#Ghost of the ten

[thefandomwritersblog]

As he gazed at her tear-streaked face, he could feel the weight of her emotions—a mix of sorrow and awe that threatened to overwhelm him. It was a stark contrast to the tempestuous fury that often burned within her, but in this moment, she was stripped bare, revealing a raw vulnerability that both terrified and enraptured him.

~~

Many thanks to @infernaldaydreams for taking another one of my commissions! I cannot even begin to describe how much of love and appreciate your style, your dedication, and the care you put into each piece you've lovingly crafted. There is no one else I trust more to create Victoria and Hekarro. You are simply the best!

[ghost-bxrd]

Let’s amp up the “Jason says ow and the batfam thinks he must be gravely injured” headcanon.

Jason calls Bruce or Dick for fun and says nothing but “goodbye” before hanging up (maybe it’s a dare by Roy who TOTALLY suspects the reaction Jay is gonna get).

Ten minutes late the entire Justice League is scouring Gotham, on the hunt for Jason.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 112

Once again, you know who is underutilized in DCxDP crossovers? Battinson. Skrunkly shivering boi. Who we should definitely give children to care for. 

 Did you know that Jason canonically had a brother named Danny? Well you do now, and it should also be used more. 

 We all want to give Battinson a robin, so why not give him four for the price of two. He of course gets Dick from the circus- he’s never going to go into public again, this was the first time he’d gone to do something out of his comfort zone for a while and look how that turned out. 

 And on one of the nights that Dick has to stay home (Alfred insists he must finish his homework if he wants to go out on patrol) Bruce returns to the batmobile to find not one child, but two. Is Danny reincarnated? Just appeared one day? Who knows, but he’s here now and going to protect his little brother. 

 Bruce might have tears in his eyes when they both hit him in the kneecaps and bolt because even with the armor it still hurts. How he manages to grab both kids he’s not too sure, but he ends up getting them food after they put the tires back. He also doesn’t understand how he’s convinced them into the car but they’ve both conked out and maybe he’s panicking and needs Alfred- 

 D-Dick why is there another child here? He’s the neighbor, cool cool. W-what do you mean he’s home alone, he’s like, 4?? What do you mean he’s been alone for a week now???

…

Alfreeeeed-

[lisbetadair]

@sleepyconfusedpotato

Spotted this Ghost & Jade coded image on Reddit. Opinion in the comments is that she is 163cm (5'5") and he is 210 cm (6'10").

[iero]

GERARD WAY —"The Ghost of You" (2005)

[dcxdpdabbles]

I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??

anyway

Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”

“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*

“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks

"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.

Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.

"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"

Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."

"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.

How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?

"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"

Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."

Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."

Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.

And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.

The perfect heir.

It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.

"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."

"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"

"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."

"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.

The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.

"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.

He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."

"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.

"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.

Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.

It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.

"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.

"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.

"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"

"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.

A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.

He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"

"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."

"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.

"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"

"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.

Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.

"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.

Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.

"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.

His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.

[ghostly-groves]

Odd ways hermits play minecraft (from mumbo’s video) in order of appearance

Grian

- f for inventory, e for swap hand, r for zoom

- same headset since 2008

- described as “really cheap and nasty” but comfortable. apparently.

- discontinued ages ago

- ordered a batch from hong kong so he’ll never run out

- they last about a year each

Mumbo

- presses shift with his thumb

Ren

- e for forwards, x for backwards a for left, f for right

- r for inventory, g for swap hand

False

- i for inventory

Etho

- tissue box stand for mic

- five years old from costco

- tissues are still in the box

- keyboard is 18 inches back from the edge of desk (for room for his arms??? so he has elbows on desk)

- shoulder level desk

- mouse sideways in front of keyboard

- high sensitivity on mouse because there’s no space to move it

- metal desk that’s smooth so no mousepad needed

- uses mousepad under left elbow as a cushion instead

Gem

- sprint is caps lock

- r instead of f5

Joe

- uses a foot pedal???

