#me who cannot write fighting/sparring for shit though

[mvnces]

[ TRAIN ]: sender tackles the receiver as part of a sparring or training exercise. ( elias & chuck pls )

Pentecost had been the one to suggest that they sparred together. Maybe the thought process was for the two of them to work out all the aggression that they apparently had toward each other. Wear themselves out so they could be less of a problem around the Shatterdome. Giver everyone else a moment of peace. Maybe it would be a way for them to bond or something along those lines.

But it had been at leas two years since Elias had been able to have a friendly sparring session with anyone. And it would continue to be a whole two years since then.

A grunt escaped him, wind knocked out of him, as his back collided with the mat. The Hansen kid definitely had the size advantage of him and, apparently, wasn't afraid to use it. (Shame that Elias didn't have his knives with him, though). Elias snapped back into action, hooking a leg over Chuck's hip to use to his advantage to flip their positions.

[akingdomscrypt]

Make a Mercy Out of Me

Part Six

Pairing: König x male reader (slow burn)

Word Count: ~5.54k

Summary: More trials. And König having a bit of a gay crisis.

Warnings: none. Besides maybe König being a bit anxious here and there, an allusion to child trafficking for military purposes if you squint real hard near the end, and a very very brief mention of suicide in a purely logic based standpoint.

A/n: König is oddly horny as hell for no reason, I didn't set out to write him this way. I was possessed 🧍swear it. But he cannot keep his mind off your body.. ALSO I promise 🙏 promise we'll soon actually get into the meat of the plot, this all so far has just been background shit and setting the framework I needed for the story SOON THINGS WILL START CONNECTING 🙏🙏

---"how to cope when you find your enemy hot."---

hint: you don't

König greedily takes the opportunity to separate his body from yours. The match is over, and he inches away as subtly as he can, away from the other sergeants as well who, apparently, cannot help but make the filthiest jokes they can think of.

König pretends the heat warming his cheeks under the hood is due to embarrassment only and nothing else.

Now he had the time to recover and recuperate. And to try his best to push down whatever feelings you had inadvertently caused to bubble up inside him—down, down, deeper, crushing them into a jumbled mess and shoving them into an iron lockbox.

Next up it was you against the infamous Ghost, and, König's feelings aside, he was quite eager to see how this one played out.

You had defeated Gaz and Soap, and had very nearly gotten past König as well. Put up a good enough fight to make even a giant like himself struggle.

König takes a seat against the back wall of the gym to observe from. Not interested in providing the other two immature sergeants with himself as entertainment—though it seemed even those too were more intrigued by this fight than joking around some more.

It starts out typical enough, you and Ghost circling one another just as the past few spars have gone. Though it looks like Ghost has learned a thing or two from watching you with the rest of the team and doesn't give you the time to think, to calculate your every move.

He's feigning left, then taking a step back entirely when you catch on, avoiding what would've been a counterstrike on your end. Ghost gives you no time to recover from that, grappling you into his arms—restricting your arms just how König should've during his attempt—and immobilizing your upper body.

There's a bit of a struggle but the match soon ends with Ghost slamming you down onto the mat. One arm locked around your throat, the other using his hand to restrain your arms, one leg keeping yours tangled and trapped. All while he keeps his balance with one knee planted firmly on the mat in a wide stance. Preventing you from knocking him over.

Ghost only relents when your body goes limp below his, and König takes note of the exhausted droop of your posture when you finally get back up onto your feet.

“That's all for today,” Ghost calls it, sending a meaningful look König's way before flipping around to handle the others. “Back here tomorrow at oh-six-hundred sharp.”

“Soap, make sure Mouse gets cleaned up and fed. Don't let him out of your sight.” Ghost barks. Soap must sense something in the man's tone, because he doesn't make a single snarky quip. Just nods his head and leads the others out of the room. Only after the three disperse does Ghost finally face König again.

“On me,” is the only thing König gets before Ghost is, too, disappearing out of the room. Leaving König to scramble after him.

König wants to ask where they're going, but that quickly becomes clear when they make a sharp left. Ghost only knocks once before entering, not even waiting for an all clear before he's pushing the door open—strange behavior for the lieutenant, that's how König knows this is serious.

“Ah, Ghost,” Price says when they enter, the door clicks shit behind them, a nod in König's direction and subsequent, “Sergeant.”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” The captain sighs, and it's then that König really sees the man for the first time. He looks tired- no. Exhausted. Looking his age more than usual, or maybe older. And König notes that he hardly ever sees Price leave this cramped, makeshift office space. Back home the man could be seen chatting with his fellow officers or taking a moment to oversee training indoors and out. Perhaps taking a smoke break or two.

“We need to talk.” Ghost says.

Price raises an eyebrow, gesturing around vaguely with a pen as if to say ‘obviously’.

Ghost lets out a weary sigh of his own, shoulders dropping and König follows closely when the man takes a seat. Lingering behind his lieutenant on his feet.

“Mouse, he's-” Ghost cuts himself off, glancing up to König again then back down. “You can't tell me you don't see it, König.”

König considers it for a moment, but even he can't pretend he doesn't know what Ghost was talking about. You were dangerous. A walking hazard that they were lucky hadn't gone running towards your maker. Whoever that may be.

“Mouse is.. complicated.” König admits.

“Has he been causing problems?”

“Well, no, sir.. not specifically.” König isn't quite sure how to confront this, how to tell his captain that their team almost got completely demolished by the small soldier (?)—were you even a soldier, obviously you had some type of professional training, but that didn't mean much.

“We were doing a simple sparring match, getting a feel for his abilities. Figured Mouse would not be able to keep up, especially given his recent injuries but.. but he far exceeded our expectations, sir.”

“He took on Gaz,” Ghost adds for König.

“And Soap,” König finished. “He even almost got the upper hand over me. Taking Mouse down took a lot more effort than it should have.”

“Too much,” Ghost, begrudgingly, admits. “I saw how he fought with each of you, I knew I shouldn't underestimate him.. but there was a moment I doubted I would come out on top.”

That. That really gets Price’s attention, both of their attention, really. König snaps down to look at Ghost, surprised. “Really? You looked like you had him handled fine.”

All three of them sat in silence then. If you could defeat two of them, then provide enough of a struggle for the other two who were seen as almost invincible on the field, even if what was supposed to be a friendly spar.. that was not a good sign at all.

You had been easy to catch. Laughably easy. It didn't track with what they all had experienced mere minutes ago.

“I don't mean to overstep, sir.. but,” König hesitates. As if by simply saying it the sergeant would speak the words into existence, they would lose everything. “Do we.. do we even have anything to hold him? Legally speaking.”

“If it was not for that tip we got, he would just be a random civilian who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time..” Seeds of doubt began to sew in König's mind. What if you weren't who they had been chasing all this time?

Ghost turns to look up at him, and König wavers, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, hands twisting together as he tried to string together the thoughts swirling in his head, but it's Price that speaks up.

“What are you sayin’, König? That we got the wrong guy?”

“Well… maybe?” He squeaks, shrinking half his size under the captain's hard gaze.

“He does have a point..” ohthankfuck, perfect timing on Ghost's part, stealing Price’s attention away from the oversized sergeant.

“The note is circumstantial at best, and with all that blood and mud caked onto it, it's pretty much moot.” Ghost's tone takes on a hard edge, as he too is realizing that they all really had, well.. nothing to hold you on. “Even with all the strange shite he was spittin’ when we captured the runt. Could easily be washed away with the excuse of delusion due to blood loss.”

“Even the video evidence..” Price murmurs in agreement, followed by a heavy sigh as the man drags a hand down his face. “It's all blurry, and of cloaked, hooded figures in black. Faces covered and of varying heights and builds.. fuck.”

“Do we have.. anything?” König reluctantly asked, regretting opening his mouth again when Price's eyes immediately locked on him again. The captain sat up a little straighter, reaching for the papers on the desk and shifting them around.

“We have one thing..” Price doesn't expand on that idea further, mouth pulling into a thin line. There's a far away look in the man's eye, but König knew better than to question his captain. “You two are dismissed.”

“But-”

“I have enough to keep him. For now.” Price waves them away. “Now begone, shoo, I've got work to do.”

König puts his hands up in mock surrender while Ghost grumbles an amused, “yessir.” Then the two of them are out of the office, and more importantly, out of the captain’s hair.

“Thought you had left me here for dead.” Are the first words out of your mouth when König arrives back at the room you two unofficially share. König turns after locking the door behind him—by now he's certain you wouldn't try to escape, but it didn't hurt to be cautious and the bolt would at least slow you down in the case he was wrong—raising an unimpressed brow as he considers you.

You. Sitting there, on what used to be his (unofficial, again) bed, small and cute- dripping wet. Getting water all over the thin mattress. Looking like a drowned dog.

“They give you a towel..?” König's words are met with a scoff on your end and he is surprised you don't cross your arms over your chest and pout. Or, well, he supposed he didn't know whether you were actually pouting or not. Given the mask obscuring your features. Speaking of the mask..

“You do not take it off even to shower?” He asks, eyeing your damp—that had to be uncomfortable, did you really not trust them that much?—mask. The fabric leaking little droplets that raced down the column of your throat.

König tries not to linger on the other ideas that sight shoved into his mind.

He also pretends not to acknowledge the odd feeling that stirs in his chest, knowing you would rather-

“Just enjoy waterboarding yourself, then?”

Do that then risk being seen by them—by him. Fair enough, he supposed, it wasn't like you had been there long. Or had joined willingly—but you were here willingly, weren't you? …Ah, decidedly, you weren't. It was either this or- or death. Because they couldn't let you go, not when they couldn't even imprison you for your crimes—crimes they weren't even sure you had committed.

“Mm, something like that.” You retort. If König didn't know any better, he would assume the damn thing was glued onto your face. What kind of person used a straw like that if not because the thing was stuck on? That must be it; the thought elicits a private huff from the sergeant.

“What is so funny? I don't see you taking yours off either.” And there it is, crossing your arms like a defiant child, König bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing at the comparison.

“You are not with me all the time.” He says instead.

“Yeah, right,” you say, grumbling, a furrow to your eyebrows König refuses to admit is almost- almost adorable in some way. “You are practically glued to my hip half the time. I'm almost surprised you do not drag me with when you go to piss or something.”

“You think about me peeing often?”

“Only the healthy amount.”

“Uh huh, that so?”

“It is.” König can hear the smile in your voice—a real shame he can't see it—and breaks himself. Cracking a grin of his own under his hood, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation. It's not too long ago that he had held a blade to your throat—the same damn throat that was stupidly tempting when still damp with water, could do easily be mistaken as being slick with sweat-

It looked so out of place, the mask. The only black piece of clothing on you, mismatched when paired with the oversized shirt and pants, a belt cinched tight around your waist to hold the latter of the two up. König definitely doesn't briefly consider what it would be like to tug it down.

That would be unprofessional.

And he certainly doesn't have to force his eyes away from your body, thankful once more for the hood to shield his blush from view, and push his body to take a seat at the little desk in the corner instead.

“You should rest.” He says, stupidly keeping his back to you. But it was better than letting the little beast in his mind continue to devour the sight of you. “The lieutenant's got more in store for you tomorrow.”

There's a sigh a few moments later, joined by the rustling of fabric as, König assumes, you get comfortable on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah…” you murmur. “Just don't kill me in my sleep.”

“I make no promises.”

König was a fool. It was the next day—his back twinged now and again after he accidentally fell asleep at that tiny desk—and he really, really should not be as excited for this as he was.

Gaz held the record, Soap close behind. A part of König hoped you would surpass it.

All in all, he was a foolish man. A foolish man who was horribly excited to see you run this course. To see you sweaty and panting with exhaustion- and pocket that imagery later to think back on in a wholly different context.

König can't remember the last time he felt like this. It was dumb, beyond foolish—how many times was he going to say that?—, and so on.

You were the enemy still, technically. Yet his mind appeared to be hooked on the idea of you being so much more than that.

He was slipping up—promised himself he never would again, not after what happened the last time he let another occupy his mind like this—and not even bothering to try and catch himself before he fell. Hard.

And with no one there to catch him this time.

You're running this course with Soap and Gaz; Ghost had decided to keep him on the sidelines to help observe the three of you. It's just a simple obstacle run, nothing but climbing and sprinting and rolling around in mud. Alejandro had agreed to give them free reign over this area for the afternoon, the set up was a bit different than the one back home, but the premise was the same. First one to the end won.

Ghost was betting on Gaz,

“The lad holds the record in the other, why not this one as well? And that's with a gun, this should be a milk run for our boys.”

“Shouldn't you be rooting for your boyfriend?”

Ghost sends him a glare, but König snorts, knowing it held no heat behind it.

“Mind your own, Sergeant.”

“Just saying..”

“Soap is plenty good, but we all know Gaz is the most proficient in speed and agility.”

“Right, right,” König nods along, finding it impossible to keep the grin out of his tone. “As we all know, you have a thing for the beefy ones.”

Ghost elbows him, and König supposes he deserves that one, even as he silently chuckles. Shoulders shaking along with his amusement.

“Shut it, before I send you in there with them.”

König straightens up. “You wouldn't.”

“I would.”

“Mm, you would.” As much as König loved suffering under the heat of the sun—even in the winter, it was a far cry from the frigid temperatures back home—, he also loved keeping his dignity intact. However little was left. And getting distracted by you and ending up dead last would absolutely destroy the last bit he was clinging to.

“Maybe I should,” Ghost pipes up again a few moments later—they’re still waiting on Gaz, who had to make a brief visit with Price this morning—, though the lieutenant's sights are still on you and Soap. The two of you goofing around over by the course. “Give you somethin’ nice to look at, trip you up, knock you down a peg..”

“You are a heartless man, Ghost.”

“You started it.” Ghost says with a shrug, but König doesn't miss the squint of his eyes, following his gaze to catch as Soap says something and you turn around to playfully shove at him.

“What are you, five?”

“Oh, for sure. Didn't you know? You've been following the orders of a toddler all this time.”

“Now that I think about it, that makes a ton of sense, sir.”

Jealousy. König recognizes it with an amused huff. Then he watches as Soap does the same to you, a big grin on the Scot’s face as he does it, and König can't even pretend he doesn't know how Ghost feels.

Only it's a bit different. As Ghost is actually dating the erratic pyromaniac.

And you're not attainable. For him, or for anyone.

“Uh huh, righ’,” Ghost speaks after a moment of silence, and König had almost forgotten they were talking- seriously, what could possibly be so funny to have you giggling like that? König can't hear it from here, unsure if you're even making any sound. But people don't just double over like that unless it's from laughter.

“You both are hopelessly pathetic.” A voice from behind them jolts both men out of their reverie, turning at the same time to catch sight of Gaz standing behind them.

“Christ, it's creepy when you lot do that.” Gaz shivers under their duel stares, breaking the tension König hadn't even realized had sprouted in the air. “We ready to start, or…?”

Ghost turns back around and Gaz tracks the man's stare, barking out a laugh when he puts the pieces together. “Don't worry, he's all yours, big man,” Gaz says, patting Ghost in the shoulder.

Ghost shrugs it off, grumbling.

