can have Mounts to saddle. There's really not much else to say here.

Spree - Like Cases, there's enough leeway in the concept of sprees that this is a less restrictive name that it first appears. You can go on a crime spree or killing spree, but also a shopping spree! Which is nice, because "modular spell with modular cost" is a very usefull design tool. This might not be as stretchable as Cases, but it's not fully fixed to the crime and villain themes of OTJ.

Plot - This is an interesting one, because OTJ already ignores the implicit flavour restrictions. You can plot creatures, including wild animals. What does that even mean? So while this is theoretically narrow, it turns out in practice you can just do whatever you want with it. Perhaps this is a somewhat meta thing, as Magic is all about plotting your opponent's downfall.

Outlaws - Yeah, this batch of baddies is a very narrow idea, requiring a setting where being an outlaw is a Big Deal. I think this will be a general issue with batching going forward - it works very well to tied together specific set theme, but outside of the theme it ends up being too clunky. But batches are cheap, so it's not too much of an issue.

Committing Crime - It has crime in the name. Although in terms of putting a name to "targeting your opponent's stuff", I think that's as about as good as you can get. At least without coming up with a really weird technical-sounding term nobody likes. But yeah, it specifically uses the word crime, which brings a certain level of "caring about the law" into things that most Magic sets tend not to.

Bloomburrow

Everybody loves BLB, the set that's very original, assuming you aren't familiar with the material being referenced. It's cute and cuddly, except for the Calamity Beasts, living embodiments of natural disasters. Also it has a lot of mechanics.

Expend - This mechanic has basically zero flavour beyond what it is. You expend mana on spells, you get an effect. Since that's a thing happening in any set, expend has essentially no flavour restrictions.

Valiant - The updated version of heroic, which works with abilities, but only once a turn. Much like heroic, the flavour here is pretty flexible, since being heroic or valiant is something a lot of things do on a lot of planes. Not as extremely open-ended as expend, but still no serious restrictions.

Forage - Another funky cost mechanic like collect evidence. Unlike collect evidence, it's a bit more flexible, although the graveyard component is linked to the specific thing Bloomburrow's squirrels have going on. That's still something that bends fairly easily, but it's a restriction that the previous two didn't quite have.

Pawprints - A different way to do modular spells with modular costs, BLB featured a cycle of cards letting you chooses modes costing a total amount of pawprints. While this specific implementation is somewhat restrictive, the underlying technology can easily swap out the symbols. It's a little extra work, but it gets you where you want to go.

Gift - The first of the fun cute mechanics. Gift is essentially a kicker variant, where you get your kicks by being nice instead of paying more. While gifting is a universal concept, in the wizard-fights of Magic, the specific vibes of Bloomburrow are doing a non-trivial amout of work here. However, it's more a case that specific settings are broadly incompatible with the flavour of gift, rather than gift being locked to Bloomburrow.

Offspring - At first, offspring seems very flexible. Sure, maybe you can't put it on an angel or a construct, but lots of things have offspring. It's fine. Except when you think about it, Bloomburrow's cutesy flavour and funtime vibes manage to cover up that in some ways, offspring is a child soldier mechanic. It's right in the name! Perhaps that's a little bit of a mean reading... but March of the Machine did the same thing, just in the opposite direction. The scariness of Phyrexia covers for what exactly comes out of an incubator token. Which is also a mean reading I guess. Either way, offspring does have some peculiar flavour restrictions going on to avoid Big Troubles.

Duskmourn: House of Horror

I'm not going to lie to you: I love Duskmourn. It's a great concept for a plane and no amount of "but the cheerleaders" counts as an actual argument against it's strengths. Did you ever consider that Valgavoth wants the cheerleaders there, for his own sinister purposes? I thought not.

Rooms - Another new enchantment subtype, bringing the previously theoretical "split permanent" to life. Most planes have rooms. And since Rooms are enchantments, in some sense they represent the idea of a room more than the actually physical space. A tent could be a room. Or a cave. Or a cabin in the wood and it's princess-holding basement. But I digress. Flavourwise, Rooms can be dropped into essentially any set without serious work being needed to justify them. Can you believe people actually think otherwise?

Impending - It's like suspend, but on the battlefield. Plently of things can impend, although the word and time delay imply a certain level of grandness. An ordinary Ravnican does not impend, but Rakdos might. There's a bit of a catch in that an impending creature needs to also be an artifact or enchantment, but that's a fairly small hurdle to clear in terms of flavour. There's a lot of space to play in when it comes to "creature that shows up after a delay" that means the restrictions aren't too tough.