- left pedal for sprint

- centre to change obs

- right to mute mic

- - (minus) to drop item

Cleo

- sits cross legged on her couch

- keyboard on knees

- mouse and mousepad on a flat of soft drink cans

- has a desk but doesn’t use it

- microphone hangs from the staircase banister behind her

Keralis

- left handed

- right hand for wasd, left hand for mouse

- shifts with thumb, pinky for space

Impulse

- sprints with right thumb on mouse

- inverted mouse controls

Skizz

- inverted mouse controls

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[thejacketscloset]

Soap is extremely good at math, but his methods for getting his answers confuse Ghost to no end. He goes through added steps to equations Ghost would never even consider, he somehow factors and simplifies at the same time. Despite how complicated Soap's process seems to be though, Ghost has yet to see him be wrong.

Ghost asks Soap about his process once between missions. They're relaxing on base and Soap is going over his formulas for his demolitions, looking for any improvements he could make. Ghost gets another glance at his nearly illegible equations and forgets to hold his tounge before it's too late.

"How in the bloody hell do you make sense of all of that?" He grumbles out, sounding more confused than anything.

Soap glances over to where Ghost is peeking at his notes, and he offers a genuine smile.

"Ah dunno'. Just kinda clump together the things that make most sense." Soap answers. He points to a specific part of his notes as he speeks, but it does little to make them any more clear for Ghost.

Ghost hums and considers the answer for a second.

"Well it's impressive, Johnny. Lord knows I couldn't do all that."

He hardly thinks the praise is anything special, but then he's looking back to Soap's face and he's just beaming at Ghost, and damn if he can't fight off his own smile.

[splosh-crime]

ATLA AU - Zuko Can See Ghosts

Dead people in ATLA either reincarnate or stay as ghosts until they’re ready to do so. There is no afterlife just as there are no gods. The closest thing to gods ATLA has is spirits but if the Spirit World was the afterlife, I think there would be a lot more humans around when Avatars visit. Iroh’s only there because he went in before he died.

Zuko knows why his mother left because Grandfather Azulon is still there as a ghost to tell him Ursa poisoned him to save Zuko’s life. He was going to haunt Ursa until he realized Zuko could see him and haunted him instead. Surprise, surprise, the guy who ordered the death of his grandson is a dick.

There are many servants dead by Ozai’s wrath in the palace. Their ghosts teach Zuko to stay quiet and fade into the background where it’s safe.

When Lu Ten dies, he regrets that he wasn’t able to save his young cousins from Ozai. Lu Ten stays a ghost and mentors Zuko in combat, bending, and strategy.

When the 41st Division die despite Zuko’s protests, and Zuko himself is burned and banished, the 41st Division find out Zuko defended them and stay ghosts to teach him all they can.

Zuko’s able to escape before the pirates hired by Zhao blow up his ship because the ghosts haunting the pirates warn him. This doesn’t change the plot, but it does save Zuko some pain.

Aang is followed/haunted by Monk Gyatso while Sokka & Katara are followed/haunted by Kya.

[spineless-lobster]

“Hwey!”

- The Captain

[thefandomwritersblog]

Ghost of the Ten Horizon: Forbidden West Hekarro x Fem!OldOne OC Action/Adventure/Romance/Hurt/Comfort Chapter 18

Part 3: Ghost of the Ten

"It’s like he’s picking up parts of the world and showing them to me, saying, 'See? It’s beautiful.'." - Cath Crowley, Words in Deep Blue.

~~

Victoria found herself missing coffee.

Like a lot.

It sat like an ache in her bones and left her craving the familiar ritual and comfort it provided. Memories flooded her mind of Saturday mornings at the ranch, where Mama Maria would wake before sunrise to prepare the first pot of the day. The aroma would drift up to Victoria's bedroom and rouse her from sleep, so she could stumble down to the kitchen with her cousins and savor a cup before starting the day's work. She also missed that first cup after returning from a deployment, waking up in her own bed to the automatic brew set for 6:30 AM—a habit ingrained in her blood now.