“Soap, Mouse, line up!” Gaz calls on his way over to the other two, Soap calls something back but König isn't paying attention. Too caught up on the little glimmer in your eye, a far cry from the dullness that has resided there these past weeks.

If König didn't know any better, he would say you look almost fond as your gaze flicks between the two sergeants. A look that soon shifts into something deeper, darker. Longing.

You glance away then, and König catches your eye. Giving you a small nod not even he knows the meaning behind, but it works and you perk up again just the slightest bit.

“Alright. Enough goofing off, you three.” Ghost barks. Full lieutenant mode is back, it seems.

You come in first place, not even looking a smidge out of breath. König pretends he had been paying attention to all three of the men on the course, but he wouldn't be able to recite a thing if asked. Ghost doesn't ask.

Good. Because he's certain the lieutenant doesn't want to hear all about the way König had stood there on the sidelines, categorizing all the different, minute shifts, the tense and release, of all the muscles in your arms, the ones peaking out in the glimpse he could get of your back. Watching closely as you pull yourself up the wall in just a few bounds—too short for just a running start to get yourself up, but a quick burst of energy from kicking against the wall is more than enough to boost you.

There isn't even a speck of sweat on you when it's all said and done, and König swears he's probably perspiring more than you from simply standing there. Observing.

Ghost knocks him out of his doomed, one track mind before calling time. You first, with Soap and Gaz just barely lagging behind. Gaz, predictably, gets there a mere millisecond before Soap, but Soap doesn't get any pity points from his boyfriend.

The only difference between you and the two sergeants is that they, at least, appear like they just ran a full obstacle course. You, on the other hand, look as if you've just gone for a casual walk in a park. Eyeing the other two with—adorably—furrowed eyebrows, as if confused as to why Soap and Gaz are a bit out of breath.

“Christ above,” Soap takes the offered water from Ghost when he gets close enough, wheezing a bit. “Ah'm never doin’ that again.”

“It was just an ordinary course, Sergeant.” Ghost says, but König heard the hint of humor in the man's tone.

“Ordinary my arse,” Soap grumbles after gulping down half the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The set up, maybe. But Ah'm pretty sur’ I best ma’ own damn time.”

Ghost looks down, checking the little scribbled down time stamps he'd made in his wrist. A small doodle representing each of the three and the times right beside it. “You did.”

“Huh??”

König snorts, listening in even as his eyes flick up to catch sight of you again. Still chatting with Gaz, and looking so, so confused by all of this.

“You and Gaz both,” Ghost clarifies. “Both of you beat your own record.”

“Ach, damn. Ah knew I was pushin’ mahself, but I dinnae think it was that much.”

“Not confident in your own abilities, Soap?” König teases, glancing down at the other sergeant just in time to catch his pout.

“S’not like tha’,” Soap grumbles, but now that he's been able to catch his breath, his words gradually become more intelligible again. “You're runt just cleared us with zero effort, dinnae even look back. Had to push ourselves just to keep up.”

“And yet you still came in last.”

“Gaz is a speedy bastart, nothin' can help that.”

Ghost puts a hand on Soap's shoulder, the latter leaning into the touch just barely. And soon enough the lieutenant is calling out the next instructions. Soap soon disperses to join you and Gaz once more.

“C'mon now, inside. This time it's just you, Mouse.”

Again, this next one is similar to what they have back home, but just different enough to be interesting. A typical small urban layout with cardboard cutouts as targets. Some that moved, some that stayed stationary, and others that popped out at you when triggered.

“Just me? I am honored.” You interject when close enough. Leaving the two spent sergeants behind to join Ghost and König at the front.

“What are we doing this time? Another obstacle thing?”

“Sort of,” Ghost says. “Jus’ your typical urban combat setting. I'll set another timer, see how quick you can get in and out without losing any points or having time added to your overall score.”

“Sounds straightforward enough.” You nod along, soon coming up to a door which König opens, letting the four of you file in first.

“It should be.” König muses, letting the heavy door fall shut behind you all with a weighted clunk.

The temperature is vastly cooler indoors when compared to the stifling warmth of outside—why, why is it warm in winter??—and König can finally breathe easily again.

“Who knows,” Ghost cuts in. “Maybe you'll even beat Gaz’s record.”

The possibility put open into the air drags a deep, exaggerated groan from the sergeant in question.

“Why, Ghost, whyyy? Don't say that! You're goin’ to speak it into existence!”

Ghost shrugs, dismissive, but they all—with the exception of you—, see that the action contained an underlying thrum of amusement.

Ghost gives you the brief rundown while the other three find their place from which they will sit and observe.

“Do ya think he'll manage it?” Soap asks from König's left, nudging his arm with an elbow to get König's attention.

“To beat Gaz? Or have a good score?”

Gaz grumbles something to König's right, but Soap responds before he can tease the man some more.

“Uh, both? But mostly the first. Y’don’t think he can really do it, d’ya?”

“I'd say it's best we don't underestimate him,” Ghost interrupts, coming over to sit on Soap's other side. Apparently he had already gotten you set up. “At all. The runt's already far exceeded our expectations.”

The three nod along in agreement with their lieutenant.

“That's for sure,” Gaz says. Obviously the man isn't truly that worked up over the possibility of you surpassing his old score, but the easy jokes were more manageable than facing the reality that they still had no idea who—what—they were dealing with.

They knew nothing about you, a persistent fact that bothered König more and more every time it resurfaced in his mind. They didn't know your real name—if you even had one—, nor did they know where you came from. They had found you, here, in Mexico, but that didn't mean this is where you originated from.

No origin, no name, no age, no clear goals or motivation. No purpose. It was almost suspicious, with nothing—at least surface level—to live for, it was a wonder you hadn't simply.. well, to put it bluntly, committed suicide yet. Taken the easy way out.

Not that he would ever want that, but from a purely logical standpoint.. it made the most sense. Which, given that you were still here and had something to prove, there must be something you were doing all of this for.

An oath? Responsibility? Someone to return to?

Something to live for. Someone to live for. To greet you when it was all over, whatever ‘it’ was in the first place.

Maybe that was the key. You had someone waiting on you. A friend? Someone more—though given your clear disdain for socialization at any point, König figured that wasn't the case, but he couldn't rule it out, and he ignored the way that made him feel. Or, rather, didn't make him feel.

You were enemies. Reluctant allies at best. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Rubber?” Soap's voice brings König back into reality, the four of them watching you do a brief inspection of the weapon you had been given for this test.

Ghost shakes his head, negative. “Paint.”

“Paint?”

“Need to see where the shots land, but the last thing I wanted was to give him a real firearm. Rubber hurts more. So paint it is.”

Huh, König doesn't think he's ever seen anyone do that before. Not that it would be more difficult, maybe a little light if the faux weapon wasn't properly weighted. Other than that, you shouldn't be at any disadvantage. Or advantage.

König zones back in to watch you work the moment the alarm blares through the speakers, signaling the start of the course.

They watch you run through the twists and turns of the mock interior of a home, and it puts König on edge when you somehow manage to predict where the cutouts are going to spring out before they even happen. Some you aren't even in the same room as. In a run you've never been through before.

It reminds König of that time before, when you picked up on the sounds of apparent bombs. A noise Gaz nor himself ever were able to hear. Not until the detonation itself.

Could it be.. could it be that you were just naturally gifted with excellent hearing? Or maybe it was the vibrations of the sound waves in the floors.. no, that wasn't right.

König suspects even someone with ears in perfect condition, never damaged and born with zero imperfections, would be able to hear the things you do. You have.

This wasn't human. It wasn't natural. It was technical. Man-made. Enhancement.

Of course, devices to aid in hearing weren't unheard of. But that's just what they were. Assistive device. Designed to give those with hearing impairments the chance to experience what the average person did, or close to.

They didn't do.. this. And those eyes. König had thought it was his imagination when it first happened, back in the little city along the border. A reflective glare, like a cat's when a phone tried to capture them in the dark.

He catches it again when you turn into a darker room—once again locking onto a target before it gets the chance to even straighten out—a little sheen. A reflection when the overhead lights hit just right.

This wasn't some fantasy bullshit, obviously you were human. There was no other option. But you were for certain.. enhanced.

That brought up questions of how? Why? Who? And, further, what was the purpose of it? If you had increased hearing and sight, what other senses had gotten the same treatment? What were the limits?

Were there any limits?

Who did this to you? Why? Were there more like you?

A sinking feeling tells König he doesn't want to know the answer to that.

19.8, that's your final score. Gaz is, understandably, thrilled by this. Letting out a loud whoop and springing to his feet.

“I'm just glad I can keep my dignity after the disaster of the last run.” Gaz says, turning to Soap and clapping his palm down on his shoulder with a deep, dramatic sigh. “Can't say the same for you, mate.”

“Oi, shove off,” Soap grumbles, swatting the other man's hand away while Ghost looks on with amusement.

König's attention is drawn away by your approach, a slight crinkle to your brow that grabs his focus. Odd. You should be thrilled by this, few managed to get below Soap's score, much less beat the Scot and almost reach Gaz as well.

Ghost starts to go over your score with you, but König doesn't zone in on that. No. He pays mind to your stiff posture and wonders briefly if your injuries were acting up again. Perhaps that was the source of your soured mood.

When all is said and done you're dismissed with a wave and barked order that you would meet back here again tomorrow. More testing—more opportunity to watch how you move, to gauge your responses and capabilities. To understand how exactly they would need to act if they had to put you down, if it came down to that.

The walk back to your shared sleeping quarters is short, and you keep up with König better than expected after today's adventures.

Once you both are back in the room, though, that is when you finally break your silence. You had been quiet when Ghost had given you the rundown, not even joining Soap and Gaz in their banter like you had after the first test.

“What the fuck was that?” You growl, flipping around to face König as he locks the door behind you both.

“Mm?” He inquires, taken aback by your sudden outburst. Huh. König had thought things had been going well. Guess he had been wrong.

“Do not give me that look.”

König's frown deepens, completely out of his depth here. Was he supposed to know what you were talking about.. comfort you maybe? How would he even begin to do that? He didn't know why you were upset- and surely it wasn't his responsibility to comfort the enemy-turned-reluctant-ally.

“Ughh!” You throw your arms up and turn around, just in time before König can catch the wince you make because of the action.

“I truly do not understand, Maus..” König mumbles, eyebrows scrunched together as he drags his gaze over your body again and again. This time under completely innocent intentions, truthfully. He just cannot comprehend what could possibly be bothering you.

“Does your shoulder hurt? Your leg?” He asks, probing for more information. If he could just figure this out then he could get you to sleep, get out of these damn clothes and into something comfortable, maybe take a shower..-

“Are you kidding?” You huff, one gloved hand dragged roughly down your face.

“Uhh.. nein?” König shuffles in place, his shoulders curling in slightly. He's exposed, more vulnerable than he's felt in years and he's not even in public this time. König just desperately hopes you don't turn around—doesn’t think he could handle being seen right now. Being observed.

“Fine. Fine.” You flip down on the thin cot, both hands over your face, grumbling. König lets out a small breath of relief when you don't look at him. “Pretend you don't know. Like you all weren't making a complete fool of me out there. Giving me those stupid, easy assessments. The kind of shit fucking teenagers know how to do.”

König is yanked from his spiraling thoughts. Teenagers? What did- what?

“I don't understand.” König finds himself repeating, dumbly. “You beat two out of five of the best soldiers in this regime. You nearly broke a years long standing record, injured, mind you. How were we treating you like a, uh, ‘fool’, or so you say.”

König catches you peeking out from between your fingers, confusion swirling in those striking hues.

“What?”

“What?” König parrots.

“You are telling me..” you begin, pushing yourself up into a seated position. “That.. that was a good score? A good run?”

“Uhh.. yes?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“... Yeah, goodnight then, König.”

And the conversation is over, leaving König utterly puzzled. “Okay…”

König drags out the last syllable, muttering to himself under his breath as he turns around, grabs a change of clothes, and dips out of the room. Locking it firmly behind him. He needed to speak with Ghost again, then probably Price too.

First, a shower.

__

Masterpost | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Next..

__

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If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments!

[book--wyrm]

Listened to the official penguin podcast. Here's producer Nick Towne talking about that Eve - Sofia scene

NICK: There's so many micro-beats. There's two people feeling each other out, trying to test each other moment to moment. You got one person that's fighting for their life. Eve in that scene just--is just using all the experience that she's developed as a sex worker to try to read this person and figure out if there's a soft, like a weak underbelly anywhere in there so that maybe she can get out of this situation alive. AMY: I hadn't thought of that. That like-- I think of Sofia as being this mastermind, but Eve's job is literally figuring out what people want to hear. NICK: Yeah. And I mean, Sofia says something like, "You know what people want to hear. You're good at saying what people want to hear." And I think-- I think in that scene, to me, Eve is really looking for… She's kind of balancing this feeling of like, "I'm dead, and I know it," with, "Well, if there's a chance, maybe there's a way out for me." And I think that she finds it when she's able to say, you know, "If you kill me, then you're gonna be a killer of sex workers just like your father." And that's the last thing Sofia wants to become, is her father, so she's now in an impossible situation. AMY: But the torture of that beat. Sofia's heading out the door. It's almost done. NICK: Yeah. Yeah. AMY: What makes Eve snap and say, "I'll tell you where he is"? NICK: I mean, she has just learned something that she-- She knows that Oz is, like she says, a narcissist, a narcissist and a killer and a scumbag. But when Sofia reveals to her, "Yeah, no, he helped cover up the crimes, you know, Carmine killing your family, your friends, your coworkers, your family," she realizes, "Oh, Oz is even more depraved than I realized." And in that sense, like she says, Sofia deserves her shot. You know, I think Eve is very pragmatic and practical. Maybe she doesn't think that Sofia is going to survive confronting Oz. Certainly, history would say that people don't tend to survive confronting Oz. But she deserves her shot, you know. And I think that that's the camaraderie that they find in each other in that scene, in that moment.

biting chewing throwing up, as per usual.

you know what drives me insane, though? Oz's manipulations earlier in this season felt so fucking clumsy, like when he's trying to convince Sofia to bring him onboard in Ep 2, just throwing out shit in a desperate attempt to find a bait that works. If Sofia had had *any* other option, it doesn't feel like she'd have turned to him.

But here, Sofia and Eve have their little sparring match, feeling each other out, testing each other, and then...

When they go for the kill, they each end it immediately with a single verbal attack on each other, delivered with pinpoint accuracy.

"You still think I'm the Hangman? [Oz] never told you?"

Instant KO by proxy, just completely obliterating any reason Eve has to stay loyal to Oz, burning down all the goodwill he has built with her over the course of their life together with nothing but the brutal truth.

and

"But that's not who you are, right?"

All at once a question, a plea, and a challenge. She can kill Eve here, and she can be someone other than the Hangman, but she cannot be both, and it then becomes a matter of what Sofia want's more. To hurt Oz, or to stay herself.

