#call-me-spectre-five

[tigersharktheautisticseawing]

WAIT GUYS FUCK I GOTTA TALK ABOUT THIS OR I'LL FUCKING DIE

(spoiler alert: this somehow grew from five talking point to almost 2000 words of Bad Trip symbolism, so buckle up, buttercup, cuz we goin' for a wild ride)

So, I'm rewatching Truth Seekers with a friend, and Moxie's Bad Trip and Blitzø's Bad Trip, and I just noticed some things (this is gonna be heavily Blitzø centered, so prepare for that)

Moxie's Bad Trip

In this, I specifically want to point to four things

So Blitz is very accurate throughout Moxxie's whole segment (read his pegging comments and "Because you my precious little bitchboy are tripping balls!"), but I want to point to one moment specifically

At 10:09 Moxie says

"Cause you're thoughtless and cruel and you'll end up alone!"

And at that point, at exactly 10:11, Blitz makes this face

Up until this point and from this point onward his eye on the mask part of his face is glowing red and undetailed, pupil not visible

This singular frame shows exactly how deep Moxxie hit Blitz with that comment, and foreshadows the fact that he has a massive phobia/obsession on the whole "dying alone" thing. Like, I want to scream, this is so beautifully done. Whoever thought of this frame in this context has my fullest respect

The second thing is what Moxxie says just before the first part of Blitzø's Bad Trip

At 9:02 Moxxie says

"Cause if you're here causing frustration, I'm torturing you in your hallucination!"

Now let's take a look "causing frustration" and "torturing you", because that's exactly what's happening here

In Moxxie's Bad Trip, the worst Blitzø does is call him a bitch/bitchboy and making some comments about the whole M&M pegging thing, but that's about it. It's mostly Moxxie screaming at Blitz and singing with him about becoming better

In Blitzø's Bad Trip, Moxxie brings up Blitz's worst insecurities, calls him basically stupid once, and kinda just rants what Blitz thinks about him

So the words "frustration" and "torturing" definitely fit the respective songs

The third thing is that the mask replaces Blitzø's scar

Under that mask Blitz has a completely normal and unscarred face

Meaning that Moxxie's subconscious straight up erased the physical embodiment of Blitzø's most major trauma and replaced it with a mask, of all things

I saw a theory on here, concerning the people at the Blitzø hate party, that the fact that the Blitzø cake is unscarred means that Blitz hid the vulnerable side of his and showed it off as "tough guy scars", so they stripped him of it as a "fuq u ur not tough", when meanwhile it's exactly what Blitzø would want happening, his scars just straight up disappearing one day.

Well, I think the same happened to Moxxie

I think he doesn't see the scar as a sign of vulnerability and/or physical embodiment of his worst mistake that caused his trauma, but as a tough-guy mask, designed to make him not have to talk about his feelings

(If you think something else's going on here, do tell! I just realised that last one while writing this and I find it very interesting)

And, lastly, Blitz's short line just before the one I talked about in point 1

Aka:

"I don't know, eventually everyone goes"

It feels really self aware of Blitz, but this isn't Blitz, this is Moxxie

So Moxxie, consciously or not, realised that Blitz pushes people away with his behaviour and that it's a genuine problem, but didn't realise the whole scar thing

So I wonder what exactly is Moxxie's image of Blitz. Like, considering what we know that Moxxie knows, he seems to have some elements of the puzzle but not the whole picture, and assumed incorrectly what the full picture is

2.Blitzø's bad trip

Now, here we begin the absolute fucking masterpiece that is the symbolism in this one

For one, let's talk about the spectre's voices

Moxxie and Stolas's voices are pretty on-point, at least to me, and we'll later touch on why I think that's the case, but let's talk about Bad Trip!Verosika, Striker and Fizz first

All three of them don't sound like normal

Instead, they sound like Blitz trying to make their voices

Striker's has an obvious tinge of Brandon Rogers in it, honestly it sound more like Blitz than Striker, as if Blitz hadn't really memorised his voice that well

Fizz's is, in my opinion, more well-balanced. I can hear a bit of Alex Brightman in it but also quite a lot of Blitz

Lastly, we have Verosika. She sound a lot like Blitz, but her manner of speaking is purely Verosika, which imo makes this the most accurate one.

Now, what does the Blitzø-voice mean?

Well, it all has a very specific motif

It's things that Blitz would say as a form of self-hatred

Think about it

"I don't need you, I can do this shit on my own so easily!" "But you don't want to do things alone Blitzo!"

"You tried the solo act, but it didn't work out so well!"

"Yet you still shove away anyone who gets too close until they resent you for being a selfish, shit spittin' snob!"

(the bold parts are the hallucinations, the red is Blitz)

Now, the things they said are very much the stuff Blitz would hate in himself. The fact that he wants someone to care for him, the fact that he can't do what he wants alone even though he tried, and, of course, his inability to get vulnerable with anyone causing him to push people he cares about away until they hate him.

So, I think that these are the thoughts that plague Blitz's brain daily, his self hatred, but it chose to talk through the mouths of the people most affected by said flaw

Striker was literally invited to join IMP. That proves that Blitz didn't want to do this stuff alone

Fizzarolli was his duo act for a while, and his robo version saw him trying the solo act, so it makes sense for him to say, that, on top of the circus vocabulary

Verosika is pretty self-explanatory. He shoved her away when she tried to be vulnerable with him, and she now resents him

So, now that we have that outta the way, let's talk about Moxxie and Stolas

Moxxie does a lot of rambling, but he also roasts him pretty bad

"I simply follow your orders! It's not my fault that your orders are as nonsensical as a suntanning bed left out on the cold rainy porch of a fresh April shower"

"Perhaps you should crack open a dictionary sometimes"

"Admit it, my dear boss. You don't know what you're doing half the time, and you depend on me and the missus to manage your foolish flights of fancy"

"I believe your subconscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but also crave it as well. It’s rather unfortunate sir, considering it’s often how you treat those who stand by you, such as myself"

"Are you worried I might have enough of it one day as well?"

But he also says some rather self-deprecating stuff that he wouldn't say in real life

"And then maybe you can understand half of the frivolous things I carry on and on about on my many rants about upbringings"

So, I think that this is Blitz's opinion of Moxxie. Now, why do he and Stolas keep their normal voices?

Well, I think that it's because, in Truthseekers, they both didn't hate him yet

That wasn't his self-hatred speaking

That wasn't him speaking

Well, at least in Stolas's case

In my opinion Moxxie's voice is altered for one of two reasons

• Moxxie is literally right next to him and high with him, so his voice is fresh in his mind

Not fun, kinda boring, but reasonable

• He hasn't fucked up with Moxxie yet, so his subconscious hasn't created lines that would be repeated so much in his mind that his voice slowly seeps into them

Very fun, also very reasonable

And that second reason is what I think happened in Stolas's case too. His voice is kinda flirty/condescending because that's the Stolas Truthseekers!Blitzø knows. He doesn't know his personality yet. For now he's just a rich, blue-blooded asshole he fucks once a month.