A habit she was paying for as the sun began to break through the broken ceiling of her bedroom, shafts of light streaming across the walls and floor. Victoria couldn't help but lament the loss of that morning ritual. The loss of that familiar comfort even as birds sang their cheerful morning songs and the soft murmur of conversation began to echo through the halls of the museum—or The Grove, as the Tenakth liked to call it.

Victoria threw back the thin blanket with a grumble and ran a hand through the tangled mess of her hair as she sat up. The sun was barely up, and it was beyond humid as hell—a heat that clung to her skin and left her covered in sticky sweat. No matter where she went, it seemed to follow her, and more than once now she lamented the loss of precious, precious air conditioning. With another heavy sigh, she stood, her eyes flickering to the door just as the soft scuffle of footsteps stopped in front of her curtain.

Right on time. As usual.

“Victoria, can I come in?”

She huffed, annoyed but impressed that Beta seemed to have memorized when Victoria woke up now. “Yeah.” She grumbled back, standing to stretch, “Whatever.”

Beta entered the room with a warm smile and handed Victoria a tray of food—the same seared meat and broth that she had been eating every morning for weeks now. Victoria blinked at the thought, trying to remember exactly how long it had been since she woke up. She frowned when she was unable to count the exact days, like her memory was fogged with nothing but flashes of grief cutting through it. The same ache that still sat in her heart even now.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she reached for the tray and settled back on the bed to eat. Beta plopped down next to her, placing something heavy between them. Victoria looked curiously at the leather-bound journal and took a bite of her food before picking it up to examine it. The craftsmanship was impressive, with a strong and sturdy leather cover and clean parchment pages inside. The front cover even had intricate geometric designs etched into it.

"It's a journal!" Beta exclaimed happily at Victoria's curious expression, and Victoria had to bite her tongue to keep from making a sarcastic remark. "I asked Petra if she could make something similar to her big book she always carries around."

Victoria took another bite of her food before flipping through the pages of the journal “So, what? I’m just supposed to write in it now, like some kind of ‘Dear Diary’ bullshit?”

Beta nodded, “Exactly!” She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked to the closed curtain across the room. “I was just thinking that maybe having something to write down and organize your thoughts with might be helpful.”

Victoria bit down on her tongue again, holding back the bitterness that lingered there. Tried to remind herself that Beta was a fucking kid who just wanted to help. It didn’t ease the anger and hurt, however. So she just set aside the journal and finished her food. She offered Beta quick glance as they sat side by side in silence until Victoria couldn’t take it anymore and shattered it.

“We never finished our talk last time.”

Beta looked thoughtful for a moment before she nodded, “I didn't want to push you too much, especially since you were upset. I figured if you wanted to know more, you’d bring it up again.”

"I'm feeling talkative today," Victoria grumbled as she finished her food and placed the empty tray aside. “So… Zero Dawn isn’t a superweapon, it’s a terraforming system?”

“Yup. Controlled by a fully functioning AI called GAIA. She was built by Elisabet Sobek and team of the worlds leading scientists at the time. Each scientist had responsibility for one aspect of GAIA's functions to keep the system running after…after everyone else was gone."

“And it took a thousand years for us to get to this point?” Victoria gestured to the ruins around them.

"More or less," Beta replied. "After Zero Day, when GAIA Prime's facility was sealed off, it took almost sixty years to completely shut down the swarm. It took another forty or so to successfully start a functioning biosphere. And it wasn't until almost a hundred and fifty years later that humans were reintroduced back to earth."

Victoria let out a sharp breath, tears welling up in her eyes once again. She didn't understand why she kept torturing herself like this. Listening to the demise of everything she loved, as if reliving it would somehow free her from the nightmare. By the time the Swarm had reached the US, most of humanity had already been wiped out. She remembered the suffocating feeling of being trapped in a protective suit just to step outside. It was foolish and futile to think that mankind could have survived. They hadn't even lasted two years, let alone sixty needed to even start.

And that knowledge, that painful truth, was enough to break Victoria in all new ways.

She eventually raised a brow and gestured towards Beta, "What about you? Don’t get me wrong, the grungy scrubs are a vibe but they don't exactly fit the tribal aesthetic."