I love this show i love this writing i love these actors i am going insane

[smoked-salmon-official]

my ass got paramount plus so yk what that means MORE EARTHSPARK AU VICKY

im currnetly dying of a disease called ES vicky brainrot so feel free to slide into my inbox and talk about it w me [pls pls pls pls pls]

i promise the whole long thing is worth a read i had sm fun writing it

-megatron and optimus tell vicky that they are going to have some fucking FUN and they gotta go w mo, robby, thrash, and twitch to dot's nature center or whatever the fuck its called. vicky really doesnt want to go but their dads are trying so hard to undoom them from the narrative and yea people pleaser so they go

-unfortunately vicky is yet another cybertronian [war criminal too] that megs and oppy conveniently forgot to mention to ghost

-victory gets caught up in the ghost shenanigans as well and end up hiding and then making an escape w the others

-its actually fun being like a little kid again, it reminds them of when they snuck around bot and con bases just havin fun w bee and hot rod

-when they fall into the holographic pit trap vicky is like im not fucking paid enough for this. but actually when optimus's silhouette falls over them they throw themself in front of the kids almost instinctively... found family moment

-okay imagine how mortified vicky is for their dad to catch them in the glorified glue trap w these losers

-okay now OP is panicking a bit bc while he does care about the new bots and needs to hide them ofc, he absolutely cannot and will not let anyone else get their hands on his kid, not when hes failed them so many times already. he thought that sticking them on the farm would keep vicky out of trouble, but clearly not... OP moves wildly between treating vicky like a child who cant defend themself and a dangerous war criminal/decepticon, but yeah he does genuinely love them

-vicky is not thrilled about being stuck in their dads trailer with a bunch of arguing kids. however, they do try to calm the situation down to literally no fucking avail

-OP is playing it cool but hes terrified of anyone taking vicky away from him - again [never mind the fact that HE sent them away to the fuck ass found family barn]

-vicky is like dying laughing hearing OP give his dead pan scripted ghost speech

-the kids go off gallivanting in the ghost HQ and vicky follows them because cmon man they love fucking shit up. they wander into... oh shit. megatron's training room set to fucking unicron level 14 (i had a laugh at this)

-vicky is having the time of their life right now. like genuinely they love sparring ! they love fighting ! and theyre killing it bc they learned to fight from lockdown and scourge and pretty much trained w the djd until they were so exhausted they couldnt walk. [and also homerotic sparring sessions with vos ofc]

-there's a brief moment of pain though, twitch's double swords remind vicky of their own swords, a gift from the DJD. they lost them somewhere during the earth final battle. it's okay though, they still have their built in swords from ya boy lockdown

-upstairs, OP is like "lets go get our kids !" and dot's like "OURS ??? THE WEIRD HUMVEE DUDE LIVING IN MY BARN IS YOUR FUCKING KID???"

-op's like ... yea ... dots like dont fucking tell me megatrons the other parent. OP's like boy do i have news for you

-the kids ask vicky where they learned to fight like that and they just kinda look away bc. sad. [their friends from space are who knows where, tarn is dead, and the rest of the DJD is holed up in peaceful tyranny 2 bc its too dangerous for them. and they stay on earth for vicky, even though it sucks for them]

-when dot hugs mo and robby OP does the same w vicky omg its so sweet. while OP worries for them and doesn't want them getting into anymore danger [just wants a quiet life for them where they can both learn to be better and heal], he's glad that vicky's able to get up to some childish misadventures and chaos every once in awhile

-on their way out, vicky sees all the cons locked up and ... technically, they suppose they're a bot now, but these are their people ! megatron abandoned the cons, but vicky sure wont ! and it just hurts them that theres no one to fight for the cons on earth who just want a hom etoo

[garlictoast]

It Takes Two

i hate this title but cannot think of anything better for the life of me.

day 6 of @lastdaysofwar! baby boy finally makes an appearance. it's actually criminal how little i write chuck.

The day of the PPDC’s annual ceremonial dinner, Chuck sulks for the better part of the day, taking the annoyance with him from his room, to the mess hall, to Kwoon. Raleigh must notice Chuck’s less than grand mood as he stops mid sparring session, arms folded over his chest.

“What?” He asks simply.

“‘What’ yourself, Becket,” Chuck retorts, dropping out of his ready position. “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re in a bad mood.”

Chuck snorts. “So? I fight better.”

“No, you don’t. You easily could’ve blocked my last three hits. You’re distracted.”

“You stopped in the middle of the fight.”

Raleigh raises one eyebrow. Chuck sighs but doesn’t yield. The two stand in silence for a long minute, unmoving, both determined to wait out the other’s patience. Or stubbornness, depending on who you ask. Finally, Chuck sighs, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not looking forward to wearing dress blues tonight, okay?” he snaps.

Raleigh stares at him, his stupid face breaking out into a mocking grin. “Are you serious, Chuck? Dressing up is what has you so put off? It’s just a dinner party.” He’s right, of course, but Chuck isn’t going to give him the pleasure. Every year, the PPDC hosts the same event, where a bunch of stuffy, uptight officials lurk around the rangers and pretend they know what it’s like to fight Kaiju.

Chuck waves him off, moving back into a ready stance. “Don’t patronize me, Ray. Pick up the stick and fight me already.” Raleigh’s still grinning as he matches Chuck’s stance. Chuck scowls at the other ranger’s stupid face, pushing his ire into their sparring session instead.

That evening, Chuck tugs on his ties with deft hands. He refuses to perceive himself in the mirror, dutifully keeping his eyes only on the thin fabric between his fingers. He doesn’t necessarily hate the uniform; they’re boring, if anything. No different from regular military dress. The problem is the event.

Chuck doesn’t see himself as a dress-up type. He’s not a hero, and not some desk jockey who has this one thing to look forward to every year. He hates being shown off like some show pony, dragged around by directors and board members, judged by the way he acts, the way he looks, the way he talks. (Though, the way he looks, isn’t as much a problem.) There is, inevitably, some group of old vets who compare getting body slammed by 3,000 tons of alien to sleeping in the mud for three days. Not to mention, the suits are damn stuffy, and the room is always too hot. Chuck yanks the end of the tie through the knot, giving it a sharp tug before finally stepping back.

Yeah, the looks are definitely not the problem. He drags a comb through his hair—the most he’s willing to do with it—before tossing the comb aside and leaving his room, his jacket slung over one shoulder. He steps into the hall at the same time as Raleigh, the two rangers pausing to take each other in. Raleigh’s not fully dressed yet, with his tie looped limply around his neck and jacket missing, but Chuck thinks the Gipsy pilot has never looked better.

“Have you seen Mako?” Raleigh asks before Chuck can come up with anything clever to say.

“Well, she’s not in my room, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Raleigh frowns at him. “Never mind.” He starts to walk away, and something possesses Chuck to go after him.

“C’mon, Ray, you can’t give me shit for being annoyed about playing dress-up when you don’t even bother to finish the look. Go tie your tie and get your jacket, then we can find Mako together.”

Raleigh glances sideways at him, the frown still pinching at the corners of his mouth. The guy’s gonna have some serious frown lines someday, Chuck thinks. “I need to find Mako first.”

“What, you need her to tie your tie?” Chuck jokes, punching Raleigh playfully in the shoulder.

Raleigh doesn’t laugh, though. He actually stops walking, gaze flicking to one side, then downwards, as he tries to avoid eye contact. Finally, he sighs, staring Chuck down with those seriously blue baby-blues.

Chuck’s playful grin slowly morphs into one of disbelief. “You can’t be serious, mate.”

Raleigh only sighs, shifting his weight.

“Raleigh. You can’t tie a tie?” Chuck doesn’t fail to recognize the irony of the situation. Raleigh gives him shit for not wanting to dress up, and the man can’t even do it himself.

It’s Raleigh’s turn to be annoyed as he turns on his heel, back towards his room. “I just never learned, okay?”

“You never—hey, hold on—” Chuck has to jog to catch up to him, blocking Raleigh’s door with one arm. Raleigh gives him the most withering look he’s ever received from anyone who wasn’t Herc. “I need to know how the great Raleigh Becket does, what, five years? In the PPDC, and never learned how to tie a damn tie.”

“Get out of my way, Chuck.” Raleigh shoves him aside, pushing the door open. To his credit, he doesn’t slam it in Chuck’s face. Chuck trails into the room after him, blocking the exit as Raleigh grabs his jacket from it’s hanger. The two rangers face off for the second time that day, though this time, Chuck is the one with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s not letting up this time, either. He holds Raleigh’s stare, one eyebrow raised in a mock of the other ranger, until Raleigh finally caves. “It’s just—Yancy always tied it for me.”

Chuck, for once in his life, doesn’t have anything to say. Instead, he steps forward, hardly registering he’s moving until he has Raleigh backed up against to wall. The older ranger doesn’t protest, only watching carefully as Chuck tosses his own jacket onto Raleigh’s bed before reaching out to the other man’s chest.

“I had to teach myself how to tie a tie,” Chuck says quietly as he takes to two ends of Raleigh’s tie, looping the thicker end over the other. “Growing up, just me and Dad, I was home alone more often than not.” He loops it over again. “There were a lot of times I had to get dressed up on my own. Proms, weddings, funerals, PPDC bullshit. I’m sure Dad would’ve done it for me, if he could’ve been there.” He doesn’t mention how much he hated it then, putting on a suit. Always has. Always will. Always a reminder of how much he was alone as a kid. “Maybe I can teach you sometime.” He tucks the end through the knot, pulling it snug. He pats Raleigh’s chest before stepping back, admiring his handiwork.

Raleigh stares down at his tie, then at Chuck, as if he’s just witnessed some weird, convoluted magic trick. Chuck turns away quickly to hide the blush he can feel crawling up his neck, grabbing his jacket off Raleigh’s bed.

“Put your jacket on, Ray. Pentecost will kill us if we’re late.”

Raleigh obeys—something Chuck vaguely thinks he could get used to—slipping his jacket over his shoulders, buttoning it snuggly across his front. Chuck grins, pulling on his own jacket before taking Raleigh by the shoulders, twirling him to face the mirror. The two blonds stare back at each other, looking almost identical in their dress blues.

“Well, don’t we make a pretty picture,” Chuck says, only half joking.

For once, Raleigh smiles.

[wifiwuxians]

I've been seeing more SVSSS on your blog lately and it's made me curious, which SVSSS ships do you like?

I know you like MingLing and TianXi, is there anything else? And if so, which ones and why! I love reading your opinions on ships.

OMFG i'm flattered you wanna know my humble opinion on this stuff, I am very far from a main on SV (only read it once! been planning to reread but life just keeps happening constantly) but I do of course love playing with dolls like this and I have been considering drawing some guys

So YES absolutely MingLing and TianXi, the first seems so crazy obvious with the way SHL lost her whole shit when she saw LMY's face (like WHAT how DARE you be this hot- from what I gather this is at times how demons handle attraction), the second makes me painfully sad and I just want the best for them, I'm so weak for demon/human romances I really wanted them to work out lol even though you go in knowing it DIDN'T

AS FOR MORE... This will surprise absolutely no one but MoShang lol MOSHANGGG oh my god. Wifiwuxians liking the icy one? Impossible. The fact SQH wrote his ideal man and that ideal man ended up being my type? This is a sign of some kind I feel... I love how SQH went for it too like I dunno how I'd act if my OCs came to life but I have to commend that he stuck to his husbandino like glue. And there are few things I like more in fiction than the stoic one just carrying his emotional support tiny person around like it's nothing and showing their care through actions rather than words and STILL fumbling it. These two are the kings of the fumble mambo but they made it WORK because they care about each other... And their sex was terrible and they still stayed together... They're so messy but their turning point (with the noodles) was enough for me tbh. I wish for them a very long and happy life

Then... I really like GongZhi ofc, I'm obsessed with that missed connection, like what could that have been had ZZL not, you know, killed his ass. I think they could have been rather sweet! I feel like most ships with ZZL would really stress the idea that he isn't a hideous monster and that he is deserving of love and affection and basic human life, but I feel it to be worth double when it comes from GYX who was literally like "fuck that thing is ugly let's kill it" KJSFKJSg imagine instead that they fight and ZZL is about to strike a fatal blow now sitting atop GYX and he's in his two-legged form about to say something profound or who knows and they both have a 😳 moment and ZZL runs off to go figure out wtf that was. Super silly but it's Scum Villain give me a break

And the one that's growing on me that I'd most likely have the itch to create for is..................... BingLiu. I just love the idea of LBH effortlessly kicking LQG's ass at practically everything and LQG HATING it but LBH loves it because it's the way they spend time together... And he would just goad LQG into "sparring" with him and always praise him if he gets any closer to beating him and it drives LQG up the WALL. That's the mental idea that got me into it in the first place, of course I'd have different approaches to it like what if little Binghe focused on Qingge instead of Shizun etc... Potential for drama when it comes to light LBH is half demon but that then opens the door a similar flavor to the aforementioned dynamic where LBH is just like "come on, don't you want to bring down this big, bad, scary demon" and LQG being all "ohh I HATE him I cannot STAND him", and then of course if any REAL threat occurs while they're doing their song and dance, LBH rescues LQG and NOW what is he going to do!!! Sure all he did was pull him out of the way but now they're all ✨close✨...

I'm realizing I really like cocky playful Binghe and he lends himself well to this ship hm uh ah

I'm not versed enough in SV to do it so if anyone out there is willing to write me like a 50k BingLiu fic based on this idea...

And then I also like QiJiu but they make me super sad jjssdg

It's all rather predictable isn't it when you see the silly dynamics I draw LOL

[gallifrey1sburning]

Okay Drarry prompt: (your choice who is A and who is B) Character A tilting Character B’s chin up to get a better look at their face and the evidence of the fight. A delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by B’s mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, B’s heart skips a nervous beat as A looks them dead in the eyes. Their voice is quiet and tense, their anger barely restrained. “Who did this to you?”

Hello hello! I almost never write angst, so I was going to fluff-ify this, but then I had a bad day and decided to take it out on Harry. (Sorry, Harry. I promise it ends okay.)

Pardon Me While I Burst 

Harry poked at his split lip in the mirror and hissed. He could already see a nasty bruise forming across one cheekbone, and his eye was beginning to swell. And that wasn’t even getting into the various smaller cuts and bruises.

Christ. He was beginning to sober up a bit, and the numbness that came with being several whiskys deep was fading, giving way to a sharper pain than he’d expected. He gingerly traced a scrape across his cheek with a fingertip, vaguely remembering the glint of a ring on a huge, meaty fist as it flew at his face, and winced. He might have gotten a bit overambitious in his choice of opponent tonight. Still, he’d had worse.

Just then, the door to the flat slammed, making him curse under his breath in panic. He’d thought he’d have more time before Draco got back from his date; he usually didn’t come home until dawn. There was no way Harry was going to get himself healed before Draco made it this far, and Harry, like the idiot he was, hadn’t even closed the bathroom door. He contemplated spelling it shut now, but he was still tipsy enough that he wasn’t sure he could control the force of the spell. He didn’t think that accidentally knocking the door off its hinges would be particularly helpful to his current predicament.

Sighing, he dropped his head and closed his eyes, resigned to the inevitable. Four… three… two… 

“Oh good, you’re up! You would not believe the night that I—” Draco’s cheerful voice halted abruptly as he reached the bathroom door. Harry gripped the edge of the sink, aware of how his bloodied knuckles must look against the porcelain, and didn’t look up until a gentle pressure under his chin forced him to. He heard a sharp inhale, and reluctantly opened his eyes, although he couldn’t bring himself to meet his flatmate’s gaze. Draco’s expression was unreadable as he tipped Harry’s head from side to side, cataloguing his injuries. Harry guiltily savored the warmth of Draco’s fingers against his skin, trying to memorize the sensation before it ended.