Now, another thing, Blitzø's outfit

He's dressed like a clown here, specifically he looks kinda like in the Loo Loo Land flashback

And his outfit changes when he gets dragged around in chains by Stolas

So this (I think), symbolizes one of three things:

• He fucked up relationships with people in the past

This is his past outfit, so it obviously has something to do with his past, and this is a pretty sound theory, but Striker kinda makes it fall apart

• The people he fucked up relationships with see the past version of him

A bit better, and pretty good overall

• This is himself at the worst point in his life in that outfit he wore in the past

Yeah, his self hatred would *absolutely* exploit him like that, plus he kinda hated himself at that time, so bonus points!!!

Now, the fucking marks on his face

For one, his usual tattoo that looks kinda like an imp/succubus got replaced by a broken heart both in Blitzø and Moxxie's Bad Trips, but in Blitzø's bad Trip at one point the heart (and his outfit) get replaced by his normal self

When does this happen?

When he's near Stolas

I think this symbolizes how Stolas heals his heart and fixes it, as well as how he sees him for his present instead of his past, which is very sad considering *couch cough* the last two episodes *cough cough*

Now, the tear

The fucking tear

If it was on both sides of his face, this would be maybe about how sad he is

But, it's only on the white side

Only on the scar

So I think this is sort of an opposite to what happened with the scar in Moxxie's Bad Trip

Moxxie's subconscious got rid of the scar and replaced it with a mask, since Moxxie thinks of it as a sort of Tough Guy Personality™ thing

Meanwhile Blitzø's subconscious recognized the scar as a physical reminder of his emotional pain and added a tear, a single tear, that can mean that the scar is something left of a time of sadness and grief, a time of tears

Another thing is that the imps fanning Stolas with those big-ass fans are actually Blitzø's but completely black

So that's Blitz's subconscious telling him that he will end up serving Stolas/is already doing that/is under him, while also trying to tell him that he loves the bird

Also, how the mud on the golden stairs disappears after feathers touch it Again, just like with the heart thing, I believe it's another part of the whole "Stolas heals you" symbolism thingy

Also, notice how he turns from Past!Blitzø to normal Blitzø gradually, and the closer to Stolas he gets the more normal he gets

So I actually just realised that and I'm pretty sure it's part of the whole thing I mention in the (hopefully) las paragraph of this post

And, lastly, how he gets covered up in golden feathers at the end there? I think it's some part of him trying to say "You're gonna end up trapped, tied down, unable to escape, so escape NOW"

So yeah, now I'm interpreting Blitzø's Bad Trip as two parts of his subconscious fighting, with the dead dog of the matter being "Should we trust Stolas?"

(Yes, it did turn really Stolitz in the end there huh? Now I gotta add the tags!)

[montereybayaquarium]

Can you tell me some cool Shark facts (I love sharks. Sea puppies)

When there’s something strange in the bay-borhood, who ya gonna call? Ghostshark myth busters!

Australian ghostsharks, a.k.a. elephantfish, a.k.a. plownose chimaeras, a.k.a. elephant sharks, a.k.a. makorepe (a fish so nice they named it… five times?) are some of the oldest fish on the planet, with early chimaera fossils dating back over 400 million years old! Like most cartilaginous fishes, these fintastic sea puppies are slow-growing and long-lived with lifespans of about 15 years. Why “ghost”sharks? While spectating these spectres, stare deeply into their big, black eyes—those peepers have a reflective tissue layer that glows in the dark, giving them a ghost-like appearance!

[bits-and-babs]

✰ 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 - 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: “This is just a hookup." "I know." — Fed up of your antics, Simon gives you a time and place.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. reference to interrogation/violence/torture, sensory deprivation (pitch black), power imbalance, references to masturbation and voyeurism, finger sucking, gagging, against a wall, p in v sex, unprotecte- i know, I’ve got issues.

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

Skittering chills crawl up your vertebrae as you wait impatiently. The shipping container previously used as an interrogation chamber didn’t make for the cosiest spot, but Ghost hadn’t left much room for argument when he’d informed you of the rendezvous point.

“Container 12, 11 pm.”

He’d delivered it with authority, that barking order that rang out over the coms when bullets whizzed by your ears. Who were you to deny Lieutenant Simon Riley? Refusal equated to insubordination— you couldn’t have him thinking you’re undisciplined.

Casting your eyes over the inside of the container, you grind your teeth together. Dried, rusty-coloured flakes of blood peel from the metal ridges of the walls, and a chair lies discarded on its side in the corner. Standing here alone is unnerving, though you’d never admit it. Perhaps that’s what Simon had in mind- a test of endurance. He was late for the meeting by around five minutes; surely there was no other explanation?

It’s only as you begin to settle into reluctant resignation that the creaking door of the container screeches, pushed forward. You’re, admittedly, relieved to see him. Golden flood-lamp light spills across the floor, haloing Simon’s hulking frame before he shoves the door closed again.

“Lieutenant,” you address him by rank, squinting in the darkness but keeping your voice as steady as you can muster. It’s pitch black, but you’re almost convinced you can see his ghoulish mask sneering at you in the darkness. “You’re late-“

“You’re early,” his gruff voice cuts through the blackness. It sounds odd, the bluntness of the Mancunian accent bouncing off your eardrums. He also appears closer than you realised, his voice abnormally loud for the distance you assumed lay between you.

They were right; he really did move like a spectre.

“You needed me, Sir?” You query, but the words seem to shrivel and die in your throat when a gloved palm settles across your chin, tilting your head up.

“Don’t think so,” he answers, his warm breath fanning over your face. There’s amusement flirting with his tone— only slight, but with your senses on overdrive, it rings in your ears like he’s set off a gun beside your temple. “Think you need me.”

Heat burns beneath your skin, but you grit your teeth and steel yourself against the shock of Simon fucking Riley making such an astute observation.

“Sir?”

“Don’t play coy,” his tone is flat, words slightly muffled as though he had something in his mouth, “Think I don’t hear you? Always moanin’ my name when I’m on watch.”

He’s walking you backwards, stopping his advancement only when your back hits the cold metal of the wall.

You don’t have a chance to dispute his damning point, his naked fingers pushing past the plush of your lips and pressing against your tongue. It’s as though your body falls in line immediately, following his silent orders like a good little soldier. You trace his fingertips with the tip of your tongue, sucking on the length of them as he hums.