Survival - A little bit of a weird one, as it carries the implication that surviving isn't a normal thing. Many Magic planes are dangerous, but a certain level of survivability is generally implied. While this isn't entirely pinned to Duskmourn, there's a possible grimness to it that boxes survival into a more limited numbe of locations.

Manifest Dread - A second twist on manifest, for fun. Or terror, I suppose. Dread is a bit of a weird thing to manifest outside of places like Duskmourn and Innistrad, so this one definitely has a certain level of flavour baggage. While not entirely insurmountable, the flavour isn't quite as stretchable as some other mechanics.

Eerie - Like constellation, but it also works when fully opening a Room. This one actually feels very restrictive, because an enchantment entering or a Room unlocking is only eerie in the specific context of Duskmourn. In other contexts, that makes less sense. This might not be a large problem, since Rooms were used in a specific way in DSK, but eerie is still very glued to that.

Fallout

Pip pip, it's PIP. War never changes, but war has changed. I guess there's technically three mechanics here.

Junk tokens - It's junk. Lots of places have junk, and the junk effect is very generic. Just exiling a card off the top of the library so you can maybe play it. Perhaps the whole flavour package doesn't quite line up, but Blood tokens are in a similar niche. And Junk feels more like a thing that can show up anywhere than Blood does.

Rad counters - The problem here is not the concept of radiation. Every lorehead knows that Kaito and Eiko Skizuki's mother died due to radiation poisoning. Also, some guy called Yawgmoth investigated how powerstone radiation was bad for people, with terrible results. Thus, the multiverse has radiation that is bad for you, although only on planes with a certain technology level. The sticking point to me is that a "rad" is technically a real-world unit. Not as bad as the SI units that are named after actual people, perhaps, but still something to consider.

Bobbleheads - Honestly not quite a mechanic, but this artifact subtype does have a connected theme. This one is very wired in to the specific Fallout aesthetic, which is the first point against it. The other is that a bobblehead is a very particular thing, which most planes probably wouldn't be producing. Maybe pre-Valvagoth Duskmourn, but you know, the whole place got eaten by a demon.

Assassin's Creed

From my understanding, Assassin's Creed involves both an ancient precursor civilization, along with a millennia long conspiracy. So it's basically like Dominaria but less excessive.

Freerunning - An alternate cost, payable if you did combat damage with an Assassin or commander. It's a bit like prowl. It's also entirely wired into the specific details of the Assassin's Creed franchise. "Freerunning assassins" is like the entire point of those games. A very, very restrictive mechanic in terms of flavour, but it does feel like it was designed to be a one-off.

Conclusion?

Thematic keywords were not as troublesome as some might say. While a few end up being quite restrictive, others can be stretched further than expected, and some are actually quite generic, even with the context that created them. We also shouldn't forget that Magic has been doing this for a long time. Sometimes baking a little flavour into a mechanic's name is a good thing, especially if it doesn't really have the design space to exist outside of its original context.

Also it's a little weird there were two crime-themed sets in a row, and both 2023 and 2024 had what could uncharitably be described as child soldier mechanics.

#magic: the gathering #magic the gathering #mtg

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hlizr50 · 10 months ago

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I was shown a post this morning (I think it was from Tumblr, but I'm not 100% sure) where someone asked if maybe something was LOST IN TRANSLATION because so many Gwynriel shippers aren't native English speakers.

Now...

I'm going to give this person the benefit of the doubt and believe that they truly don't mean anything negative by the question, even though the implications are... harmful to say the least.

Here's the deal, guys.

There are Gwynriel shippers all around the world because there are ACOTAR readers all around the world. The ship is not localized to a region or a language.

When people read books, the words on the page send a message. Sometimes, if we're super casual readers, the messaging is limited or we don't read a ton into it. For other readers who choose to delve deep into how the author writes to try to understand what might come next, it is obviously a bigger investment.

But at the end of the day, we all read the SAME BOOK (and bonus content) and those words made us all feel different ways. Made us want or predict different things. And that's all well and good. The problem comes up when we try to explain why we feel the way that we do.

I'm an engineer. Even though I enjoy creative writing and art, my brain is practical. I like having evidence. I like being able to identify trends and make an educated prediction based on them. As someone who ships Gwynriel, I have never denied that there are canonical moments where Azriel and Elain have some level of... something. On page. It would be ignorant of me to say that those moments don't exist. However, for the most part FROM WHAT I'VE SEEN, when a Gwynriel shipper tries to use canonical evidence to support their ship -- WHICH EXISTS -- it's a constant barrage of 'that's not what that means' or 'how could you read that romantically?' or 'Gwyn is just a side character'. And then there are the blatant hypocrisies, like how Azriel saving Elain from Hybern is romantic but Azriel saving Gwyn at Sangravah should never be mentioned ever again.