Draco didn’t let go of him right away, though. Instead, he held Harry’s head still, raising his other hand and swiping a thumb along his split bottom lip, making Harry flinch. Draco raised the hand in front of Harry’s face, showing him the streak of blood across his pale skin. 

“Who did this to you?”

The ice in his voice was enough to make Harry’s eyes finally snap to meet his. Silver eyes bored into him, and he looked… fuck, he looked furious. Suddenly overwhelmed by guilt, Harry felt his own eyes begin to well and quickly yanked himself out of Draco’s grasp, turning away to escape that penetrating gaze before he gave too much away.

“It was no one; don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it? Harry, you look like—” He stopped, took a deep breath. “Who was it?”

“Just some guy at a bar. It really doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t believe you. No one just jumps Harry Potter at a bar.”

“It was a Muggle bar. And—” Harry was very glad that he wasn’t facing Draco for this part. “And I hit him first, anyway. It’s fine.” Draco was silent, and Harry babbled on, fueled by alcohol and anxiety. “You just got home earlier than I expected; normally I’d have—” He stopped abruptly. Shit. 

“Normally.” It wasn’t a question. Draco’s voice had gone flat, and Harry almost missed the icy anger, because at least that hadn’t been directed at him. “Explain.”

“Draco, please, can we drop it? It’s fine; I’m fine. I’ll heal it in a minute. Just—”

“No, we cannot just drop it.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Draco’s fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His whole body radiated tension, like he was tempted to hit something himself. “You just more or less told me that you get into bar brawls frequently enough that you have a ‘normal’ routine for afterwards! I don’t even know where to begin. Who are you going to bars with that lets you pick fights with strangers? Why are you picking fights in bars with strangers? And when the hell is this happening that I’m not aware of it?! For Merlin’s sake, Harry, we’ve lived together for almost two years. I thought I knew you!”

The comment hit hard, and Harry couldn’t contain his wince. He tried to rub a hand down his face, but grimaced as he bumped his swollen eye. He felt so small. He’d never wanted Draco to know about any of this. “I just… get angry, sometimes,” he muttered. “I go by myself. It’s just… an outlet. I don’t know. It’s never with anyone I could actually hurt. And I can heal myself. It’s just a thing I do. Sometimes.”

When Draco answered, Harry curled further in on himself, hating how distressed he sounded. “I don’t… Harry, why? If you need an outlet, why this? Why not, I don’t know, get one of those Muggle punching bags? Or spar properly, safely?” Harry clamped his lips shut, not wanting to let anything else slip out, but Draco kept going. “Why not come to me? I could have helped.”

Harry mumbled an answer under his breath. 

“What?”

He repeated himself, barely more than a whisper. “It doesn’t happen when you’re here.” He turned just enough to glance at Draco from under his eyelashes and immediately wished he hadn’t. Draco’s brow was furrowed with hurt and confusion. 

“I don’t understand.”

Harry was tired. He was so tired, and so sick of hurting, and just intoxicated enough, still, that he couldn’t think up a plausible way to get out of this—and so he gave up. Maybe Ginny and Luna would let him crash with them for a while, if Draco kicked him out. Or even if he didn’t. Harry was recognizing, as he felt his carefully built walls crumbling around him, that he’d let it go on too long. He should have left before it got this bad. He should have left as soon as he’d realized what he was feeling, what it meant. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around himself.

“I only get angry like that when you go out.”

It was quiet for a moment. Finally, Draco asked, “Why?” 

He sounded truly bewildered, and Harry laughed, except it was more a sob, really, and—fuck—the tears had started to escape. The salt stung his face. “Because it hurts, Draco, why do you think?” Draco didn’t answer. Harry hadn’t expected him to. “You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone you—  Every week, it’s someone new. And it never stops hurting.”

“Harry…”

“You were never supposed to know.”

“Harry.” The voice was closer now, right behind him. A hesitant hand slid up his arm, elbow to shoulder, before grasping gently to turn him. Harry kept his head down, but, once again, those damnably gentle fingers lifted his chin, forcing him to look.

It was like a hazy mirror of the moment when Draco had first seen him—head held still, eyes searching his face, but instead of anger, they held something else, something Harry couldn’t identify. 

“Harry.” The second hand came up, the thumb now wiping away tears instead of blood. Draco’s eyes flitted between Harry’s, still searching, and then he leaned in. Harry was frozen.

As soon as Draco’s lips brushed his, however, Harry snapped out of his daze, quickly turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut against a fresh wave of tears. “Don’t,” he pleaded, and his voice sounded wrecked. “Please, Draco. Not if you don’t mean it.”

Draco’s hands hadn’t left Harry’s face, and they easily guided him back, holding him still until he met Draco’s gaze. “Of course I mean it,” he said, voice shaky but firm.

“But—”

“You said it yourself, Harry. Every week, someone new. They don’t matter. They’ve never mattered. It’s…” And now it was Draco’s eyes welling, Draco’s lids dropping closed to hide his vulnerability, Draco’s voice sounding rough. “It’s just an outlet.” He swallowed and opened his eyes again, watching whatever series of emotions was likely flashing across Harry’s face, now that all his walls had been torn down. “I didn’t think that you. I didn’t—” He traced a thumb under Harry’s eye again, over his uninjured cheek, sliding his hand down the length of his neck and around until he was cupping his nape, but he didn’t lean back in. 

Instead, he waited—hesitantly hopeful—until Harry did.

Also on AO3

(Thanks to @mxmaneater for the beta, and for reassuring me that my angst writing is just fine!)

[rose-colored-amy]

So, this is a continuation to my extremely short one-shot Last Moments, Last Regrets, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Regardless, I'll leave the link of that one in here:

Also, thanks to @coeurhh for suggesting I write a second part. You're a sweetheart 🥰

She made a lovely fanart/gif, which I'm also sharing, of course:

Prompt: AU. Sakura's death goes unnoticed to everyone but the squad she protected with her life and Tsunade. Team Kakashi doesn't find out until the very end, when Naruto and Sasuke have already had their fight, and there's nothing to do about it but mourn the absence.

Warning: Mild Sasusaku and lots of angst. Team 7 sort-of-fluff (?)

—Blue Bird, Let Go—

"Hey, bastard... I know they really let us down, the village, I mean."

"Aa... "

"But I really think it's not all that bad. When we were I team, I knew you understood. It felt like having a brother, believe it."

They were watching their lives go by, shadows of unknown faces passing by them, not noticing their pain, or not caring whatsoever. Their backs were touching, but it was all cold and bleak; a bad memory. A clan slaughtered, a demon sealed. Two lonely boys wallowing in their own sadness.

"Well, even if I don't make it, I'm glad it was you, bastard—"

"Shut up, idiot." His voice sounded strained, even for his standards, but Sasuke was so tired he couldn't even bring himself to care.

"We're really dying, ah? Wanna say something? I do have things to say, 'cause there's no way I'm dying—"

"In silence?" Sasuke interrupted, but Naruto payed him no mind.

"Without telling you how much of an asshole you've been! I couldn't even keep my promise to Sakura-chan! She's gonna be so damn mad when she finds out, I'm sure she'll drag me back to life just to cave my face in—" He was rambling at that point, but it was just so comforting and normal to Sasuke that he didn't even acknowledge it anymore.

"Hn. Sakura... She..."

"She still loves you, asshole. I don't have any idea how it can be possible but—"

"I'm sorry..." It sounded rushed, but Naruto heard it perfectly, and in the darkness of their shared consciousness, Sasuke heard a resigned sigh.

"Well, it's not that bad. I cannot imagine dying beside anyone but you, bastard."

"Idiot..." He made a pause. "Me neither."

"You're both a pair of idiots!"

Suddenly, the unreadable mass of unrecognizable faces around them cleared, and one figure stood in front of them, pink eyebrows frowned in annoyance. Though this version of Sakura looked familiar, it was one none of the boys had seen in a long time. Genin, long-haired, Sakura was glaring at them, arms crossed.

"Sakura-chan! What are you doing in here?!"

Her eyes softened. "What, so I'm supposed to let you two die, after everything? No way in hell!"

"Sakura..."

"You!" She pointed at Sasuke, who flinched slightly at her rudeness. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I don't care. Lighten up and start being your moody self. We love you just like that! Don't act so repented and shit! If you're sorry stop looking like a lost puppy and start doing something about it, you asshole!" Her voice was raising with madness and it was slightly off putting to see what used to be a stuttering lovestruck preteen talking to him like that.

Naruto snorted at that, obviously delighted for not being at the receiving end of her wrath for once. It was short-lived, however.

"And you!" She pointed at the blonde; then crossed her arms. He jumped back in fright. "What is this? How dare you even consider dying after you promised to be the best goddamned Hokage in history?! Here I am, rooting for you, while you lay around like a lazy pig with your edgy bro there. You should be ashamed of yourself!" She scoffed.

Naruto's mouth was so wide open he could have caught a fly. "Lazy pig? Are you kidding?!"

Sasuke raised an eyebrow, half amused, half annoyed. "Edgy?"

Suddenly, the edges of their vision began to blurr, like a genjutsu being unravelled. "Ah, someone came to help you at last." Sakura seemed relieved. Strangely so.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! You know what? You're right. I'll be the best damn Hokage ever, believe it! Just you watch!" He threw a punch to the air.

Seemingly placated and pleased with his answer, she nodded. "I know so." Then, she turned to her other teammate, who was concentrating solely on her face, mismatched eyes softened as they'll ever be. "And you'll make sure he doesn't mess up, right?"

They shared a long silence. There was something strange about Sakura aside her appearance. He could tell. "Hn. I will..."

"Hey! I don't need him watching over—"

"Sure you don't." He countered sarcastically.

"Also..." They turned to her again. "I'm sorry."

"Wha—" Naruto stuttered. "What the hell would you be sorry for, Sakura-chan?! If anything, it's the bastard here who should be apologizing to you!"

"Sakura..." Sasuke seemed to be searching for the right words, but she couldn't let them go without them listening to her. To what she needed them to know. There wasn't much time left after all.

"I'm sorry, because I wasn't what you needed..." She closed her eyes, her pretty minty orbs. Her appearance suddenly shifted, before then now standing her true self, still dressed in the standard shinobi uniform of the alliance. Her forehead protector lost to whoever knows where. "And thank you. You both made me stronger. You made me appreciate what I had. And I'll always, always love you. Our moments together like team seven... I'll treasure them for all eternity."

"Sakura-chan..."

"I know Konoha wasn't the best to you both, but don't forget the good... The wholesome moments. It's all that matters in the end... Our bonds, the bonds you managed to forge with sweat and blood... The world we live in, the world that gave me the chance to meet you. To me, that's to be cherished. Forever."

The white light started overwhelming the rest. Even Sakura's features started dissapearing.

"Live. Just live." For that, she specifically stared at Sasuke, a soft smile playing on her lips. "And thank you."

Sasuke started racing towards her, hand stretched, a forebonding understanding shaking his bones. "Sakura!"

And then, they both lost consciousness.

When they woke up, aside from feeling like shit, the first thing that crossed their minds what the finality of Sakura's words. Tsunade was beside them, patching them up, with Kakashi beside her, silently watching over them.

"About time, brats! What were you think—"

"Baa-san." Naruto interrupted her, his voice the most serious she had heard him until then.

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke finished for him, his eyes icy and detached, trying to keep his worry at bay.

But she didn't need to answer. Her chakra flow hesitated, spiking with sorrow. Her eyes glistening with unbearable loss. Kakashi, at her side, stared, eyes widened in comprehension.

She was gone by a long shot.

And they were just finding out.

...

Everybody had different ways of dealing with loss. Naruto helped rebuild the village along with everyone else, but he skipped his usual meals, his ramen left forgotten in his kitchen counter. His movements when sparring were sloppy at best, not just because of the new prosthetic limb, but also because his mind was clearly somewhere else. Usually, Shikamaru would drag him out his makeship house, like he had done when Jiraija was gone for good. Sometimes, he would bring Ino with him, who was suspiciously skinny and messier than normal. No makeup covering the dark circles under her eyes.

Kakashi spent more than usual at the memorial stone every day, tracing the newly marked name of the girl who once remained him of Rin but that had come to claim a place for herself in his heart. Also, he took more missions than it was allowed in a month, going so far as to pick up his ANBU mask again, which caused an altercation with Tsunade, who hadn't been sober in a long time and had been hoping to hand the Hokage seat to him.

Sai avoided the color pink for a long time.

Sasuke... Well, he dealed with loss the same as everyone else... Longing for the missing person to be there, itching to have the opportunity to say what he couldn't at the time. Wanting to be alone whenever they would reach for him... And he built a tomb for her in hopes to find some closure. Not that official, because there wasn't a body to bury, and it had no name, but it was enough for him. He would bring with him camellias every day, buying them at the Yamanaka's, where Ino would always glance at him in silent understanding.

One morning, on his way to her tomb, he spotted a young shinobi leaving a white lilly for her. When he came by, the child spoke without a care, like they were acquaintances. "This is Sakura-san's, right?"

"Hn." It wasn't really an answer, but the child seemed to understand anyway.

"You know? Mama and big sister are also buried in these grounds... I always talk to them and tell them about my day and stuff I want them to know!" He turned to the Uchiha, a smirk on his cherubic face. "I'm sure she would appreciate it as well." And just like that, he left without another word.

Sasuke sat on the ground, just in front of the stone, mismatched eyes half lidded. Sensing no one in the vicinity, he exaled a shaky breath, and his dam opened up, the words longing to be said broke the silence he had been wrapping around himself since he knew of her death:

"I miss you... I've been missing you since I first left."

[salty-ironstrange-shipper]

Could you maybe post a long-ass list of good ironstrange fics because at this point, there's nothing else to do and you seem like you have great taste

puppets on a string

Summary: Stephen Strange is a villain. But a hot one.

Words: 103,206 (incomplete)

This fic is courtesy of our very own @funkylittlebidiot​, so definitely give it a read!

Find a Way (to break the fall)

Summary: Stephen didn't think about it anymore. It had been buried deep beneath all the other shit he'd had to live through in the last couple of years and it didn't impact his day to day life in any way whatsoever. Until the day it does.

Words: 2,170

This one is short, but emotional and impactful. Warning for discussions of past rape/non-con.

The Brands We Carry

Summary: Tony Stark is almost thirteen years old when he gets ready to settle down to bed one early-early-morning and happens to look in the mirror on his childhood wall and catches sight of a circular brand on the skin above his heart.

“About fucking time,” Tony mutters, and goes to sleep without bothering to tell anybody he just cussed out a baby that’s only just crying its way into its new life somewhere on the planet.

The date is February 17, 1983. Happy birthday, whoever you are. Took you long enough.

Or: Tony Stark and Stephen Strange are soulmates. You'd think that would mean they would be perfect for each other right from the start, but it turns out that their soulbond is a long path of mutual distrust, dislike, and miscommunication. Just their luck.