“Do you remember the Odyssey?”

"The luxury colony ship that exploded while leaving Earth's orbit?" Beta looked away anxiously, and Victoria felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Oh, you can't be serious."

"Surprise…" Beta tried to joke weakly.

Victoria jumped to her feet and paced back and forth in anger, running a hand through her hair as hysterical laughter escaped her lips. "This is like something out of a science fiction nightmare!" She turned to face Beta, "So you grew up in the Sirius System?"

“I was technically cloned on a ship that returned to Earth from the Sirius System.”

There was a long, awkward silence, then —“What?”

Beta cleared her throat, but still nodded “I’m a clone. Of Doctor Elisabet Sobek. I was created During the return voyage from Sirius.”

Victoria didn’t have any real answer for that except another —”What?!”

“Look, it’s a long story, and I don’t think we need to really overwhelm you with all the details yet—”

“Victoria?” Beta paused and both of them turned to the curtained doorway, “May I come in?”

Hekarro's impeccable timing saved Beta from having to continue the conversation. She looked visibly relieved as Victoria scowled at her and muttered under her breath, "We are not finished talking about this." With a scowl, she replied loudly, "Yeah, whatever!"

Hekarro ducked into the room right as a mischievous glint crossed Beta's face. She jumped off the bed, holding out the empty journal for Victoria with a grin. "Tell you what: start writing in this and I'll tell you more! Bye, Victoria!

As Beta dashed out of the room, Hekarro couldn't help but smile while Victoria just scowled after her.

With a tired sigh, Victoria plopped back down on the bed and gave Hekarro a cold stare. "Chief," she greeted stiffly, to which he responded with a slight dip of his head and hand over his heart. "What do you want?"

He hesitated briefly, a movement too quick for her to catch if she hadn’t already been paying close attention. "Several squads are out patrolling today, so the Grove will be less crowded than usual. I wanted to know if you would like to accompany me on my rounds. Explore more of the Grove. That is, of course, if you feel up to it."

The memory of their last walk flashed through her mind – lying in the meadow, watching the stars and just… talking to each other. In this new world, it the only moment of happiness she really had. And that terrified her, even if she couldn’t explain why. Victoria eventually shrugged and sighed, rubbing the tension from her neck.

"Why not," she muttered under her breath. "I could use a distraction."

A rush of warmth spread across her face at the pleased expression on his handsome features, and she couldn't help but fight back a smile that tugged at her own lips. In one graceful motion, she stood and made her way towards the door, Hekarro following closely behind. Instead of turning towards the main hall, he veered left this time, leading her towards the back of the museum. The morning sun had risen above the horizon, casting its harsh light over the bustling crater filled with workers scurrying about like busy ants. As they reached a wooden overlook, the pair stood in silence and watched the scene from a distance. It was a surreal sight. The last she’d seen of this exhibit had been during the height of Operation: Enduring Victory, and before that when the museum had been filled with tourists. Now it was almost a shell of its former self, repurposed to fit the needs of the Tenakth.

“An arena?” She asked, unprompted. Hekarro nodded,

“I needed a proving ground for Marshal’s of my own.”

"You really did just take everything you could and make it your own, didn't you?" The words came out sharper than Victoria intended, but Hekarro didn't seem bothered as she glanced at him. There was a contemplative look on his face as he observed the activity below before speaking,

"We must seem like children to you," He sounded almost amused, "We grasp at any remnant of our lost history and repurpose it to fit our present needs, even if it strays from its intended purpose." He gestured towards the crater-turned-arena and chuckled. Victoria shrugged

“I just find it funny is all.”

Hekarro backed away from the edge of the overlook and began a leisurely stroll along the wall of the arena while she easily matched his stride. They passed by banners hanging in the makeshift stands, bringing splashes of color and life to the desolate landscape that had been destroyed by the Swarm.

"Why do you find this idea amusing?"