“Always raisin’ your voice, hopin’ I’ll hear you. You want me to join you? That it?” He asks, his monotonous accent pooling deep in your abdomen as he continues to call you out for your reckless behaviour. Any of 141 could have overheard.

You open your mouth to speak around his digits, but Simon preempts your pathetic attempt to make an excuse. He pushes his fingers in until his knuckles brush your lips, halfway down your throat. You gag around the intrusion, hand grasping at the bulletproof vest Ghost still wore after returning from his latest mission.

“Fuckin’ dirty girl,” he groans over the filthy sound of your chokes. You can hear the clinking metal of a belt in the darkness, the rustle of khaki fabric and the rip of a zipper. “If I give you what you want, are you gonna stop those pathetic little whines?”

God, it’s ridiculous. You practically trip over yourself to nod the affirmative to his question. Muffled swears rumble in Simon’s chest, intelligible despite the close proximity. You’re already scrambling to pull down your cargos; embarrassment soothed only by the blackness that swallows and shrouds you both.

Ghost grunts softly, pulling his saliva-soaked digits from your mouth. The disappointment of feeling empty doesn’t last very long, his drenched fingers brushing over your pussy lips and plunging deep inside you without warning.

“Fuck,” he practically spits at the squelching sound of your cunt swallowing his fingers. You gasp loudly as he curls them back, brushing against your walls and coaxing a sensitive spot that ripples bliss through your core. “This— This is just a hookup.”

You nod over and over, probably looking like those stupid Churchill-Dog bobbleheads he’d see in taxis at home, babbling the same words over and over as he teases that mind-melting spot inside you that has your thighs trembling; “I know, I know, IknowIknowIkno-“

You feel it before you hear it, the huff of breath before the rumbling growl of dying resolve. A large, bruising hand grabs your thigh and hoists it over Ghosts’ hip. The position settles for only a moment, your tight, orgasm-teased muscles just creaking at the sudden change before Simon’s cock sinks into your dripping core.

The wail of bliss ricochets off the metal walls of the cargo container. Ghost is quick to press his naked palm to your mouth, suppressing your pathetic little mewls as he inches inside of you. You can hear his haggard breaths, can feel the ebb and flow of his exhales as he presses his masked forehead against your own.

“Hoh- Fuck-“ Simon groans out, only slightly rocking into you once he settles balls deep. It’s barely there, but the gentle thrusts have you clawing at his sleeves. Your eyes roll back, his pubic bone grinding just right against your needy clit.

“This is just a hookup-“ Simon insists through gritted teeth, but as a shaky moan falls from his mouth when he begins to thrust into your tight, wet heat forcefully, you start to wonder if he’s attempting to convince you of himself.

You realise he’s losing that battle when he spills inside you with a gasp of your name, quickly followed by an almost desperate ‘just one more-‘

join the taglist here:

@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog1 @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @gummyfang @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

[bubblybloob]

You know that spiral thing that appears in Stranger? That each represents one of the princesses? Noticed that they are connected to the one they share an overlapping chapter with.

Like, “Consumption and Betrayal”, Beast and Witch, they both lead to the Wild chapter. “Skepticism and Blind Devotion”, Prisoner and Damsel, both lead to the Grey (albeit different versions). “Rivalry and Submission”, Adversary and Tower, both lead to Fury. “Terror and Longing”, Nightmare and Spectre, both lead to Wraith. Then there is “Pain and Unfamiliarity”, Razor and Stranger, the most unique of these because they don’t connect to any overlapping chapters (also kind of like Damsel and Prisoner since they both lead to only the Grey, but those are different versions of the same ending so maybe not. Also they have extra endings in their own chapters, like deconstructed Damsel for example).

A bit off topic but it makes me wonder why Spectre doesn’t have her own separate third chapter. Everyone else does: Beast to Den, Witch to Thorn, Tower to Apotheosis, etc. They said they were adding two new chapters to the game, as well as a post stating how Spectre fans would like the new update, which makes me think she’s getting getting her own third chapter that doesn’t connect her to Nightmare.

Wonder where the other chapter they said they were making will go then? Stranger seems unlikely but not impossible, maybe Razor if they decided they wanted to extend it, for the absolute absurdity of a five chapter route. Maybe it’ll go towards one of the endings, or as some super secret side thing that is sneakily hidden.

A lot of the Princesses they said will be getting new content in the update are on the Pristine Cut poster(? Don’t know what to call it, I’m dumb). Witch, who is not on it, was said to not be getting anything more, so I guess we’ll be expecting new stuff from whatever princesses are on it, and to not expect new stuff who aren’t. Makes sense really, I can’t think of anything new we’d want in the other more fleshed out chapters.

[osiris-iii-bc]

Terzo Emeritus: Turin.

Primo | Secondo | Terzo.

We know Terzo spent some time as a Cardinal in Poland (I'm going to do some research on Krakow too, just for fun), but if I had to locate him somewhere in Italy, I know where to place him. For Terzo, the most mystical and mysterious of the Papas, I have thought of the most evil and contrasting city in Italy: Turin. Turin is, literally, the Italian City of the Devil, and it is divided into two sides, one evil (black) and one good (white). Let's see what may have influenced the rebellious Terzo Emeritus.  This will be a long one.

1 - Life and death, good and evil, black and white… 

Turin is geographically divided into two sides: the good side to the east, where the sun rises, and the evil side to the west, where the sun sets, divided by the gates of the Royal Palace. Both sides feature monuments and buildings reflecting their predominant energy, and each side counterbalances the magical influence of the other. Turin, with its duality, is both a point of the Black Magic triangle (Turin, London, San Francisco) and one of the White Magic triangle (Turin, Lyon, and Prague).

On the west side, the dark one, the ancient Romans had built the necropolis and the gallows where condemned prisoners were executed. There was nothing but death and darkness.

On the east side, the bright one, the Mole Antonelliana acts as an antenna that gathers white energy from the ground and projects it onto the city through its tip. (Additionally, there is the Sacra Sindone, the cloth with the image of Jesus supposedly printed with his sweat and blood.)

The combination of the two forces creates a coniunctio oppositorum.

Given that Meliora is based on the concept of a city overpowered by dark forces, I believe a whole city where contrasting forces are so strong that they have shaped its aesthetic would have been fitting for him.

2 - Mysterious spectre wrestles power supplies from oligarchs.

The negative fame of Turin seems to stem from the hard rivalry between the Savoy family and the Vatican, especially during the Risorgimento, when Turin was labeled as "diabolical" due to its strongly anti-clerical positions. Turin (and Savoy family) became the anti-Vatican, basically, and we know how controversial Terzo was considered in the Ministry.