Words: 10,497

I love a good soulmate au, and this is a good soulmate au. Very interesting look at both characters and also what happens if someone’s soulmate has  a not insignificant age gap (though they only meet in person for the first time as adults)

A Crown of Thorn and Shadows

Summary: Anthony Stark, King of Blood and Darkness, ruler of the Unseelie court, did not expect to find Prince Stephen Strange of the Seelie chained up in his torture chamber, cold iron being driven into his hands. Stephen Strange, a Seelie healer, never dreamed of finding himself in the court of nightmares, being cared for by the king that the Seelie called a monster. They must work together to find the traitors in two Faerie courts that have not spoken in over six hundred years and reclaim Stephen's memories before the courts descend into war once more.

Words: 58,465

Wonderful fantasy au, great worldbuilding and relationship buildup. Lots of fun.

Villain Stephen Strange and His Obsession with Tony Stark

Summary: Just a bunch of prompty oneshots that are partially based but 100% inspired by Tumblr IronStrange Posts. Rated T-M

Words: 1,029

Do I even have to explain it? This is just fun. 

Ten times outta nine, I’m a hand grenade

Summary: Though neither remembered that night, it turns out that Tony Stark and Stephen Strange had first encountered each other years earlier. Unfortunately, that might end up destroying the universe.

Words: 419,141

This is a loooooooooong boi. But oh, it’s a good one. Stephen and Tony basically go back in time, change the universe, and fall in love. It’s everything you could want from them. Complete with romance, angst, drama, and humor.

Where Severus Snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl

Summary: And then, as if he wasn’t already the most embarrassing estranged biological dad ever, Tony stopped in his tracks, raised his sunglasses (because of course he would wear sunglasses inside a lecture hall in April), and gave Professor Strange the most blatant, sustained once-over in the history of fuckboyness.

Then he put down his glasses, shot a winning smile at the teacher, and said, “Well, I’m Tony Stark, of course.”Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.

Words: 2,387

Stephen is a college professor. Peter is his student. Tony is having too much fun with this.

You Remind Me of a Man

Summary: Tony Stark cannot stand the overly opinionated and egotistical Dr. Strange and the feeling is extremely mutual.

Words: 44,788

Perfect no-powers au for them. They’re assholes who fall in love and see another side to each other. It’s amazing, 10/10 would recommend.

I am here

Summary: There’s a technical reason Stephen must surrender the Time Stone to save Tony’s life. It has to be done, and that’s enough for him to do it. But just in case, the universe decides to give him a personal reason as well.

Words: 11,708

This one is so soft. Basically, while looking through time, Stephen keeps showing up in the past at various points throughout Tony’s life. And then they fall in love! Good for them.

T For Tony

Summary: Your soul mark is the first letter of your soulmate's name. Stephen has an 'A'. But he's in love with Tony. Cue anxiety, jealousy, angst.

Words: 2,794

They’re so stupid in this fic. It’s great. It took them so much effort to remember Anthony starts with an A. (I still think this fic should’ve been titled A For Tony, but I didn’t write it, so)

something taken, something new

Summary: The ChronicConnection implement and app allows a person that lives with chronic or illness-induced pain to transfer their burden temporarily to a willing loved one. Tony and Stephen sign up as beta testers.

Words: 14,541.

I must’ve recced this a thousand times ..... AND I’LL DO IT AGAIN. THIS FIC IS THE PERFECT MIXTURE OF SOFT AND ANGST AND IF YOU DON’T READ IT, YOU’RE WRONG.

15 Million

Summary: For every alternate reality there were ten thousand alternate realities from that. And from those ten thousand more. And then ten thousand more off each of those. And so it goes.

The Avengers win once. There’s ten thousand versions of it. 

Stephen Strange doesn’t know what to make of the fact that Tony Stark seems to be *his* victory.

Words: 2,755

Obligatory “Stephen looks through 15 million possible futures and falls in love with Tony in the process fic”. Can’t have a fic rec list without it.

Hero Swap AU

Summary: It's a boring day for the Avengers until Tony Stark attacks.

Words: 17,391.

Just pure, fun crack.

Only a Matter of Time

Summary: Captured by aliens, mistaken for a mating pair, Tony and Stephen find themselves having the universe’s most awkward honeymoon.

Words: 6,056.

Smut. Good smut, though. 

Sunrise in Exile

Summary: Tony does the math and realizes their best chance to save the universe is by... not confronting Thanos on his own turf. 

So he steals a wizard and a spider and a space ship. And he runs.

(Three humans and an A.I in space, the alien friendships they make along the way, and discovering how science and magic might coexist in a universe where they can be one and the same.)

Words: 352,079 (incomplete, has not been updated in a while)

A long fic set during Infinity War where they just ... run away to space. And it’s great.

Rewriting Icarus

Summary: Stephen and Tony, from the beginning to the end and beyond.

Words: 23,504

Pre-powers AU, except they fall in love then get powers. Sad, angsty, beautiful. 

variations on a theme

Summary: Stephen sees into millions of possibilities and finds only one where they win, but he never expected to end up falling in love with Tony Stark in almost every single one of them.

Words: 5,134

Another Stephen looks through the possible futures and falls in love with Tony? ... Guess you can’t have just one. 

Five’s A Party

Summary: It's an orgy fic, I'm not sure what else to say

Words: 2,639

... Not much I can add to that. Magic smut. 

A Lapse in Judgement

Summary: Stephen, the newly minted Sorcerer Supreme, is strong, powerful, and in control of his life in every micromanaged detail, because failure to do so could result in (another) cataclysmic event within the universe. He is. But then Stephen accepts an off-handed offer to spar from Tony Stark – a man who is Stephen’s non-magical equal, a man who Stephen barely sees outside of bi-weekly meetings and the few and far between fight against a villain – and Stark discovers Stephen’s biggest weakness, his most hateful secret that is a deeply fundamental part of Stephen’s psyche.

Except instead of judgement, and horror, and disgust, Stark meets him halfway, and a lapse in judgement turns into a possibility that could change their lives forever.

Words: 22,694

This is the first of a series which was just updated (haven’t finished reading the new part yet, looking forward to it) and is just a really good, surprisingly soft and emotional BDSM series/fic.

Ironstrange Fics and Ironstrange Cinematic Universe

Oh, how did these get here?

Yes, I’m reccing my own work. I’ve written 29 fics and 377,132 words for this ship, I think I’m entitled.

Ironstrange Fics is a collection of every ironstrange fic I’ve written, short, long, sweet, angst, and everything in between. Ironstrange Cinematic Universe (itself responsible for 49% of those 377k words) is my ironstrange rewrite of the MCU specifically. Please read, enjoy, and leave comments, I’m not updating any fics for a couple of weeks and I need the validation. 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 133

Whew. I finally get a chance two queue chapters and add to my buffer! Yayyy me! Kind of long author’s note, feel free to skip to the readmore.

Seriously, though, I managed to only work 5ish hours of OT this week instead of the 25/wk I’ve been clocking the last several weeks. It’s been a ride, for sure. Thank you for bearing with me through this frankly-insane time.

@baelpenrose and I have had more chances to write together in real-time, which considering both our schedules and living 3 timezones apart has been a delightful miracle and I will never take it for granted ever again.

@anotherusrname and @the-raven-fae have been very encouraging of my efforts to work less, which - it turns out - has been a huge concern for oh, my entire family... Sorry I worried you all. :(  I’m trying to do better! Swear I have vacations coming up!

@charlylimph-blog has just been... such a support. She literally texts me every night at 10pm my time to tell me to take my most important medications. Sainted Eldritch Fae cannot be appreciated enough, and somehow I have two.

Final shout outs go to @snickerfritz, @just-a-pastel-bunny, and @eldritchmoths for love-bombing my inbox recently. Seeing anyone speed-run through this story lets me know that I’m not wasting my time.

Don’t forget to check out the podcast!!  AhhhhH! I want to scream in delight each time a new episode is released!

Focus, I told myself, breath coming in short pants. It was easier said than done, with sweat dripping into my eyes while I constantly tried to pay attention to where I was safe to move to without putting myself in the line of fire. Seeing the incoming hit, I ducked and pivoted to my left - 

“Oof,” I grunted as I took a blow to the ribs.  I managed not to be winded or fall, but I was pretty sure something just broke.

A voice taunted me. “You have got to get better at keeping your guard up.”

“I am,” I panted. “My ribs are a lot tougher than my face.” Refusing to be distracted, I jumped back from the next hit and started circling wide.

“And I hit harder than your sister.”

Yeah, well broken ribs are for bitches, I thought to myself. It wasn’t like I hadn’t had a broken rib before. I was fine. Out of reflex more than forethought, I pivoted my leg and bent my knee to absorb the shock of the next hit - this one to the thigh. Grabbing the offending leg, I held tight around the calf with one arm before shoving upwards on the heel with the other, dropping him onto his back.

Unfortunately, the kick to the chin I got as a result also landed me on my back.

Like an exceedingly annoying ninja, Arthur sprang to his feet before holding out a hand to help me up off the floor. “You should have expected that.”

I scowled and rubbed my jaw. “Why am I sparring with you again?”

“Because Tyche’s busy and I’m the only other person willing to actually hit you hard enough to teach you anything.”

Rolling my neck, I tried to relieve some of the tension that was setting in. “It’s not like aliens are going to know Terran hand-to-hand combat,” I pointed out as I took my stance for the next round.  This time, his movement was a lot more fluid, which told me he was going for grappling instead of striking.

The kick I almost took to the face told me that his stance was also a lie.

There wasn’t any time for trash-talking, this time around. I could barely find time to breathe as he aggressively attacked, although I barely managed to avoid him actually touching me.  I wasn’t an idiot - if he got a hold of me, I would be waking up from a forced nap with a sore throat.  However, after what felt like an eternity and was probably only about five minutes, the odds of keeping it up were dwindling.  My heart was pounding in my ears, my lungs were searing with the effort of trying to keep up with it, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that I had enough stamina to outlast him.  The man ran a 5k a day as a warm up.  Even more humiliating, I had spent the entire time running and dodging without even a chance to mount a counter to any of it.

Finally, I was spent.  Every time I tried to raise my hands, they shook so badly that there was no chance of landing a hit, even if I had the opportunity.  My legs were trembling, my knees burned, and the broken rib felt like someone was twisting a hot blade into my side.  Feeling defeated, I dropped my hands and squared my feet up.  The blow to the solar plexus was unsurprising, as was the chokehold he put me in as soon as I doubled over.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time this had happened while sparring with him - or even with Tyche.

I was so frustrated. No matter how much I sparred with either of them, I felt like I hadn’t gained any ground.  The whole point to training so hard was to prove that I actually could defend myself. Councilor or not, the thought that I was going to be shoved in the back of the Archives in the event of an attack was insulting.  Not only that, it was even more insulting than the time I had round-the-clock guards. No one else had to put up with this, why did I?

“Tap out, Sophia,” he warned me.  He wasn’t squeezing yet, but he had his arm locked tightly enough that I couldn’t get my head out.  When I silently refused, he sighed and applied pressure, pissing me off even more.

I’m not helpless, I growled at myself. The anger at myself and the frustration with the situation flooded my mind, and I started pulling against the hold with my legs.

“You’re going to break your neck,” he grunted as he leaned the opposite direction.  I may not have had his stamina, but I could also leg-press nearly five-hundred pounds. He could let go, or lean back, no other options.

Spots were floating in front of my eyes when I felt his posture change, and as soon as I felt it, both my arms swung up.  Assuming I was going to hit his face, he leaned back even further…

Right into the path of my cupped hands, which hit his ears hard enough to bruise both my hands.

“Ow, FUCK!” he shouted, the pain of his ruptured ear drums distracting him just enough that I was able to pull my head free.

As soon as I stood, he reached up to one of his ears, only to pull his hand away and see blood. “Son of a - “ he stopped when he realized what happened. “Huh. That… that is a pretty neat trick.”

Oh, just you wait, I thought to myself.

Sure enough, as soon as he tried to shift his weight for another assault, he stumbled. Trying to compensate, he made it even worse and ended up falling flat on his back.  Dropping his head to the mat in defeat, he splayed his limbs out to try to gain some sense of equilibrium. “Oh that is cool,” he muttered, obviously for my benefit since he couldn’t exactly hear himself.

I managed to get him to his feet and drag him to the corridor as the medical transport arrived - there was no way I was going to try to walk him to a medbay.  Once his eardrums were restored - along with his internal balance - Arthur stood and stared me down. “That was a dirty trick, Sophia.”  Without warning, I was suddenly pulled into a crushing hug. “I am so proud of you.  Do that, a lot of it.”

“Can’t breathe,” I gasped.

He released me, stepping back. “Right. The rib.”

I tried to wave him off. “It’s just a broken rib. I’ll be fine.”

“Medbay.” He gestured around the room. “Stop being stubborn.”

“You’re overreacting - “

“If you trip and fall, which you will, you can puncture a lung.”

“Hasn’t happened yet.”

“It’s been broken all of ten minutes. Medbay. Now.”

I glared at him. “If you think this is the first broken rib I’ve had, you’re insane. It’s not even the fiftieth.”

“Stop reminding me that I can’t go back to Earth and kill someone who is hopefully dead anyway. You made me go to the medbay for some broken teeth after the fight with Jokul. Also, with your luck it’s a miracle you haven’t killed yourself by breathing, and I am not going to be the one who’s next up on Tyche’s shit list. Go. Medbay. Now.”

I opened my mouth to argue again, but was cut off by swearing and Arthur literally just picking me up and dropping me in the closest berth.  With exactly zero shame, he pinned me down by my shoulders and hips while one of Noah’s avatars held me down from the other side and scanned, then healed, my broken rib - both of them, it turns out. Finally, they both let go of me.  “Can I leave now?” I asked petulantly.

“Only if you tell me the eardrum trick so I can figure out how to use it on other species.”

Sliding off the berth and to my feet, I ran a hand through my hair. “Easy. You just cup your hands so there aren’t any cracks between your fingers, like this.” I demonstrated. “And then try to clap your hands through someone’s head, right over the ears. Force of the air ruptures the ear drums, and the trauma reaction kills their spatial sense and balance.” When he tilted his head at the simplicity of it, I shrugged. “Women’s self-defense classes.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “Speaking of women and self-defense, we have got to get you more in the habit of striking and blocking with your legs.  Pretty sure you’d kick like a horse if you tried.”

“If I kick you, I’ll break something.”

“Your legs are a lot tougher than you think - “

“I meant something on you,” I clarified, staring at the ground.

I didn’t look up, but I could hear the savage grin in his voice at what he said next. “Oh, we have got to try this.” When my head snapped up, sure enough, he was smiling. “If you can land a kick on me, I won’t even be mad if you break something. But that’s not what I meant.”

“You want me to test it on someone else?” That wasn’t exactly a better option.

He rolled his eyes. “Maverick literally does calibrations for a living. Pretty sure he’s got something that measures impact force.  Then we do the math from there.”

“I feel like I’m on an episode of MythBusters,” I grumbled as we headed out of the Medbay and back towards my office.

“I know!” he agreed enthusiastically.