Victoria hesitated before responding, trying to have a little tact despite usually hammer-fisting her way through every social interaction. "I guess it's just interesting how some things never change for humans. Your tribe finds significance in ruins from my time, much like my people found meaning in ruins that were already thousands of years old. It's almost like how a Marshal is to you like how Rome was to my people."

“Different, yet strangely familiar.” Hekarro observed, “It must be unsettling to witness your own past being utilized in such new and unfamiliar ways. And to see the impact it has had on the world around it.” He turned to face her with a concerned expression, “If it brings any comfort, our intentions were never to offend, but rather to pay homage. We simply didn't fully comprehend the truth before us.”

“Was it willful ignorance on your part?” He blinked at her question, furrowed his brow, and shook his head.

“No, the truth was kept from us, and… I grieve for the future that was denied to us because of it.”

Victoria shrugged once more as they arrived at the next doorway, both of them turning to a passageway that led further into the Tenakth's architectural blend of past ruins. She let out a small huff at the sight and Hekarro's sentiment. "It's not entirely your fault," she pointed out, taking the lead this time and strolling down the ramp away from the arena and into the heart of the intricately crafted wooden platforms and walkways. She observed everything the Tenakth had built in the ruins of the museum. A few Tenakth were scattered about, talking and laughing in sheltered shadows from the morning heat. They glanced curiously at her as she passed by, quickly averting their gazes when they noticed their chief close behind. Victoria paused in the shadows of a particularly tall walkway that opened up to a second level above, sighing softly. “The only thing that matters, I guess, is what you plan on doing with the truth now that you know it.”

“And therein lies the issue at hand.” Hekarro said as he joined her. He too gazed up at all that his people had built before he turned that piercing gazed of his to her. “You’ve changed everything by simply surviving the impossible. Are my people even ready for that truth? Will they ever be? If they refuse it, where does that leave you?”

“Ignorance is bliss, sometimes.” Victoria grunted, "I wouldn't blame them for choosing it."

God knows she had tried, but unlike the Tenakth, Victoria didn’t have a choice but to accept the truth for what it was. With them? Everything could be twisted and warped to make sense.

“And if they choose denial? They already worship Anne as a deity, finding strength and solace in her. If they were to view you in a similar light…"

“I was never much for godhood.” She shook her head, “I don’t have that much of an ego.”

“What of a guide then?” Hekarro asked. Victoria hesitated, furrowing her brow as she crossed her arms. He raised his hands in a calming gesture, remaining composed even as he sensed her irritation. "If not to my tribe, then at least to me. Teach me everything, so that I may guide them."

It was an odd proposition for Victoria, as she had woken up without any purpose or direction. Before, all she cared about was survival - her own and that of her family - even as the Swarm continued to consume everything around them. But now, being asked to guide others felt like a slap in the face. Why her? What wisdom did she have that could be beneficial to Hekarro and his people? She felt like a ghost haunting her past life, a useless relic that didn't belong in this new world. In her darkest moments, she contemplated ending it all by jumping from the roof of this ruined monument of death and war, just to escape the guilt eating away at her from within. Why was she chosen to live and guide when it could have been Anne?

Anne, the peacekeeper. Anne, the devoted colonel. Anne, who gave her all to the people but not to her own daughter.

Anne, who had condemned Victoria to this hell.

Anne, who would have been more suited for this role.

Victoria dismissed her spiraling thoughts and shook her head. "I'm not sure what I could possibly offer your tribe that would be of value," she said.

"Considering all that was stolen from us?" His gaze locked onto hers, piercing through to the very depths of her being. It stole her breath away, leaving her lost in the intense warmth of his honey-brown eyes. "Everything."

It was terrifying how she believed him. Even more scary as she wordlessly nodded her head and sighed, “Well, alright then.” She almost scoffed in amusement, “Lesson one, I guess.”

Victoria gestured to the ruins around her as she started to walk again, following the path outside the cramped ante-chamber before the arena and outside the museum proper to the road overlooking the jungle, “Do you know why this place was built.”

“From my limited understanding, this is a memorial to the Ten. A place where their deeds and stories are preserved.”