So the Savoy family erected five buildings in five different points of the city to form a pentacle: the hunting reserve of Stupinigi, the Moncalieri Castle, the Rivoli Castle, the Venaria Reggia, and the Basilica of Superga. (I have tried tracing the pentacle lines myself, as you can see in the image. Yep, that’s true.) Additionally, the cremation practice was strongly pushed by Turin, in opposition to the traditional burial.

And you are here to stay and burn with me, right?

3 - Lucifer’s statue.

Piazza dello Statuto coincides with the apex of the black magic triangle and the place where prisoners were executed, and it is right here that the presumed statue of Lucifer stands, above a necropolis that is called both la Vallis Occidanum, “West valley” or "where the sun sets" and Vallis Occisorum "Valley of the murdered". The statue is actually a fountain, built in memory of the victims of the Frejus tunnel accident... but looking at it, it's easy to understand that there is something more. The angel placed on the top of the fountain bears an upside-down five-pointed star on its head, and its gaze is not directed towards the Frejus, as one would expect, but towards the white part of the city. Towards the light.

I don’t know you, but to me, He is.

4 - The Masonic headquarters.

Terzo was known to have included many references to the Freemasons, especially in Square Hammer, where many see in the lyrics the tale of a Freemasonry initiation ritual.

In Piazza Solferino, we find the Fountain of the Four Seasons, where the four seasons are represented by four statues: spring and summer by two female figures, while autumn and winter by two male figures. Those male figures are identified with the giants Boaz and Joaquin, supporters of the pillars of Hercules which, in Masonic symbolism, would represent the first step of the initiate in their Masonic journey. Furthermore, it is said that the water of that fountain it’s a source of knowledge.

Continuing on the Masonic path, on via Lascaris, there is now a bank, but in the past, it was the headquarters of a Masonic lodge (curious that in a former Masonic lodge, there is now a bank... Mummy Dust-curious). On the sidewalks of the street, you can notice cracks in the shape of evil eyes. The gaze of the devil.

5 - The first lightning rod in Italy.

Terzo is often depicted surrounded by lightning, so he must have felt at home in Turin. In 1752, in fact, Gianni Battista Beccaria successfully repeated Benjamin Franklin's experiment by installing a lightning rod above his apartment. He created the first lightning rod ever seen in Italy, but since then Beccaria was accused of wizardry for his ability in manipulating electrical energy.

I know that I set a maximum of 5 points, but Turin is so full of occultism that I had to add a bonus point. 👇🏻

6 - the Devil’s door.

This door could have a post on its own for how much there is to say about it, but I’ll cut it short.

Legend has it that it was built in one night by the devil himself to punish a man who had invoked him in vain, and since its installation, terrifying episodes have occurred inside the building, such as the disappearance of a soldier or the murder of a dancer stabbed during a dance that lasted three days and three nights.

The decorations on the door are rich in esoteric symbolism (There is also a little rat…) and in the center, the clapper is literally the face of the devil with two snakes, while in the central column there is a monster holding the world in its claws.

Today, this building also houses a bank… my Mummy Dust.

[formosusiniquis]

the bells, the joy (together in darkness)

Robin Buckley & Steve Harringto WC: 11963 | T | Tags/Themes: hivemind, Post S3, Scoops Troop Friendship, Nonbinary Steve and Robin, Blink and you miss it Steddie and Buckingham pre-slash AKA It's the Stobin Hivemind fic y'all! thank you very very very much to @spectrum-spectre for beta-ing this for me!!

Steve has never done LSD before. Which is the kind of statement his father would call ‘qualifying’ and ‘implies other kinds of wrongdoing, Stephan.’ Like the time he’d said he hadn’t smoked anything other than cigarettes that weekend. Apparently the ‘that weekend’ was a qualifier that got his very small pot stash flushed, and forced him into a second transaction with Eddie Munson in as many weeks.

Yeah okay maybe there were worse things, as far as punishments go.

Qualifying or not though, Steve has never done LSD. Not after the weekend he spent reading the supposedly true diary of a supposedly real teen that had been left on his bed. Like mother, like son, his father had sneered when he'd caught Steve curled up with it, like the whole plan to keep him from becoming pot-addled and destined for the gutter, or whatever, hadn’t relied on his gossipy nature.

It was mostly stupid, the book, but Steve figured it didn’t hurt to stick to weed. The stuff about that he knew for sure was totally fake.

Except now, he wishes he maybe knew a little bit more about what LSD was supposed to feel like. So he knows how to portion out blame for his current state. It’s currently 50% Upside-Down-Shit and 40% Russian-LSD-Shit and 10% Concussion-Shit, but if he’s being fair he’s blamed the Upside Down for about half of everything that’s gone wrong in his life since 1983. He’s willing to acknowledge that maybe the blame breakdown should be readjusted for this one.

“Hey Robin?” Trauma changes people, makes you want to stay close to the people who are changed the same way you are. Robin had shown up at Steve’s house the Monday after everything, trumpet case and duffle bag in hand. Apparently, she had walked from the school where she was supposed to be catching the bus to Band Camp, like she does every year. Apparently, when you undergo traumas heretofore unexperienced by any teen ever, Russian torture and flesh monsters, it’s okay to skip Summer Intensive to move in with your new best friend without telling your parents. Apparently, if you’re the kid that the Band Person, Director, wants to keep happy because in addition to the billion and seven languages you can play any instrument with a mouthpiece -- except trombone, slide positions, Steve had pretended he knew what that meant -- then you can just leave school to deal with your ‘mall fire smoke inhalation’ at your ‘aunt’s house’ instead. Apparently this is fine and Steve doesn’t need to worry about any angry former hippies beating down his dore because ‘what they don’t know won’t hurt them.’

So he can call out for Robin, without raising his voice because he knows she’s there. Somewhere in the house, the weight of it changed now that someone else is in it with him. He can call out even though he’s pretty sure she’s holed up in his Mom’s library on the ground floor, because he can feel her in the back of his brain and he knows she’ll hear him.

Drifting in an unfocused middle distance, he can imagine Robin. Curled up, she knows she’s been called for but isn’t in any hurry to comply, Steve will wait. He's fine with waiting, at least for the five minutes it will take for her to finish her chapter. He can see her, slotting her bookmark in place and sitting up straight for the first time in hours. She stretches, uncurls from the window seat that Steve also favors, gently sets the book down before letting a foot dangle and brush the floor to actually stand. And she leaves the library. She starts to feel closer, her presence looming stronger in his brain and Steve aware of himself in his own body. Then he hears her feet on the stairs.

“What is it, Dingus, did you know your Mom has a whole collection of French books? I’m in the middle of a bunch of lesbian short stories.”