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[hotcaramelmachiatto]

Hey! I was wondering if I could request a headcanon with luffy, zorro and Sanji with a s/o who has a Symbiote in them (basically venom) they have caught them giggling to themselves, talking to themselves, and sometimes catching them arguing with no one, how would they react when they ask about this and finally meet venom. (I hope it's not trouble ♥️♥️)

Oh my goodness!! No trouble at all! I'm kind of excited about this crossover, this is gonna be fun! You didn't specify any gender preferences so I went with gender neutral, hope that's OK!

Luffy x GN! Symbiote!reader

Zoro x GN! Symbiote!reader

Sanji x GN! Symbiote!reader

Warnings: a couple mild swears

__________________

Luffy

I feel like Luffy would be really confused but not really mind or notice the little giggles and whispers to yourself. He'd think its super cute and weird

Totally picks on you for it even though he has no clue what its about or what it means

Luffy is really honest and straight forward. Never beats around the bush. So the way I imagine Luffy meeting your Venom (so to speak) would be him jumping right in during one of your conversations with them like

"Venom! You need to relax. I know you want chocolate but we ran out already!"

"Yeah Venom! I ate it all. Also, who's Venom?"

So cute and innocent when he asks you. Literally no judgment, just curious. Just kinda walked in while you were talking and joined the convo

Totally spooked you but Venom just kinda gets mad at there being no chocolate

You cannot convince me otherwise:

"EWWWW Y/N!!! THERES A BUG ON YOU!!! Hold still, lemme squash it!!!"

"NOOOO!!! LUFFY THATS VENOM DONT HURT THEM!!!"

Even after explaining what's going on between you and Venom he completely has no idea what's going on. You literally explained it in the simplest of ways and he has no clue

"You have a worm on you." "That's Venom." "Yeah, a worm."

"APOLOGIZE"

That being said, he takes the whole thing really well. He kind of just thought you had a weird devil fruit power.

He and Venom would either get along well or fight over everything. They'd steal each others meals at dinner once Venom starts making an appearance to the rest of the crew

If it was supposed to be a secret, no it wasn't

All in all, he'd support you just like he supports all his Nakama. And Venom becomes his Nakama since Venom is a part of you!

Zoro

He was napping against the railing of the ship, as usual, when he sees you talking to yourself in the corner.

Initial reaction: wtf?

He just kinda let's it go. None of his business

When it starts happening more and more and he sees you straight up arguing with nothing he gets kind of concerned

Wouldn't really know how to bring it up delicately so he literally just asks you

"What the hell are you doing?"

You'd probably have to explain it in words less than two syllables as well or he won't get it either

I low key see him being mildly curious about the strength and durability of Venom. Probably would want to train with them but wouldn't actively search for that

He does keep an eye on you and your symbiote a lot more when you are in a fight. He just enjoys seeing you and them destroy your opponents and how strong you are

He and Venom dont really interact much but there's a mutual understanding of if one hurts Y/n the other will kill them

If you two and Zoro ever spar Zoro and Venom will have an absolute blast. Literally. Everything is destroyed and both of them are still going at it

All in all, Zoro is also chill with it. He is accepting. Probably has drinking matches with Venom to see who can hold their liquor better

Sanji

Sanji is too blinded by he absolute devotion for you and how cute you are to notice the odd tendencies

Or rather, he notices but thinks its just an odd little quirk of yours and doesnt mention it

That is, until he catches you sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night with this big black goo looking thing with spikey teeth hanging off your shoulder

Eating all his food

He needed those strawberries!! The ladies wanted strawberry shortcake for breakfast!!!

Completely ignored you and tried to kick the shit outta Venom.

"GET OUTTA MY KITCHEN YOU PARASITE!!"

"PARASITE?!?! APOLOGIZE!!!"

He absolutely hates Venom. They obscure your lovely skin and make it more difficult to see your figure!

But at the same time they accentuate a lot of your natural figures and shapes so he is sort of torn in half

Also, Venom eats everything. All the time. Worse than Luffy!!

Luffy more or less has a limit to how he stretches when he eats. Venom is an actual black hole. Eats everything, cooked or uncooked

Venom will peak their little head out on your shoulder while you wait in the kitchen and watch Sanji cook

And then steal the ingredients like an actual child

His hand has been caught in the cookie jar a lot

Sorry, that's a lot. He takes Sanji's food a lot. Ero-cook is no pleased

He also doesn't like another creature spending more time with his previous Y/n-swan than him

So jealous of that symbiote. He wants to spend that much time with the lovely Y/n but cannot

They get to feel Y/n's skin!!! All the time!!! (And be inside them lol)

All in all, Sanji will love and support you. He dislikes Venom but puts up with him. He at least will eat everything so there will never be any leftovers or food that goes uneaten. Even if its questionable in terms of freshness.

Oh my. I hope this was good! I had fun writing it and I hope I did you some justice! Feel free to request anything anytime! :)

[luna-helps-writing]

Could I please get an Lotr and The Hobbit Matchup?

☘️ 18yo Woman // Bisexual // Autistic and Disabled

☘️ I really love Mythology (Worldwide), Gardening, Home Remedies and Superstitions, Biology, Witchcraft and the Arts. I hope to begin crafting things like Jewelry, Weapons and Kilts, possibly even making a business out of them. I am also an avid writer and like to draw.

☘️ I’m interested in Witchcraft, such as working with Deities and Spirits, and performing magic that helps me and others. The first spell I ever performed was a healing spell for a sick friend, and not thirty minutes after I finished it, I got a text saying he felt a lot better, so I guess it must’ve worked!

☘️ Because of my Autism, I can be rather shy or quiet and quite blunt. I like explaining and teaching people things. I’m very polite but I have been known to go off when pushed enough. I’m also a bit of a trickster, unpredictable and wise in an unconventional way. I have the personality of “I never start shit, but I always finish it”. When you get to know me, I actually have a really good sense of humor and a spunky personality, but it can get buried under the nervousness a lot. I also have a strong sense of duty to others, I’m very protective over fellow misfits and am always kind and polite to those I deem worthy of it. I’m very conflict averse, but when I’m deeply upset enough, I go for the throat.

☘️ I am very short, with a fluffy mane of brown hair, blue eyes, crooked glasses, and pale skin with lots of scabs and moles all over it. I love to wear skirts, especially my red hand-me-down kilt, but that doesn’t limit my tomboy attitude at all

☘️ I have the bizarre ability to attract and befriend random animals. So far, I’ve befriended a stray cat named Diablo, a dog named Hans, a backyard snake, my pet rat Canoli, and a young horse named Fileo. People tell me that animals like me because I have “good vibes” and am very close with nature

☘️ I LOVE going outside and getting messy. Playing in the mud, getting soaked in the rain, I’m the type to go outside and come back home covered in dirt and twigs. It’s just really fun to me.

☘️ I have a habit of giggling to myself just by remembering something funny that happened, even if it was a couple years ago. I also laugh when I do something stupid, because I find my flaws and shortcomings funny for the most part. I love to laugh with people, but never at them. I never take myself too seriously, and I have a pet peeve for others who take themselves and silly things too seriously as well

☘️ My closest friends say I give off “Dwobbit” vibes. That’s a ½ Dwarf and ½ Hobbit btw. I’m around 4’ 10” tall, I don’t shave, I love crafting and art, I live in the Mountains, I’m tomboyish but I also love gardening and can be a bit of a homebody, I love going barefoot, etc.

☘️ I’m basically like a tiny, less-impressive Aragorn. I love travelling on foot, getting messy outside, I was kind of a Horse Girl as a kid ngl, I’ve always wanted to be a knight or king of some sort, chances are that I haven’t bathed in awhile, and I too would pine for a hot elf girl for literal years on end.

Sorry this description is so long, I hope you don’t mind! Thanks so much dear! 🤗🎉💕

Don’t worry about the long description! Thank you for your ask!

For the hobbit, I ship you with Fili!

• Personally, I believe that Fili would go absolutely crazy for witchcraft. His reaction at Tauriel when she healed Kili said enough for me.

• He would have no trouble helping you with your jewelry or weapons. It’s basically his expertise and he loves teaching you all about it!

• Your autism doesn’t bother him at all. He knows how to help, but he also knows exactly when to let you be. Comments that sometimes slip out seems normal to him, as he grew up with a brother who might’ve had the same issue....

• Often takes walks with you. You’ll go anywhere and everywhere. Sometimes, when he feels bold, he’ll launch at you, pushing you into the mud or into the water. Not that you mind. You drag him with you before he can take a step back!

• Your laugh might yet be one of his favorite things. There’ll be times when the two of you are sitting quietly and you suddenly let out a giggle. He cannot help but smile at you and join your laughter, even if he has no idea what’s so funny.

• And last, but very not least, he is an amazing caretaker. He will join you in fun activities, but he will know when and where to draw a line. He’ll remind you to take baths, and if you decline, he’ll probably propose to join you.

For Lord of the Rings, I ship you with Aragorn!

• This sweetheart barely knows any life outside the wilds. Traveling with you would be amazing for him! He’ll show you the prettiest places in Middle-Earth and introduce you to the greatest animals to walk around. (To which you interact with in a great way, much to his surprise.)

• He himself knows a thing or two about home remedies and biology, but your witchcraft takes him by surprise. Sure, he has seen it before, but now he personally knows someone who is great at it!

• It is absolutely no surprise that traveling with a ranger can get messy at times, but you don’t mind at all. Sometimes, he’ll just brood off into the distance and you’ll throw something at him like a pinecone or a piece of mud. He sees this as an immediate challenge and will not stop chasing you until you surrender.

• Aragorn loves how blunt you are. Sometimes, you can’t help it, but he won’t mind the comments at all. He appreciates them. There are multiple times where you’re very shy, but he’ll stand up for you, urging the person to talk to him and not to you.

• He teases you a lot about your laughing. There will be times where you suddenly laugh, and he’ll imitate you, which makes you laugh even harder.

• The two of you together are a great combo! He is there to help when you need it, while you do the exact same for him, because even our favorite ranger sometimes needs help, though he will not confess it.

My second choice was Éowyn, but Aragorn seemed a better fit to me.

• Often play fights with you. It’s great for your entertainment and great for her sparring experience.

• Seems like a sweetheart, but if anyone dares mock you, you can count on her to rain hellfire upon that person. You will definitely need to calm her down.

• Might he the most blown-away person by your witchcraft. She will buy you all sorts of gifts to help you. Sometimes she’ll bring something that you don’t really need, but you appreciate it nonetheless and proudly display it.

• LOVES HEARING ABOUT MYTHOLOGY. Before you go to bed, the nights are spend by you telling Éowyn stories. It could be about anything, but she is all ears. She even has a little notebook where she writes the things down you say. It’s truly adorable.

I hope it was to your liking! Have a great day and stay safe please❤️

[prophetparadox]

DMC OC Week Day 5: Weapon/Abilities

Okay, it’s way past midnight, but here’s my next piece for @dmc-oc-week​! This is actually likely going to be a scene I write in my upcoming fic, so if this gets repurposed don’t be surprised. I didn’t have a chance to really edit this, I kinda rushed getting it done, so I’ll go back and do it proper when I get the chance. This is probably more focused on her weapon Fenrir than it is on her abilities, but oh well. I tried. Also enjoy the subtext with Kay and V, I couldn’t help myself.

“If we’re to be working together in the passing month, it would be best if I knew your skills in battle.” V explained as the pair walked into a basketball court. Kay followed behind him, already grabbing her axe in preparation to use it.

“I guess that makes sense. We’re gonna be here for a month, so we should know how to work together,” she said. She looked down at the ground, very interested in her shoes. “Though, I’m a bit out of practice when it comes to killing demons.” Sure, she’d practiced with Lady and Trish, but it wasn’t the same thing as being out there fighting for real.

The cold chill of metal pressed against her chin, V’s cane tilting her head up to look at him. He was giving her that smirk again. “Your efforts in the Qliphoth last night say otherwise. The way you held yourself, I would not have guessed that you hadn’t fought in a while,” he said. Was he just saying that though? She wanted to believe otherwise, his tone seemed to indicate he was genuine at least. “Regardless, it would not hurt to show me your abilities.”

“But there’s no demons here to fight. How am I supposed to show you what I can do?” she asked.

V twirled his cane in his hands. “I’d be happy to be your sparring partner,” he said. “It’ll allow us to keep the situation...controlled. Do not worry about harming me, I will be guarding against your attacks and dodging them. There is no need to hold back, Little Wanderer.” His words were reassuring. It wasn’t as if she doubted him, but the idea of trying to land blows on him left a bad feeling in her chest. But if he could handle it then…

“Alright. I can do that,” she said. She faced the man before her, extending Fenrir’s handle and turning it into a two-handed weapon. “But I won’t go easy.”

V grinned back at her, sending out Griffon and whispering something to him. The demonic bird flew away to who knows where, probably to make sure no demons would interrupt them. “By all means, come after me with all your strength.”

And with that, Kay ran forwards, swinging her axe and finding it collided with the cane. She tried a few more swings, approaching from different angles and directions and being blocked each time. Not that she was upset he was blocking her attacks, she didn’t want to hurt him in the slightest. She stepped backwards, figuring it was time to try another approach. Fenrir’s handle shortened as she switched to one hand. If long range wasn’t doing anything, maybe getting up close would work.

Running back up to the poet, she leapt forward at him and tried to swing down. Once again, he blocked it in the nick of time. She landed behind him and attempted to swing, only for him to quickly dodge to the side with the help of Shadow. Before she had the chance to attack again, she saw V prepare to swipe and jumped backwards. That was unexpected. “Hey, you didn’t tell me you were gonna strike back!” she said with a grin.

“It would be rather one-sided if I didn’t attempt to hit you back, would it not?” he asked, grinning back at her. “Dodging is just as important as attacking.” He made a good point. She was just glad he wasn’t being serious and using the familiars. Though perhaps he decided they would give him an unfair advantage? No matter. She just had to keep trying.

As she went back in, V assessed her movements and strategies. It seemed she had different moves depending on the axe’s length. The handle's ability to extend gave her the choice of fighting up close or at a distance, and it didn’t seem to affect the weight of the weapon at all. That or any weight difference was something she was used to compensating for. She also seemed to be using the Devil Arm alone, the pistol she had still remaining holstered. Either her fighting style was primarily geared towards the axe, or she felt that using the gun wouldn’t affect much in this battle. He was rather curious why she was only swinging at him and not using the axe’s other abilities. Perhaps she wasn’t aware of them? He would have to ask her afterwards.

Then there was her agility. She hadn’t been hit by any of his counterattacks, either blocking them or jumping out of the way. She still stumbled with unexpected moves, but she managed to avoid getting hurt. She was making some mistakes, but he chalked it up to less experience. It wouldn’t be fair to compare her to Dante after all. Given enough time, she could become a skilled huntress. She simply needed the chance to bloom, and perhaps he could help her there.

The two swiped at each other, the sound of metal clanging against each other echoing through the empty space. From the corner of his eye, he could see Griffon perched on a nearby building. He didn’t dare to glance over at him, lest he alert Kay to the demon’s presence. There was one last thing he wanted to assess.

“Enough,” he said, holding out his hand. “I believe that should do for now. I must say, I’m impressed, Little Wanderer.”

Kay lowered her axe, her eye lighting up from the praise. “R-Really? You think I’m good?” she asked.

“You could use some work, but yes. I cannot see why you put so little faith in your abilities, you have quite the potential.”