Hekarro matched her slow pace as they walked slowly down that path back towards the museum entrance. He kept his gaze level to the tree line, observant and stern. Victoria didn’t notice anything when she looked, but he was more suited to the environment that she was anyway. She gave him a curt nod at his answer.

"That's the general idea. These 'Ten' were actually members of Joint Task Force 10, a branch of the US Air Force that still utilized human pilots. Their presence in this museum is just one small part of a much larger history. Have you listened to many of the exhibits?"

Hekarro nodded as they climbed back up the stairs into the main part of the museum, passing by flickering holograms in the shadows. "Recently, yes. But until a few months ago, most of them were broken or damaged. That's why our understanding of what's preserved here is limited."

“Then you must have heard about “The Hot Zone Crisis” mentioned several times?” Again, Hekarro nodded as they made their way through the hallways and back into the main antechamber before Hekarro's throne. Victoria paused in front of Anne's exhibit, standing still and silent with a frown on her face. “Anne grew up during that time. Our family home isn't far from here, just a few days' walk at best. She met my father while she was serving in the military, and witnessed firsthand how terrible the crisis was. Climate change was spiraling out of control, with nearly all areas in this region becoming uninhabitable due to extreme heat and droughts that were unforgivable. In 2036, our federal government issued an extremely controversial executive order. On paper, it was an attempt to limit the impact of the Hot Zone. They wanted to use their power to force people off their land and into temporary housing until a better solution could be found.”

“Forced?” Hekarro asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“The federal government had the right of Eminent Domain, which allowed them to take control of certain land under certain circumstances. But at the time, many people in the Hot Zone saw it as a way for the government to seize their land and resources while forcing them to live in fenced-in camps. People refused to leave, and who could blame them? This was their home, no matter how difficult it was to live there. And the loudest voice against Order 73-H was Roberto Medina. He defied the federal government and used all his wealth and profits to provide proper housing for those who chose to stay on their land.”

“I can’t imagine your government was pleased about that.”

“They weren’t” Victoria shook her head, “And in response, the federal government cut off the Hot Zone from all water sources.”

“They’d rather let their own people die from the heat than allow them to stay?!”

“To prove a point and force obedience? Absolutely. And it only gave credence to the claims that the government didn’t care about the people. They just wanted the land. And that really lit a fire under people, and Medina reached out to outside sources to secure water for the Hot Zone. He signed a huge multiyear deal with a water cartel and he asked the Colonel of JTF 10, Edward De La Hoya, to not only protect the mining claims but to protect the water resources. It turned into the first armed conflict on American Soil since the Civil War some 200 years before that. US Robot command sent out drones force Medina and his allies into submission, and when JTF 10 proved just as capable of keeping up with the worlds most sophisticated AI, it turned deadly.”

"I wish I could say I was surprised that it escalated so quickly." Hekarro muttered, his gaze shifting towards Anne's exhibit.

"Some tried to prevent it from getting this far," Victoria commented, gesturing towards the exhibit. "Anne was one of them, and so was my father. They didn't believe that fighting would solve anything. When their call for peaceful resolution went unheard they instead focused on helping refugees - relocating those who wanted to leave the conflict zone or providing aid for those staying behind."

“An honorable cause.”

"A cause that got my father killed," she muttered, her eyes cast down to the sand before she turned and walked up the nearby stairs towards Hekarro's throne. She passed through the holograms into the backrooms, with the sound of her boots echoing off the walls until she finally reached the wooden overlook above the arena. "At some point, US Robot Command decided to launch a strike against Medina and his allies at their headquarters in an attempt to end the conflict once and for all. No one knows exactly what happened, but it's theorized that a JTF-10 munition struck a powering casing of a General Synthetic drone and caused a fission explosion." She pointed down into the crater. "That is all that remains of the base, of Medina, De La Hoya and his unit, and the nine hundred innocent people sheltered at the nearby refugee camp. Nine hundred lives lost, including my father's."

There was a long silence as Hekarro stood by her side. She fought back tears and looked at him. He met her gaze with steady empathy. She wanted to hate him, but couldn't find it in her heart.