“Yeah, she speaks it, not sure why.” He answers absently, “Have you ever done LSD?”

“I’ve had half a pot brownie and gotten way too high before.”

That’s not really the same thing, Steve thinks.

“I know it’s not really the same thing, Dingus, I was using it as a framework.” She flops facedown on the bed beside him, wiggling into what he’s started thinking of as her side. A lucky coincidence that she prefers to be tucked in on the side closest to the wall. Probably because she’s never seen anything burst out of one.

“Okay don’t think that, cause now I’m never going to be able to sleep again, I don’t think you’ve got enough space for us to pull your bed into the center of your room.”

He can see the way she imagines it. His bed, an island in the center of the room floating in a sea of plaid. Something about it is even more unnerving than if it stayed up against the wall.

“Not a good look.” He doubts anything will come from the walls again anyway, the Upside Down has proven to be surprisingly adaptive; it doesn't seem to attack in the same way twice. It makes it harder to be prepared, but he’s less worried about not being able to protect Robin in the middle of the night.

“Savior complex. Your mom has psychology books down there too. What does she even do?”

“Reads mostly. Do you think there’s anything down there about LSD?” He doesn’t think this is normal.

“Nice leap, Steve, I don’t think there are many drugs that link your brain with your coworker.” She says coworker, but he feels friend. Even that concept isn’t enough to describe the depth of warmth and affection that he feels wash over him as she thinks.

He lets the silence hang for a second, thinking but not sure what yet. His thoughts are slower to arrive and more jumbled in these early days post-concussion. His right hand curls, his fingers flex. First and third finger tap, then one and two, then none, one and two, and two, and none.

Robin’s knee jostles the bed as her leg bounces just a little.

“I think something else happened to us.”

“Wondered how long I’d have to tap your fingers for you before you got there with me.”

Read the rest on AO3

[floppydiskettess]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do headcanons for the valorant agents: Gekko, Neon, Yoru, Phoenix with sova and chamber or whoever you feel with an s/o that when they’re in danger is able to kill whatever or whoever’s endangering them wether it’s like 15+ people or so (like Millie with moxie from helluva boss)

hi anon! tysm for the request!!!! this was a blast to write ahhh!!! :D (also i love helluva boss omg)

but i hope i wrote this right!!!

Gekko

the two of you were on a mission at bind, it was simple. you go difuse the spike while he was assigned to watch your back.

he had to walk a few feet away to pick up wingman for five minutes, you would be fine right?

once he picked up wingman, he heard a loud bang behind him and a loud celebratory woop

"oh fuck."

he turned around and saw the familar wild colours from raze's showstopper.

"no no no! shit you good?" he called through the smoke

he hated the silence he recieved back. as the smoke cleared he saw your paint covered and burnt body.

"...cariño?...shit, wingman, go get the others. i got these guys."

he pulled out his customized spectre as he prepared to fight. he detained as many as he could before swiftly wiping them out one by one.

when the team arrived with wingman, sage quickly rushed to your side to aid you.

once he finished taking care of the enemies, he ran to your side

"i am so sorry...i thought i could go grab wingman but you got hurt...i am really sorry.."

Neon

a/n: this is small bc i wrote a whole ass essay for neon and it deleted....im so mad...im just trying to summarize it

"HOY! IM PISSED."

that was the last thing before you felt a sharp pain in your stomach as your vision went black.

you don't know what happened, but somehow yoru had gotten behind you. it was supposed to be a quick and simple mission. neon took A-site and you took B-site. unfortunately, right when neon approached B-site to check on you. she saw it.

red. the snow was covered in a beautiful shade of red. and it wasn't from your attacked. neon could feel electricity enter her fingertips as she lost control of her abilities.

you felt neon carrying you before falling uncomcious.

neon carried you to the jet and brought you to sage.

"im sorry...when i saw them like that i just...lost control of my abilities.."

"its ok, you did it to protect them. you saved them."

Phoenix

he was just returning from his "run it back" when he opened his eyes to see the enemy phoenix staring back at him, aiming his ghost at his own forehead.

he went to grab for his ghost but he found an empty holster.

"ah shit."

"you really thought i wouldn't just take your weapon? i'm not as foolish as you are."

phoenix braced for impact as he heard the gun fire, but the shot never came. he nervously opened his eyes to see you standing infront of him, a gunshot hole through your shoulder as you pushed the enemy phoenix away.

"dear?! what the-"

he watched as your limp body falls to the ground, feeling worry and rage overtake him.

"oh fam...your gonna regret that." he says to the opposite phoenix as the rest of his team approaches for backup.

when skye arrived at the site to treat you, she did not expect to see 5 charred bodies sprawled across the ground.

"mate...what happened?!"

"they ambushed us. (name) saved me cause i made a dumb mistake. go heal them, i am fine." he said with a dark tone to his voice

when skye healed you and you awoke, you were immediately greeted to the smell of burning. you turned your head towards phoenix as you saw him crouch beside you.

"thank god...why would you do that?! i'm sorry if i had checked my surroundings better you would have-" he rambles

you cut him off with a kiss as you feel his tired body begin to relax.

"no. i should have thought of a better plan. i am sorry i worried you."

for the next few days of your recovery, he will be by your side assisting you with anything you need. both of you content to try and ignore what happened that day.

Yoru

prior to meeting you, he was an extremely anger filled person. he still gets angry easy, but not as badly as before. you taught him how to control his emotions

but if he were to see you ganged up on in a mission, he would just lose control.

he was over at A-site at haven preparing to extract the radianite, before hearing your frantic voice shout through the comms for backup.

his heart dropped, he realized why his site was so empty along with the others. they had five-stacked onto one site. you had gone to C-site all alone. shit.

he immediately threw the spike towards Astra who had accompanied him to the A.

"stay here. i will go provide backup."

"alone? alright...stay safe."

he quickly teleported to your C-site to be met with a shocking sight. your battered and blood covered body lying down on the rough ground. burns and scratches littered your arms and legs. phoenix..

he looked up from your body to see the enemy phoenix, jett, chamber, astra, and skye staring at him with bloodthirsty gazes. they had teamed up on you because you were alone... how fucking sick could they be to attack a helpless sentienel.

he felt himself snap as he caught the enemy phoenix's cocky smirk. the cunt was proud of what he did.

when you regain conciousness, you are lying on the ground surrounded by the shredded corpses of the omega agents, a stained red yoru standing above them with his famous butterfly comb stained.

"...ryo?"

he turns around and immediately runs to your side.

"shit...thank god you are awake. don't move. help is coming ok?" he softly whispers while carressing your blood matted hair.

"are they...?"