I guess what this long-winded ramble is trying to say is that there's nothing lost in translation. We've read the same story, and we believe Gwynriel makes sense. We lean on canon and trends in the author's style to support the ship, and then we headcanon the hell out of it, because fandom is supposed to be fun like that. Some people read the story and believe that Elriel makes sense, and that's perfectly fine. But don't come at a Gwynriel shipper, attacking their textual evidence with your headcanon that Elain was barely existed in ACOSF bc she was apparently training to be a spy and she and Azriel were falling in love completely off-page with nothing to show for it.

And don't you dare make an implication so blatantly out of bounds like blaming it on some strange translation error that somehow miraculously makes Gwynriel makes sense, but only if it's not in English. Like... give me a break. And... think about what you're saying. For A SINGLE MOMENT.

#I'm just so tired #this is so dumb #read what you like #ship who you want #enjoy fanwork for your ship #and scroll past fanwork that isn't for your ship #gwynriel #fandom #sjm fandom #fandom ships #fandom fuckery #fandom bullshit #acotar #acosf #sarah j maas #sjm #acotar fandom

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py-dreamer · 8 months ago

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Rant about shadowpeach (WARNING! Mac slander)

I'm sure you've all heard this time and time again but you know what screw it I'm tossing my 2 cents into the ring

I think my bias for Wukong definitely has a part in this but I will try to be as neutral as possible which is impossible. My personal opinions will absolutely shine through but it is just that: a personal opinion

I love my trio of gay monkeys, I really do.

Is Macaque a good character? Yes

I do think he's a genuinely interesting character, with cool mystery ,interesting backstory, cool powers, he's fun to watch, has a kickass theme song and aesthetic and I can see why a lot of fans attach themselves to them.

Do I love seeing him with Wukong? Yes

Their banter is fun, past shadowpeach can be sweet as sugar (or spicy, I don't judge) and their angst is real yummy.

What I don't like is when the angst is all Wukong's fault. And everyone and their grandma will harp on the Monkey king and just ignore all of Mac's bullsh!t. Especially in fanfics.

Like don't get me wrong, keep writing that good stuff! But like...jeez

The amount of smack that the golden monkey goes through in this fandom is like...yikes.

Look, I know we're all hung up about the bloody murder thing.

(Personally I'm on the theory that Wukong didn't actually kill Mac, if they were really that close he wouldn't have acted so casual upon their battle after he murdered him, but I digress)

And Wukong should be called out on that BUT.

Mac also isn't blameless here.

(If you like toxic shadowpeach, fine. But this is for peeps who think that Wukong is the only toxic one and Mac was just a victim.)

Take it from this perspective:

The two were really close during the brotherhood era. Wukong kept doing stupid things to gain power and getting them in trouble and in the final battle did something astronomically stupid and they all lost.

Then they all ditch him...leading to his imprisonment (five phases mountain) and torture (furnace and also being fed iron pellets and hot mercury)

Fair, Mac probably shouldn't have been trapped too but he visited once out of 500 years, had a fight and never came back by the looks of it.

He assigns himself the role of the warrior who always stood by his king's side.

And then ditched him in his time of need.

Mans really failed at his own self proclaimed job.

Fine, he probably should've taken a break, none of them were in the right state of mind and Wukong was being very bratty.

BUT

IF HE TRULY VALUED THEIR RELATIONSHIP (from the looks of his lil gay play, he did) HE WOULD'VE Y'KNOW. COME BACK AND TALK?!?!

If he really valued their relationship, outside of calling him a coward and LEAVING, never to visit again. Would that not be a perfect opportunity to communicate?

Like, my dude. He's stuck in the rock. He can't run. Could you not find the roots of the problem and solved it?

But lets say "He was too busy taking care of flower fruit mountain"

(despite him literally EATING one of the monkeys in JTTW, but that was JTTW and I don't think its canon in Lmk. But still, interesting to note.)

I'm sure his subjects were worried about their king? Did he never answer them? If he really valued their bond, could he not have I dunno, shadow portaled some monkeys to see their king or like put time aside to communicate and update the monkeys?

But lets say "He was too traumatized from the burning of his home and was too angry"

500 gosh dang years seems like a long time to take a break.

I feel like at that point, he should've let go of Wukong

BUT NOOOO HE DOESN'T NOW DOES HE.

We establish that their relationship is kinda wrecked.

They don't communicate.

He ditched Wukong for 500 years.

But when he see's the pilgrims decides that Wukong ditched him and the brotherhood..?

So by his logic, Wukong has abandoned ffm the brotherhood and him, after they ditched him under a mountain for 500 years, never visited, never talked, never tried to rebuild their relationship.