Kay laughed nervously, suddenly unable to look V in the eyes and taking more interest in her boots. “Um, t-thank you! That means a lot coming from you!” she stammered. Oh how he enjoyed how cute she became, but now wasn’t the time to focus on such a thing.

Giving a simple nod, he signaled Griffon to make his move. The demonic bird quietly made his way to dive towards Kay while she was distracted. If he was correct, Griffon should be in her blind spot. Regardless of what happened to her right eye there shouldn’t be any way she could see him coming, especially with her focus lying elsewhere. But she managed to surprise him.

Before Griffon could get too close, Kay ducked down and rolled to the side, her leg hitting the bird and kicking him into the wall instead. V didn’t expect that.

“What the hell?!” Kay shouted at the familiar. “What were you trying to do there?! I could tell you were there, you oversized chicken nugget!”

She saw him coming? No, perhaps she sensed his demonic presence? Either way, that managed to tell him that despite her eye being hidden she wasn’t in danger on her right side. He’d been concerned her potential disability would hinder her, but he was glad to be proven wrong.

“That was impressive,” he said, walking towards her. Better to distract her from Griffon for now. “You are full of surprises, Little Wanderer.”

She turned back towards him. “Oh no, I doubt that. I’m nothing special, really.”

The urge to argue otherwise flared within him, but he pushed it back. He had a few more questions to ask. “What else can that weapon of yours do, if I may ask?”

“I, um, don’t actually know,” Kay responded. “Dante says it’s got some kind of power to it, but I don’t know how to unlock it.”

Ah, so that explained it. “Focus on your weapon, try to draw out its latent abilities. You’ve been using it for so long that I’m certain it recognizes you as its master.” he instructed.

Kay blinked, taking the axe into her grip. “Focus on it...okay. Show me what you can do, Fenrir.” she muttered, gripping the handle tight as she stared at the axe in deep concentration. If she just kept focusing, surely it would…

With a sheen, a set of small pointed blades appeared on the head of the axe. Wait a second, this almost looked like… Deciding to test her hypothesis, she turned the end of the handle and heard a revving sound. After a few more experimental turns, the axe roared to life and began to loudly hum as the small blades moved around the axe heads. She was right.

Kay let out a laugh. “Holy shit, I have a chainsaw axe! I can’t believe I never tried this before!” She swung the axe around to get a feel of it. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna have fun with this.” she said, nearly hitting the now recovered Griffon!

“Hey, hey, hey! Watch where you’re swinging dat thing!” he screeched.

“How ‘bout you watch where you’re flying?” Kay countered.

V smiled at the sight. Why Dante hadn’t tried to train her properly he still didn’t understand, it was clear she had the power within her. “And you said you were nothing special,” he said. “Not just anyone can wield a Devil Arm with such ease,” He pointed his cane at her axe. “And yet here you are, unleashing its full power without breaking a sweat. It makes me wonder what else you might be hiding, what hidden strength lies within you.”

The joy in her expression vanished. “Well, if there’s anything lying in me, then I sure don’t know about it,” she said. She was clearly lying, she couldn’t hide the worry in her voice. It was clear to him that she had something more deep within her, a trace of demonic power lying deep within her very being. It was faint, but it was there. And it too could be cultivated with practice. If unlocked to its full potential, it was possible she could even use some form of Devil Trigger, though the chances were slim at best. Still, it was clear that she didn’t want to dive into the subject, and he would not press her. Best to let her tell him of her own choosing, if he could gather enough trust from her to do so. “But maybe you can see something I don’t?”

He’d broach the subject another time. “Perhaps so.”

The ground rumbled underneath them as a booming could be heard in the distance. The Qliphoth roots were beginning to spread, it’d only be a matter of time before the city would be covered with them. They had to move. “It would appear our little training session must come to an end,” V stated, making his way towards the exit. “Though perhaps we can find some...fodder for your new power.”

Kay just smirked back at him, holding Fenrir in her hands. “Oh now I’m excited, I need to see how this thing works on demon flesh!” she exclaimed. She ran past him out of the basketball court and back onto the streets. “Come on, what’re we waiting for? I wanna break this baby in and see what it can do now!”

V couldn’t help but smile, her enthusiasm was rather infectious it seemed. They’d have to find some demons fast. “Then let us make haste. After all, there’s bound to be some pests around that need exterminating.”

[sarenhale]

Out of curiosity, do you have any ships for the Silver Snakes? If you do, could you name them and elaborate on why you like them? I love your art style btw it just looks so smooth to me!

I do, IN FACT!!!! I wonder if you mean couples within the silver snakes only (oc x oc) or with fe3h canon characters as well? Well, I’ll write about both and the ideas I have here... brace yourself, It’s gonna be a long ask cause you unleashed my love for couples....

Nicolai and Leon is one of my faves, basically brother in arms that become closer as time passes. Nicolai can’t socialize and deal with people for shit so having someone like Leon that has a very sunny and patient personality around is very comforting. Plus Leon has a lot of energy and will to live, and with time manages to... uh... maybe influence Nicolai with it a little? Or, at least, grab his skinny ass when he’s about to sacrifice himself in battle AGAIN and save him. Nicolai has an ardent desire to die and Leon is just not gonna let him, you know? When war starts Leon promises him he’ll bring him to his village in Dagda to meet his family.... and then when war is over they move there and fuck off forever, living in peace for the rest of their days. Nicolai finally has the opportunity to be who he wants and not have to pass down his crest or being haunted by his family legacy anymore.

Nicolai and Kristjan, they’re both very quiet and not exactly socially adapt, but that’s kind of what they enjoy from eachother, the possibility to just enjoy eachother’s presence without pressure or having to talk/break the silence. Incredibly enough, I think that when confronted with another shy person, Nicolai would be the one to step up and be more protective and supportive. I think that this relationship would bring out the protective / chivalrous side in him..... yeah....... I don’t know I just imagine how quiet, peaceful and swee those times would be 

Nicolai and Bernadetta, reject humanity, return to being social recluse... I feel like they have similar personalities and kinda vibe together well, after of course the trials and tribulations of Bernie trying to escape everytime she sees him because she thinks Nicolai is the spectre of death that was sent to kill her or something. But that just adds to the fun part of it and ridicolousness of the couple edhjfcghjdgfh. Plus Nicolai likes reading edgy poetry and novels so he would be really supportive of Bernie’s books. 

Nicolai and Sylvain... hee hoo you know me, I do enjoy a sprinkle of Sylvain content here and there... basically Sylvain is the only one from Blue Lions that doesn’t hate him after they discovered the Haandrastsz family had a part into killing Dimitri’s father. The Haandrastsz family terriroties were also near the Gautier's, so they knew eachother when they were little. (I cannot escape the childhood friends trope I am sorry) After the war, before rejoining with the other Silver Snakes, Nicolai retires to Sreng (where him and his uncle were exiled to by the Kingdom) and stays there, commanding a small army and gaining the trust/leadership of the local warlords. One time he leads an attack on Gautier territory and Sylvain is like ‘Oh hey Nico- HEY WHAT THE FUCK’  And I don’t know... I just think it’s kinda funny... Also Sylvain is the only one in Blue Lions from the original group of childhood friends that doesn’t really... judge people for who they are, you know (that’s why I love him), so it feels realistic that he wouldn’t think less of Nicolai for what his family did. Knowing the guy, he would probably try to find a peaceful solution to the situation, and even if Nicolai usually doesn’t give a shit about people, he would be like “Yeah okay I GUESS I can try talking to Sylvain instead of just brutally murdering him”. So yeah, the sheer contrast between personalities, and the similar trauma from crests/ families... I just think it makes for a cool combo.

Cassandra and Esther, another one of my fave couples, Esther grew up in poverty in the Empire’s capital and hating nobles for the huge power imbalance in Fòdlan, so seeing Cassandra’s objective to completion is one of the most important things in her life. Despite the big differences in their upbringing, they discovered that they shared a lot of things in common, and felt very comfortable and safe in the company of the other. Cassandra always felt like an outcast even between her family, so she finds Esther’s point of view on life very important and close to her heart. Cassandra loves how much of a free spirit she is, and wants to eventually be free and feel like she’s allowed to be herself, two things she can really experience when she’s with her. Esther’s story is part of why Cassandra feels like she needs to succeed and bring a change to Fòdlan, and made a promise to her that if she ever loses sight of her original dream and becomes yet another swayed ruler, Esther has to kill her  👀  Also, that good old “ruler and their right hand” kind of ship... you know? 

Cassandra and Mithra, another good ruler and their right hand ship... Mithra has trust in Cassandra as a leader and person, and is willing to do anything to help her achieve her dream! I think Mithra is a very silent person that doesn’t share her feelings and emotion easily because she’s always on high guard, expecting an attack from every direction, and focused on her duty almost too much to allow herself to be human and not only a soldier. That why it’s really cute when i think about how she would open up and eventually fall in love... YEAH

Cassandra and Sayid, this is a bit of a ‘what if’ kind of ship because Cassandra is gay, so I see this couple as more of a “platonic soulmates” kind of situation. Sayid and Cassandra’s relationship is one of my favourites because it starts from childhood friends, then changes to rivals, to frenemies, and then grows to trusted friends who will never be able to leave eachother. Cassandra was promised to marry one of Sayid’s older brothers when she was little, so he often jokes about how Sayid lost to his brothers even to that. (”Yes, but I was the one that had the honor to be right next to you” he would probably reply) They are eachother’s most trusted person, and Sayid grows from wanting Cassandra’s spot as leader and thinking she is inadequate to the role to being her most trusted advisor, that wholeheartedly supports her. It’s mostly the growth of the relationship that does it for me.

Mithra and Dedue...OKAY No joke I made Mithra Duscurian also because so Dedue could have a friend from the same country... so they can share Duscur stories and culture. Mithra left Duscur when she was little so she feels like she’s missing a part of her culture, and I just feel like her supports and relationship with him would be an amazing opportunity to both expand more on Duscurian culture and allow both to enjoy their home country and bond over it! And then maybe at the end of the war they can move back to what’s left of Duscur and start to rebuild together. 

Mithra and Felix, this is a bit of weird one, especially because of Felix’s shitty views on Duscur, but I’m mostly looking at the promise for a good character development and how cool an idea of a ‘warrior couple’ is. They start off as sparring partner, Mithra shares Felix’s dedication for battle and training, so they often find eachother at the training grounds until they start to train together. They develop a kind of friendly rivalry over wanting to beat the other, and being the two strongest students at the monastery. Felix gets his ass handed to him a couple of times, and his mental process is ‘holy shit how > fuck you > groagrhaprfgakdfgh > okay but she’s strong, I can learn from her if i continue to fight her’ to eventually respecting her skill and position. Mithra recognizes his strenght and unparalleled ability on the battlefield, but comments on his lack of teamwork and how fighting alone and not following orders is going to get him killed someday. (Being that she’s lived her life in the military, diligence is a very important value- and a way of life to her) Their rivalry/competition translates to keeping the other safe in battle (”you’re not allowed to die before I beat you” kind of deal) and eventually... uh... wow... emotions???

Sayid and Ferdinand, dhsgchdgsh To be honest this is boys being fancy and bisexual... They do share some values and morals, Ferdinand’s view on nobility are akin to Sayid’s, even though Sayid is a bit more like ‘earning what you and your family have’ rather than simply inheriting a role. I do like that they mirror eachother by being a leader’s right hand man, and growing their rivalry into a frienship with them, so I feel like they’d have that in common, and some interesting conversations could spark from that! Plus yeah have I mentioned fancy bisexual boys...

Leon and Hilda, okay this one too is like... nothing too deep stort wise, I just feel that they’d be such a cute good couple?? Mostly because of how they both have sunny personalities and how Leon would indulge Hilda and protect her... and they also give me some big domestic vibes?

Esther and Annette is just... listen... I don’t know exactly why I can see the two of them so well together, I just think their personalities would align really well and would lead up to some really cute support conversations and eventually relationship...

Kristjan and Linhardt is an interesting couple because while I think they have similar interests on magic/ crest studies, they have very opposite personalities. I like that Lin is very blunt and unapologetic about his interests and peculiar way of life, while Kristjan feels like even his presence is a bother and something he needs to apologize about. I think they could bond over their shared interests (you know Lin wouldn’t resist to analyze the peculiar crest situation Kristjan has going on) but also count as interesting opposites to eachother. Lin would definitely be a positive influence over how insecure Kristjan is, and have a role in him accepting himself. Also.... cute nerdy boyfriends who love to read and study together??? Yeah...

Kristjan and Lysithea another cute couple, but this time based on how interesting it would be to see them interact and talk about their similar stories with crest experiments. I feel like they would both benefit from being able to talk honestly about the trauma and experience of it all. And I also like that two individuals that feel like their life is not in their hands anymore- CAN grow and create their own life together.

Kristjan and Olympia is... one of the first couples I thought about back when I created the silver snakes! I really like how they’re polar opposites (again) and how well they mesh together. One of the consequences of the experiments done on Kristjan is that he can channel the power of his crest stone to enhance his abilities, and eventually, also to get really physically strong for a short moment of time. I imagined that it would be really cool and unexpected if the one person that managed to beat Olympia in a duel is in fact not even someone who’s an expert with physical combat! Olympia  is a very romantic and affectionate person, and I just really like the idea of Kristjan being showered with the love he deserves. (Plus I love the ship dynamic of mage/studious male character with strong/warrior female character a lot AHAH)

Olympia and Lorenz are... there to be fancy, cute and gorgeous together?? Despite some parts of his ideologies (that luckily he works and grows on), Lorenz’s ‘romantic’ idea of chivalry is very fascinating at the eyes of Olympia, and he kind of represents the idea of the ‘knight in shining (purple with roses) armor’ that she always looked for! They also both love fashion, art, drinking tea and little things like that... and I, AGAIN, love the idea of a couple where the woman is the strongest in the relationship dhgchjdsgcdsh There’s something really cute and powerful about her living her romantic fantasy with someone.

Olympia and Dorothea... JUST GALS BEING PALS... or not. They’re bisexuals together. I think they’d start to bond over Olympia’s idea of romance and research for someone that could beat her in a duel/ win her heart, and eventually really come close due to their experiences in dating/ finding out what they really want from love and relationship. And then they find that together!!!

I think you could sum up the types of couples I like with ‘similar personalities’ and ‘complete opposites’ AHAHAH It’s something that intrigues me with people in real life too! I discovered I tend to feel as fascinated by people that are similar to me, as much as people who are really different from me. This was a LOOONG response, but I loved to think about these couples and write down their dynamics! I hope you’re ready for a very detailed and long response! Thanks again for the compliments on my art and for asking about my babies <3

[salvejoon]

A Belated Lovely Post

As per usual, I am late to the party. Over the past few days I’ve had the honor of being tagged in lovely people’s posts. I am so happy to have you guys in my life. I am so thankful for this community. 

As such, I think I should write my own sappy post and mayhaps cry while doing so. 

2020 was a... Weird year. It wasn’t bad nor good. It was just... A year. I had so many plans that had to be cancelled because of Ms. Rona, plans that would have enriched my life. So instead of those, I worked. I simply just worked, had my ups and downs with friends, I even lost some, gained some. My love life is as boring as ever. I saw death come collect too many people this year, people that I loved and cared about and it all began with my grandfather, may you rest in peace, you stubborn man. 