"don't worry about them, you are safe now darling..."

when you make it back to base, you find out he took them all down on his own. when astra arrived at the site she had to practically tear yoru off of where he was mauling the corpses of the omega agents bodies.

he was ordered to talk to sage about his anger, but he never regretted what he did. he did it to save you and all that mattered was he had you back with him.

Cypher

he is used to killing to protect those he loves, this is nothing new to him.

he might be a cold killer, but you always knew he would never hurt you.

if someone was threatening you, he would keep them away using blackmail, but if it was more serious, he was prepared.

he sat waiting at the doors for the agents who had gone on your mission to come back. he was ready to greet you but he never thought he would have seen KA/YO holding you slung over his shoulder covered in blood.

he immediately freezes as he watches KA/YO rush to Sage's office. but he quickly recovers and follows quickly behind silently.

when sage caught sight of your body, she grimaced knowing it was bad. she ordered everyone out and allowed her space to work.

cypher was left with no answers as to what happened, as he sat anxiously outside Sage's office he hears KA/YO's robotic voice informing Viper of what happened.

"they went to go flank A alone, but their cypher must have seen her coming. when we arrived at A-site they were gone with the spike, they must have ambushed y/n and left her there for us to find...it was..bad. skye was able to help a little bit but...when we got there, they were missing their hand. im pretty sure they were awake when they did it."

"bastards..."

cypher could feel his blood BOILING. it was one thing to knock someone out, it was another to mutilate someone while they were awake. that wasn't fighting, that was mere torture.

he knew in this job people would get hurt. but he never thought they would ever go this far.

he was greatful you had lived, but he felt a burning feeling in his body.

as viper walked by, she stoped and turned to simply say.

"i know she was special to you Cypher, but don't do anything stupid. we don't need two people to revive."

he stood in place before walking to his room, he would make sure they couldn't hurt you. EVER again.

at the peak of night, he slipped out of his room and headed towards the armoury. he grabbed a ghost and a phantom before quietly walking towards the loading dock. he would make them regret ever hurting you.

.......

in the morning, you were awoken to a tired looking sage.

"welcome back my child. you sure gave us a scare there. how do you feel?" she smiled wistfully

as she filled you in, you couldn't help but wonder where your partner was. typically he was by your bedside until you woke up.

"Ling...where is Cy?" you softly asked

she grinned at the nickname "don't worry, he is in brimstones office. your little boyfriend pulled a stunt to avenge you."

"oh god, is he ok? what did he do?" you sigh

"oh don't worry, he is fine! the agents who ambushed you on the other hand.."

you and sage converse for a while, before you see cypher nervously walk into the room

"my darling! how are you feeling? do you need anything?" he asks worriedly

"i feel good amir. don't worry. sage is taking good care of me!" you chuckle

he sighs in relief, he may have gotten a lecture (and maybe some cleaning duty...) but it was all worth it to see your face again.

☤ Sage ☤

full battle sage mode

she would grab an odin off her copies body and just start spraying.

"you will not kill my allies!"

the second the enemies were down, she rushes to your side to heal you.

she will work all night if she has to, as long as it brings you back to her

"please wake up dearest...i can't live without you."

sorry idk what to write for sage HELP

a/n: aaa tysm for the support on my last posts!! im so glad that people are enjoying these! :) im currently working on some other requests so stay tuned ^^!!

also i apologize for the delay!! i have kinda had a lack of motivation lately so i struggled to finish it...

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

False-Moon

So the publishers rejected my short story, but I figured yall might like it haha! Here:

The shining spectre of the holy sun dipped behind the clouds, and I watched it go. When the last ember of gold was dashed, I sparked my lantern and raised it up on its stick, twelve and a half men high. 

Night bloomed around me, darkness without the respite of a moon. Ours had fallen many springs ago, when the Dryads warred with the Harpies, who stole the moon to spite us. The gods had punished them, and there are no Harpies now, but no man nor god had been able to find the moon again. So we made do with my lantern.

Its post was carved living birch, taken from the corpses of fallen Dryad Warriors, each strip from a different corpse, held together by metal inlay. Under the flickering lamp-light, its runes were more serpent than silver, glinting and shifting slyly. It was a comfort, a stave against the weight on my duty.

The wind was bitter on the moors tonight, tall grass whipping at my ankles, chilling me through the layers of bark I bore. It would not hurt me, any more than the winter could kill an ancient oak, but I hated it all the same, for I had not the fortitude of my sleeping siblings, and it meant the night would be an even more unpleasant one.

I walked through the moor, lantern held high. it illuminated me in a too-small circle of gold. I was but a little sapling when the moon fell, of course, but I remembered the moon's blessing on me. It felt nothing like the thin lantern-light. 

The light had been silver, like my mother's greying hair, like the wolves that guarded our forest, like safety and wisdom. All I felt here was exhaustion. That, and fear. We did not venture out of the forest at night, and nothing separated me from the endless darkness. Nothing, except my false-moon.

I stopped in the middle of the field and looked up. I was not quite sure why I did as such, for there was nothing up there. I remembered a story my grandmother's grandmother told me, of a time when her grandmother had been a little girl, when there were stars in the sky, little shining dots like the freckles on a Human's skin, and when night was but an icy day, so perhaps it was a ghost of a memory. It was all gone now, in any case.

I wondered how long it would be ‘til the sun was gone too.

My steady feet carried me to the edge of the moor. Water rushed there, slick pebbles hard against the wood of my soles. I stepped into the stream, letting the flow part itself around my calves as I moved. My hands never faltered, never dropped low. They were aching, now, just a little.

Under my golden lantern, the river might well have been blood, the blood of all the wars we had held over the millennia. I could only catch the faintest glimpses of silver amidst the dark river, and that could have just been the moon's blood. 

I crossed the stream with no fuss, and stood on the ancient battlefield. Charred ground crumbled beneath my feet, a steady path made by my predecessors leading me forth. From within the tiny circle of illumination, I saw stumps of torrefied wood, my sleeping siblings dead from an agonising blaze. The elders had called it their due, for the dead-wood had sheltered our mortal enemies. I could only call it a sham, a shame, a horrible thing out of my nightmares. Treason, my elders would remind me, but true nonetheless.

The very air itself resisted my movements, as though the darkness did not want to be lit here, that the horrors that had occurred should not be revealed. In the daylight, perhaps, it would not have been quite so grim. The sun would have warmed the dead dirt, and I could have pretended not to feel the life-destroying salt beneath me.

Closing my eyes, I shook the unease off. It would find no mantle within me. Five years I had trained for this day, to do my people proud, to set the night alight. Yet, here I was, on the boundary between my people and our long-dead enemy, and I felt nothing but loss.