Sees the circlet being used, sees the pilgrims not trusting him, sees him go on this journey unwillingly, not allowed to leave the monk unprotected, and comes to the conclusion that Wukong is a traitor...?

But plans to free him because he's being abused and forced to do it?

Pick a lane my dude. Did he abandon you or not?

BUT THEN.

He impersonates him, destroys what little trust the group had

WHILE TRIPITAKA STILL HAD EASY ACCESS TO THE FILLET MIND YOU

hurts Wukong multiple times, till he gets banished. And tries to kill Tripitaka as he still had the bloody circlet?!

This isn't sad lover getting revenge at being abandoned.

This is bitter jealous ex getting petty revenge and still expecting to get back together like this.

Also he says he watched as the pilgrims tortured him with the fillet. If he watched them, he'd know that Wukong is also obligated to fight and most of the time he does kill them, despite the pacifist monk.

He's required to PROTECT THE MONK AT ALL COST.

So tell me...

WHAT THE HELL WAS HIS PLAN?!

He does realize that like this was mandated by heaven right? And there'd be huge consequences to killing the monk right?

So basically:

Mac: yea so my plan is to impersonate you and commit crimes you didn't do, get you in trouble and inadvertently hurt you severely, traumatize you even more then kill the monk so we can go back to flower fruit mountain like we wanted to right?

Even though there will probably be astronomical consequences for you, me probably the rest of the monkeys for letting me kill this monk on the trip mandated by heaven. By failing to protect him, redeeming yourself and also losing a close friend heaven might probably put you under another mountain again probably forever this time, and I will probably use my powers to get out scotch free and we'd all blame you even though I killed him.

But you're still to blame for abandoning me, the brotherhood and your subjects even though I never visited you after our fight, calling you a coward, immediately leaving never to come back and update you on what happened. Its your fault the mountain is like this even though I never asked you for help or advice or even contacted you to let you know our home was destroyed.

Meanwhile I'm the victim and you never valued our friendship.

This idiot-

In summary, he abandons his king, accused him for ditching them all comes back claiming to help him by antagonizing him, hurting him and puts himself in a position where he kinda has to do something?

Because Mac was set on killing the monk.

Everyone acts like he just visited, said something mean and Wukong played the stab game bit too hard.

But he tried to kill him and wouldn't back off?

Seriously what did he expect Wukong to do?

The fandom acts like he was given a pass to not die when he's already broken off the relationship and put Wukong in an impossible situation where Mac wouldn't freaking leave or let go about killing the monk.

I'm not saying that Wukong should've killed Mac on the spot. But I just wish that everyone stops acting like he was being such an asshole and killing him out of nowhere.

(for someone with six ears and is meant to be all hearing he sure is bad at listening)

Then he gets revived by the lady bone demon and let me check:

steals all of Mk's powers

tries to kill the kid despite having no bad blood with him

antagonizes Tang, ridiculing him and calling Wukong a coward despite ditching him under a mountain

makes a copy of the TEA van to kidnap and traumatize Mk even more

Traumatizes Mk AGAIN in the shadow play and steals his friends souls

Hold Mei and Sandy hostage for the rings and tries to squeeze the life out of them

Shooting the airship down (OOOHHHH WUUUKOOOONG this ape is down bad.)

Chokes Mei and uses her as a hostage again for the samadhi fire ritual

Immediately leaves after Mei's firey outburst

Wants to leave possessed Wukong to the clutches of LBD

never gives Mk the full story in the ink scroll that he tried to kill Sanzang or how he never came back.

NEVER APOLOGIZES

I don't even think Macaque has apologized for any of his bullsh!t.

Some of his acts were necessary but he just makes it uneccessarily cruel and revels in their pain

And the fandom makes them all buddy buddy at the end, excuse all his actions and collectively hate Wukong?

Yes he does help Mk in fighting possessed Wukong but like LBD's reign would end the world as he knew it. What else could he do? DBK would probably do it in his position.

But he never apologizes to any of the cast.

I've seen fics where he does apologize which is good.

But he also never apologizes to monkey king?

But that will be in pt2. Yes there will be a goddamn pt2 cause I've not even scratched the surface when it comes to fanfics.

But I will take this chance to share a fic that does tackle this issue really well:

Fractured Pieces make a mosaic by @furornocturna

Cause this fic is genuinely so good I am vibrating at the seams, its one of my favs (also furornoctura's writing is good in general)

One of the only fics I've seen where the characters all call out Mac being a jackass and in an interesting way.

One day I will make some fanart for this but till then this will do

Their writing is so yummy go check it out

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