Other than that, I feel as if I simply just existed. I was floating through the year 2020. Few things highlighted my year but one of those things was BTS, this fandom and you guys. 

As always, to my dear followers. I cannot stress the happiness you give me. You matter, each and everyone of you. I hope that we can enjoy this new year together. 

To all my moots. No matter for how long we’ve been moots, have talked or not, know that I love you and support you. I see all the hard work you put into your works, whether it be gifs or pieces of fiction and you are all doing so amazing. The creativity of this fandom is... Mind-blowing. 

There’s a select few people that have stood out from the crowd though. 

So to @cremeandsuga 

As have been stated many times throughout this year, you are my babby. I wish I could just take you away and put you into my pocket. Whenever something bad happens in your life, I am saddened by the fact that I am not able to be there physically and give you a hug and a kiss on the forehead. I hope that one day, I will be able to make good on my promise of taking you out for brunch. 

To @babybinnyboy

My unwilling sparring partner, the one who always answers first when I am in need of direction or need help with a fic. You listen to me bumble and babble. The one who graces us with her beauty. The one I can spam sims content with. I am so glad I found you, Dez. You give me so much, every day, and I love you for that.

To @thejooncrew

aka the consistent pain in my ass. You can be so unbelievingly annoying. On God, you are like my annoying younger sibling whom I just want to 🤬👊 sometimes but that I also love with my whole heart and left buttcheek. Buc, you truly have no idea how much joy you bring into my days. With your random shit, your short au’s, our stupid fights over Namjoon, us cursing at each other. I love you.

To @bloodgrass17

Amy, you sweet girl. Even though we’ve known each other for a short time, there is no questioning my love for you. You are so caring and kind and it warms my heart. I know I can always count on you and you’ll be there to lend me a shoulder.

To @ironicarmy

Miss Lau. Upon first entering tumblr, your fics were some of the first ones that I read. Since then I admired you from afar because you are so talented. Then you joined Namsluts and the rest is history. Even though we are now friends, I’m still a huge admirer.

To @sombreboy

aka the handsomest and goodest boi (next to Jimin). Min Min, the joy that is you... Our friendship has certainly had it’s golden moments last year. The skidmark incident for example, which still sends me into orbit with laughter. You are such a wonderful human being. You can make me laugh harder than anyone with your dumbassery. You can be so cute it makes my heart go boom boom. You can also be a huge pain in my ass but can you really call someone a real friend if they can’t piss you off?? I don’t believe so. Anyway, I love you, jackass and am looking forward to many more golden moments in 2021.

To @hauntedlilies

M, you are my soulmate in thirst. Fellow sister in thirst. But you are also kind and sweet and supportive and I know I can always count on you to cheer me up. Stay on slaying, you talented Queen.

Now a collective message to the Namsluts: 

Ladies, the joy and happiness that you bring me cannot be put into words. There is no words in any language that can describe the love I have for all of you. I am truly blessed. You have become a steadfast pillar in my life, one that I know I can lean on for support, encouraging words and love. We hype each other up like it’s nobodies business. I am so proud of each and every one of you. Keep on shining bright, my babies. I’ll be there every step of the way to pick you up if you need it. 

Yours Truly, 

Iggy

[arukou-arukou]

A Non-zero Chance

I jumbled the timeline as I was writing this. Just go with it, okay? For @stevetonygames prompt Fluff: Sparring, for team angst. Also adding fic non-linear and tropes: soulmates. Angst with a hopeful ending. Mentions of sex acts. Canon typical violence. There is a read more line after the first section.

 Many many months after that faithful day in Sibera, Tony returned to the scene of the crime. The site was untouched. He hadn’t told Ross about it, and apparently T’Challa had decided well enough was better left alone. The holes they’d put into the bunker of the facility had completely covered over in frost and ice, and Tony had to wonder how Zemo had even dug the little hillock out in the first place. Though there had been a snowcat parked outside when they all first arrived. Without any care, though, it had once again faded into the arctic surroundings. Only someone who knew what they were looking for would find it.

Tony broke in through the holes rather than the front door. He wasn’t really in a mood for digging, and as satisfying as it might be to melt snow with an overloaded repulsor, this mission was also supposed to be stealth and secretive, and he didn’t really need Ross any further up his ass.

Inside, the evidence of their fight wasn’t as big or horrifying as he remembered. There were some structures that had toppled, and a few spots where he’d scorched cement with a repulsor, but it didn’t look nearly as bad as he remembered it being. The Avengers had certainly done worse elsewhere. Tony ran his hand over a shield-shaped crack in the wall.

—

 “This is ridiculous, Cap, we need to know how to fight together, not fight each other.”

Steve smiles back over his shoulder. His ridiculously broad shoulder. “After Wanda mind-whammied us, I’m not taking any chances. We should all know how to incapacitate each other just as a precaution.”

“Only incapacitate, Steve? Not maim?”

Steve chuckles and starts strapping on boxing tape. “No maiming on the docket today. Maybe next Tuesday.”

 —

 Tony followed their trail of destruction back into the heart of the bunker, where the super soldiers still rested suspended, illuminated in sickly yellow. There was the fucking TV, right there. The thing that had ruined it all. Tony stared down at it, wondering where the tape reel itself was located. Probably back in that room Zemo had been hiding in. The bulletproof one. Somewhere in the hallways, Tony could hear water dripping. Impressive, really, given the permafrost all around. He would’ve thought the systems had frozen over long ago. Near his foot, there was a gun, the semi-automatic Barnes had been carrying. It was useless now, its clip and firing mechanisms slagged by his repulsors. He picked it up all the same and aimed it at the glass where Zemo had hidden. The suit’s fingers were too thick to fit over the trigger—what was left of it anyway—so Tony just imagined how satisfying it would be to fill that glass full of shrapnel, to watch Zemo crumple to the ground.

 —

 “Why are you even training me, Rogers? I’m retired. Aren’t you supposed to be looking after the rookies?”

“Just because you’re retired, Tony, doesn’t mean trouble won’t come looking for you. You’re a pretty attractive target.”

“Why yes. Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing.”

Steve punches his bicep gently before offering a bottle of water. Tony takes it, squirting some into his mouth before moving on to his sweat-drenched hair. On Steve’s left wrist, he catches sight of the red band that hides Steve’s words. It would be rude to ask. Totally taboo. But Tony can’t stop himself.

 —

 Tony managed to jimmy his way into the control room, and there he found the VCR, still loaded with the incriminating tape. If he were smart, he would just rip the thing apart, burn the tape and shatter the shell. And Tony was smart. Just not smart in the right ways. He fired up the power to the TV, rewound the tape, and then hit play again. He’d rewound too far. Barnes was in his cryo tube. Some slimy scientists were hauling him out, shoving him into some horrifying chair, pushing down the nodes, saying the words.

No. Tony didn’t want this. He didn’t want to feel sympathy for Barnes. He wanted to let his rage fester and corrode him until he didn’t care anymore. All caring had ever gotten him was betrayal.

 —

 “Do you know who they belong to?” Tony asks, looking up defiantly, refusing to be sheepish about his lack of willpower. Steve glances down at his band before looking up again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He looks wistful and boyish, sweet and beautiful. Tony wants to kiss away the sorrow he sees in that face.

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter. He’s dead now.”

“Oh.” Tony touches his own band, thinking of the words beneath. He’s my friend. The most significant thing anyone will ever say to him. The thing that, if the romantics would have him believe it, points him toward his soulmate. He’s never really gone in for that, though. His parents had had each other’s words, and their marriage was anything but blissful and romantic.

No. Tony’s got a different theory about the words.

 —

 There. Tony spotted it before even knowing he was looking for it. On Barnes’ collarbone. Had fate known he would lose the arm? It was unusual for words to be somewhere else on the body. Non-dominant wrist. That was the norm. The tap quality was shit and Tony couldn’t enhance it without bringing the tape back to Fry. And like hell he was bringing the tape home. Were the files somewhere? Hadn’t Zemo had a book? Maybe it was here?

Tony searched the control room, trying to find evidence of the thing Zemo had used to control Barnes. There was no sign of it, but what there were were dozens of filing drawers, all of them covered in a layer of dust. Tony started digging.

 —

 Steve’s off his game today, Tony can tell. He’s distracted by something, mind not in the ring, and Tony takes advantage. Just like Steve and Nat taught him to. He sweeps Steve’s leg, rolls on top of him, pins his leg in a position that's precariously dangerous even for a supersoldier, and applies weight. “Yield?”

It’s late, the halls are quiet. Tony hadn’t even meant to do sparring with Steve today, but Steve had asked, so Tony had delayed his return to New York City and well, the late hour puts his mind elsewhere.

Their eyes lock. Tony’s still on top of Steve, holding him in place, threatening his knee joint. Between one breath and the next, their positions are flipped, Steve on top of Tony, both of them hard, teeth clacking. Tony doesn’t make it back to New York City that night.

 —

 What felt like hours later, Tony finally discovered what looked like a medical log. He’d been trying to learn Russian, but adding a new script was harder than adding a spoken language, and he was a busy man, what with covering Rogers’ ass every other day. Natasha might have been a master spy, but Steve was a puppy who hadn’t learned how to control his tail wag yet, and he left destroyed crockery in his wake. There was always some trail to some terrorist or smuggler or weapons dealer that needed cleaning up, lest Ross take notice. The point being, Tony’s Russian wasn’t exactly sparkling.

But he’d double-checked ahead of time to know what he was looking for and now he was pretty sure he’d found it. Flipping through the file, Tony found what he wanted to know almost instantly. ‘Til the end of the line. The words. Those words.

 —

 It’s a thing. Sort of. Tony comes to the compound. They spar. They fuck. It’s only their third time sleeping together that Steve drags him into the shower, wristband conspicuously absent. Tony touches the thin skin, for once asking permission before he looks down. Steve nods, trusting, contented. I’m with you to the end of the line, pal. “He” Steve had said. Tony doesn’t need to ask to know who “he” is. There was only one really important “he” in Steve’s life way back when. And it makes sense, too. After all, Barnes plunged to his death trying to protect Steve and Steve had tried to protect him just as hard. Of course they’re important to each other.

“Can I see yours,” Steve asks, kissing Tony’s band. Fair’s fair, Tony thinks to himself, and nods.

Steve gently unclasps the snaps and sets the band aside outside the shower. He looks down at the words and then up at Tony with a silent question. “I don’t know whose they are.”

“And you’re still okay with us?”

“Steve, I’m standing naked in a shower with you. I’m pretty damn okay with this.”

The bright grin Steve gives him feels like a gift.

 —

 Tony left, hauling the tape and the filing cabinets behind him. They would be useful sooner or later, he was sure. And it felt so important, hauling his literal baggage along with him back to the US. Well, first a pit stop in Wakanda so Shuri could make copies. Fry flew the quinjet on autopilot, which was maybe a mistake. Tony needed distractions and all he had were files rendered in Russian, which were frankly giving him a headache. He wanted to hate Barnes so much. But fate was literally sending him a message. Barnes. Rogers. ‘Til the end of the line.

Eventually, frustrated, he managed to sink into a fitful sleep, which took him to Wakanda’s borders. T’Challa sent along an escort at the shield wall to make sure Tony was alone and also to make sure Tony didn’t cause any undue trouble. As if he could manage anything more than a nervous breakdown at the moment. Shuri was waiting for him on the platform, and for her and her brilliant mind, he managed a tired smile.

“Brought a present for you.”

“Thank you, Tony. I would get them myself, but—”

“No, no. You’re busy in Oakland kicking science ass and shooting layups with the youth. Let the old guy take care of the analog—” Tony shuddered theatrically “—files.”

Shuri smiled more brightly and kissed him on the cheek. “You look tired. Go see my mother. She’ll be wanting to mother you.”

“I shouldn’t. I’ve gotta—”

“My brother has already ensured that General Ross cannot find you. Go. Eat some food. Get some rest. Perhaps we can talk about your latest arc reactor designs in the morning. I have some ideas.”

“I bet you do.”

Tony knew when he’d been dismissed, and he also knew he was being handled a little, but it felt nice to be handled. It felt nice to not have to be trying to outwit Ross at every turn for a little while. So he allowed Ramonda to stuff him full of delicious, spicy food and then shuffled off to the guest wing, intent on getting at least four hours before he took off.

But the second he laid down, he was awake and restless, unable to settle. His thoughts kept going back to those files, going back to the “end of the line,” thinking again and again about the letters carved into Steve’s skin. How many times had he kissed that wrist? How many times had Steve kissed his? How was it fair, that Steve would be Tony’s words, but Tony wouldn’t be Steve’s?

Fed up, he yanked on a pair of loose cotton pants and a loose cotton T-shirt and wandered the palace, looking for distraction. None of the guards stopped him, though they watched him with considerable distrust. He didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t trust him either. Not anymore. It was only when he heard the sound of skin slapping leather that he stopped short. That sounded like… But it couldn’t be. All the same, he pushed through the door, freezing as he discovered a huge training ground, Steve inside, alone at a punching bag.

Steve froze too, and the bag caught him on the backswing, smacking him straight in the nose. Tony found himself caught between laughing and rushing forward with concern, and ended up doing a bit of both, snorting as he approached, though he remained well out of Steve’s personal bubble. “Smooth, Cap.”

“Tony, what are you doing here?”

Tony scuffed his toes into the mats, which felt solid right up until he kicked them and then gave way like kinetic sand. It felt heavenly and he wanted to play with it and see what it was made out of. “Oh, you know. Just dropped in for a cuppa with the King.”

“Did…did you bring those files?” Steve remained sprawled on the floor, looking up at him, a trickle of blood trailing from his nose.

“And if I did?”

Steve swallowed heavily, rubbing at the blood and smearing it. And then he was up, faster than Tony could react to, holding Tony, kissing him sloppily through mumbled “I’m sorry’s.” Tony didn’t know how to react. Was this what an out-of-body experience felt like? He remained motionless even as Steve broke away, jumping back, looking more unsure than he’d looked since he and Tony first met. “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… You don’t want…” Steve took a huge breath and squared his shoulders, looking Tony in the eye. “That was wrong of me. I hurt you. In so many ways. It was wrong of me to kiss you.”

“Also pretty sure you’re cheating on your boyfriend if you kiss me. Don’t forget that bit.”

The little line between Steve’s eyebrows deepened. “Bucky and I, we’re not… We’re just not. I thought we would. But I can’t. Every time I tried, I felt like I was betraying you. And Bucky felt like it was wrong, too. We didn’t…we didn’t click. Not romantically, anyway.”

“You’re not…” Tony could barely dare to let himself to hope. “Didn’t you back in the war, though?”

“No. No, we didn’t. It was too much, running missions, fighting Hydra. Plus, he was afraid I’d get caught and outed. So we didn’t. I should’ve told you. But I didn’t think it mattered.”

All the thoughts Tony used to have about the words, the idea that maybe they had nothing at all to do with romance, came back to him. He ran a finger over his own wrist, where Steve’s words were hidden.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve stood there, square, looking as though he was waiting to be punched, ready to take his punishment like a man.

“Wanna spar?”