The ground was not burnt here, not yet. Grass still poked up between my toes, friendly and curious. My sleeping siblings, great oaks, smiled down at me, in the way they had done at home. I looked up at my little sphere of fire. It danced and gleamed within its cage of metal and glass, eager to unmake. 

I should have done what all my predecessors did, and broke that sphere, letting our wrath blaze, sending the Harpy-forest alight. It would please my elders, and brighten the endless darkness, returning that which the Harpies took from us for a brief night. 

I could have done what a few did, and walked away, returning my lantern unbroken and the forest unburnt. It would make the elders rage, and they would cast me out of their ranks, but at least I would not be a part of this travesty.

I did not do either of those things.

Instead, I set my stick firmly into the growing grass, where it stood tall. I got on one knee before my people's nemesis, and I bowed, the way I would have done at home, before my forest and my gods. My nose brushed against the dark earth, and I inhaled it. The scent was strange, with its char, yet familiar. It had once been a part of our forest too, once.

I knelt there, and I whispered a prayer. “Great old ones, my fallen brethren, my people's old enemies, hear me. I bring an apology. Forgive us, for our senseless violence. Forgive us, for making a farce of the moon's light with our fire. Forgive us, for we must end this cycle. The stars have all fallen. The moon is spirited away. When the sun is lost too, what hope will there be for any of our peoples? So— I take the first step and make amends. I am Entarai, daughter of warriors Jerai and Ilkoi, who were felled in the same battle that took your lives. I offer this lantern, and the fire within, and I beg you, with all my heart, forgive us and return our moon,” I said, not expecting a response.

There was none, of course. I had not the sensitivity of a druid, to hear the whispers of the dead, nor the skills of a necromancer to call them to me, so even if they had reached out, I would never know.

I got up, brushed the dirt out of the cracks on my bark. I pressed my cheekbones in a final orison, then turned and began the walk home. My miniature moon, the little lantern on its stick, disappeared behind me as I left the woods behind. 

Strangely, the darkness did not hold the same terror it once did.

My path back was marked by the indents of my feet, the path walked by me and every other lantern bearer for a hundred thousand moonless nights. Blind as I was, I could follow it back to my lands. I navigated the riverbank through its pebbles, my feet feeling blindly for the smooth slippery stone and the water that would follow. Whence I found it, I crawled on my hands and knees through the river, its coolness washing over me, soaking me to the core. 

Perhaps it was just a trick of my mind, but the stream no longer felt like blood.

[cannot-rest]

Ashley rare pair fics from Spec Reqs

Mass Effect rare pairs exchange @spectre-requisitions-exchange has revealed works! Here are the five Ashley ship-focused works (so far - people may yet add treats). The fShepley is strong this year!

Creators are anonymous until April 8 (coincidentally the start of Ashley Williams Appreciation Week).

Connection Lost by kesla fShepley, T rated, ~3900 words

Ashley Williams logs into an empty server. Williams 22:12 > you were a pain in everyone's ass shepard > epaulets shinier than your damn regulation shoes > half the time we'd wrap a convo with me feeling like you were short a punch in the face > but look. i like confidence. especially in my COs. ESPECIALLY in my female COs. even if that CO is annoying as hell and dumb as bricks > and that's how you got me.

Going Up by Kahika Willarian, G rated, ~2500 words

It starts in, of all places, an elevator. Or: Five times Garrus and Ashley rode the elevator and one time they took the stairs.

From: Ashley by CoaxionUnlimited fShepley, G rated, ~1100 words

They had the funeral yesterday. I shouldn’t be emailing you about this, but God only knows that I’m not going to take up journaling. Sarah would never shut up about it.

The Crack In Everything by FerindenCadash fShepley, T rated, ~1600 words

After her own near-death experience, Ashley has questions about Shepard's death.

Tell Me When by jusbeinkt what are we going to call Ashley/Samantha? I'm thinking Trayliams atm, E rated, ~3500 words

Chief Williams: Your orders for TDY are enclosed. One of our civilian engineers, Samantha Traynor, is currently visiting family on Horizon. She's a tech genius. I recommend connecting with her while on site. Anderson P.S. Reports are confirmed. Shepard is alive and flying with Cerberus. I thought you'd want to know. A comms emergency on Horizon results in an unexpected encounter. Written for Spectre Requisitions 2024.

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

Hi hello and howdy

Since I can't contain my thoughts here's all the "Mirage" logicistics. Basically they either swap or enhance ones personality, heres a few examples:

Mirage Lenore is way more looney and impulsive, with a practically nonexistant off switch having to be dragged off screaming before she sets anything on fire, her group mainly sticks with her for fear of their own lives and she and Annabel are ALLOWED TO BE GAY!!! HOORAY!!! They still have the pretend to hate each other thing but thats mainly due to Annabel's paranoia

Mirage Duke is a shit magician who constantly looses parts of his tricks, he's also like WAYYY too overdramatic, the kinda mf to fall over if you steal his chip,

"MY CHIP!!"

"Its... its just a crisp.."

"I WAS GOING TO EAT THAT!"

"Oh my god..."

So yeah, pathetic cringefail looser LMFAO, but he is the kinda person to pull a "OMG MY BEST FRIEND! MOVE!" And shove whoever out of his way

Mirage Pluto is if you took a wet cat and made him a golden retriever. He's very hyperactive, social, easily distracted. Mf is like "wanna hear abt my hyperfixations?!" Talks and doesn't wait for an answer a neat thing i did with some characters Mirage's is i inverted stuff abt them like hair, emblems, all that. He still thinks M! Duke's magic is cool

Mirage Berenice is a feral little creature, constantly biting or nibbling on things (mainly Eulalies arm, or her own. I dont think chewlery exists in the victorian era). She's also the queen of being unhinged, in spectre form shes somewhat normal at least. For the most part she's in her own world

Mirage Eulalie is the mean autistic, less into creepy/old things n thinks their lame and/or weird. She's the one dragging Berenice around and keeping the gang from falling apart. Her and M! Morella really out here sharing the only group braincell, shes also blunt as fuck and wont hesitate to tell you you look bad. I wanted to lean more into the japanese part of her character so she just kinda- speaks more of it now (lol idk how else to explain it)

Mirage Morella, like M! Eulalie, is a mean autistic. She's less emotional, and more of "I dont give a damn just get me out of here.", sticks with whatever group she's feelin that day tbh. Won't tell you you look bad, will probably just call you a dumbass and leave

Mirage Annabel is kinda like regular Annabel but without the "Life is like chess" mentality. So more jumpy, kinda a walking talking mental breakdown waiting to happen. Excess paranoia and increase of hallucinations cus pookie and I decided we aren't giving her a break

Mirage Prospero is no longer fancy and polite, he is sopping wet germaphobic wet cat. He will go through great lengths to avoid disease, faints around blood and puke, screams at the sight of his own rats (or just rats/bugs in general), actively raising his and Annabel's blood pressure with how scardy he is.