"Do you see why I despise this place?" she asked, shaking her head in frustration. "It took everything from me before I was even born. It killed a man I never had the chance to meet - only heard about in stories that my Anne refused to tell me. It changed the woman who gave birth to me, who pushed me away in favor of her duty and pursuit of peace because it's what my father stood for. And even worse, it continued to take until it became my prison for a thousand years. This is not just a place of honor, Hekarro, but a monument to death and loss. Because war does not leave a lasting record of whether it was fought for noble purpose or if it was justified. All that remains in history are the innocent lives taken by war."

Victoria could feel the weight of her anger hanging between them, thick and heavy. She noticed a distant and far-away look in his eyes, as if he was lost in a painful memory. But then his focus shifted back to her, meeting her intense gaze with a softness that caught her off guard. "Thank you," he said, dipping his head slightly and sending his long hair cascading over his shoulder. His hand rested over his heart as he spoke. "For sharing this with me. I understand that it cannot be easy to live here. Constantly reliving these painful memories each day. I am sorry if my desires have caused you more pain."

She couldn't stand how genuine he was being. She wiped at her tears furiously, "A trade then?” She said, almost chuckling as she asked of him the very same thing he’d asked of her not that long ago. A question for a question. Does that sound fair?”

Hekarro's chuckled at that, it’s warmth setting alit a nervous flutter in Victoria’s gut. She turned away from him, hoping to hide the tell-tale blush on her cheeks. "A fair trade," he chimed in, following her as she walked back to her quarters. They were down the hall when she saw Beta emerge from Victoria’s room, clutching a few tools to her chest while another woman, who bore a striking resemblance to Beta, followed shortly after. The pair of them froze when they noticed Victoria and Hekarro, but turned to exchange knowing smirks.

“It’s all set!” Called Beta.

She turned to Hekarro, confused and irritated, but found him gazing warmly at her, a wicked smirk on his face that quirked a corner of his mouth. With an elegant gesture, he held open the curtain to her door and motioned for her to enter first. As they stepped inside, Victoria's breath caught in wonder. Orchid vines cascaded from the ceiling, their delicate petals caressed by sun rays peeking through the damaged roof. The vibrant colors of orange, pink, red and purple danced in the light. Hekarro stood behind her, still smiling when she turned to face him.

"You planned this," she said, shocked. "You asked me to go for a walk just to get me out of my room."

"I admit my deceit," he said with a hint of mischief in his gaze. Victoria wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug grin off his handsome face. Instead, she scowled at him, hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt. "I wasn't sure if we could plant orchids in the trees above your room, but once Aloy and Beta assured me it was possible, I agreed to distract you so we could surprise you."

“Why?”

He bent down and picked up an orchid that had fallen to the floor. He held it out to her. "I gave them to you because I noticed how much you liked them," he explained, his voice gentle and sincere. "and because I wanted to give you something that brings joy instead of sorrow." She accepted the flower, it’s petals soft beneath her fingertips "There is still beauty in this world, Victoria, even amidst all the pain," he whispered, his hand tenderly resting on her wrist as he gazed at her with warmth in his eyes that took her breath away. "And I want to show you every bit of it."

With a final smile, Hekarro excused himself and left the room, leaving Victoria speechless and awestruck. She returned to her bed and laid down, looking up at the swaying orchids above her as she held onto the stray bud in wonder.

And in that moment, the world seemed a little more colorful than it did before.

[nickyroethemarinebiologist]

Top ten silliest guys around

[venomous-qwille]

it's his halloween costume guys

[unhingedpolycule]

Soap, high as a kite and holding his shark plushie like in lion king: König has a big dick... a- a megalo-schlong.

König, equally as high: have you seen my baklava? No, that's not right, my bak- no. Ba- face mask thing.

Ghost, very much sober indeed, initially trying to get work done but now just filming the entire interaction: :)

~Moss

[masterofiodine]

bbc ghosts modern au!!

making up their outfits was really fun (especially kitty and thomas, he would look great in skirt)