Mirage Montresor is imo the funniest one cuz he's just a polite little gentleman, doin all the chivalry shit like opening doors, pushing chairs in and out, saying his pleases/thank yous/welcomes, he's even calling everyone "Sir" and "Ma'am". He's still an asshole, but you really gotta provoke him to see that

Tbh, I didn't think much abt Mirage Will since Will to me is kinda just there as Monty's lackey who gets kicked around. SO he's less of a pushover, more demanding, up and refuses what people tell him, bullies M! Monty, he tried bullying M! Ada and M! Morella but bro got his ass kicked. On top of it, he's unfortunately more sexist and stubborn. No more people pleasing ig 🤷‍♀️

Finally, Mirage Ada. What I wanted to do for her is have her be an absolute girlboss who is always serving 100% of the time. Everything she does is her choice and for her and her friends, and and and shes Aroace too, pretty chill when she has to reject someone just like:

"Hey i like u"

"Oh! I don't feel the same but we can still be friends?"

"Ok"

EPIC HIGH FIVE

She also beat M! Will up, good for her

So uh, yeah! Thats all i got. If you have questions, feel free to comment or ask in the askbox. :)

[tomorrowxtogether]

The 10 best Tomorrow X Together songs

Ahead of the boyband’s 2024 ‘Act: Promise’ world tour, NME picks the best cuts from their enchanting back catalogue 

There’s always been something magical about Tomorrow X Together, even before they started adding elements of enchantment to their music in late-2019. Over their first five years together, the Big Hit Music boyband have been consistently spellbinding in their approach to sharing their experiences of youth, whether weaving colourful creations in their early days or dialling up the angst as they screeched into young adulthood.

Along with their penchant for genre-hopping, it all makes for a vibrant back catalogue that doesn’t always follow the expected path. TXT will always keep you guessing and never stay in one spot for too long. Ahead of their upcoming 2024 ‘Act: Promise’ world tour, which kicks off next month in Seoul, NME looks back on their enchanting catalogue.

Honourable mentions

‘Blue Spring’ (2023) ‘MOA Diary (Dubaddu Wari Wari)’ (2021) ‘Puma’ (2020) ‘Wishlist’ (2020) ‘LO$ER=LO♡ER’ (2021)

10. ‘Ghosting’ (2020)

The opening track of 2020’s ‘minisode 1: Blue Hour’ glistens in its gloominess. Through clouds of shoegaze-y guitars, the five-piece tell stories of friends who’ve become like spectres and the isolation that comes with growing apart from those you love. It’s a beautiful piece of songwriting that highlights TXT’s knack for taking trending lingo and using it to share their tales of youth.

9. ‘New Rules’ (2019)

Since their beginning, Tomorrow X Together have served as guides and companions through life and that’s no different on ‘New Rules’. The funky hip-hop track details rebellious phases sparked by the frustrations of life, piled on by social media, teachers and class. If you’re looking for a way to break free from it all, this addictive cut will help you.

8. ‘Can’t You See Me?’ (2020)

Even without watching the flame-filled music video for ‘Can’t You See Me?’, you can feel the scorching emotions that course through the song. Rather than showcasing them in the big rock anthemics that would come later in TXT’s journey, it’s the more seemingly subdued moments that sizzle here. “With resentment, my heart is heavy / ‘Cause you don’t understand me,” Beomgyu and Hueningkai murmur in the second verse, every ounce of that weight pouring through their words.

7. ‘Good Boy Gone Bad’ (2022)

On the lead track from 2022’s ‘minisode 2: Thursday’s Child’, TXT fully embrace the moment when it feels like you’ve hit an emotional rock bottom. Instead of wallowing in the misery, they make it their new super power – there’ll be no more “pathetic days” left on the calendar when you rise up with hearts “gone dead”. Set to searing rock, it’s become one of the most electrifying moments in the group’s concerts, not least Yeonjun’s bridge that ends in the laughter of someone truly cold-hearted and the declaration: “I like being bad.”

6. ‘Crown’ (2019)

The song that started it all. Tomorrow X Together’s debut single ushered in a boyband who sounded refreshingly bright but, beneath the bubbling synths, were dealing with the complicated growing pains of adolescence. Years on from its release, it still feels like a perfect snapshot of the dichotomy of youth – at once energetic, curious, self-doubting and concerned.

5. ‘Tinnitus (Wanna Be a Rock)’ (2023)

The boyband dabble in Afro-pop on this standout from ‘The Name Chapter: Temptation’. Despite its slinky rhythms that are practically a call to groove onto the dancefloor, lyrically it finds the group wanting to sink into a stillness caused by a crisis of confidence. “Rockstar minus the star / Just a rock, OK?” Taehyun sighs, preparing to descend.

4. ‘0X1=LOVESONG (You Know I Love You)’ (2021)

The moment TXT leaned all the way into the raw, serrated sensitivities of emo. With the help of featured singer Seori, ‘0X1=LOVESONG’ wears its feelings on its sleeve so viscerally it’s hard not to get swept up in its storm of emotion. Although the five-piece’s storyline would later disavow the need for connection, here it was still an essential, the group crying out for a loved one to “take my hand” and save them from being swallowed up by life.

3. ‘I’ll See You There Tomorrow’ (2024)

The concept of fate emerges on this sunkissed house jam, the beats forming a linking pattern between TXT and the person they believe is “meant to be”. ‘I’ll See You There Tomorrow’ is fresh and breezy, while its post-chorus refrain of “there’ll be no more sorrow, I’ll see you there tomorrow” could serve as a slogan for the comfort that spills out of the group’s catalogue.

2. ‘9 and Three Quarters (Run Away)’ (2019)

The title track of ‘The Dream Chapter: Magic’ more than lives up to the sorcery in the album’s title. Sprinkled with sparkling melodies that form the aural equivalent of the magic dust that accompanies wands casting spells in movies, the song captured the heart of much of TXT’s early storyline. It’s an ode to friendship and the feeling of finding people to run alongside you as you buckle up for the rollercoaster of life.

1. ‘Eternally’ (2020)

Tomorrow X Together have never been ones to shy away from trying something new, and that spirit quietly fuels ‘Eternally’, the stand-out track from ‘The Dream Chapter: Eternity’. What starts out as a gentle lullaby pleading soon morphs into something darker and prowling. The beat switch is tellingly signalled by a rapid-fire gunshot and the verse that follows feels like a villain origin story. That the group are able to pull off the revolving door of switch-ups on this track with such elegance is nothing short of impressively exhilarating.

[questintheskies]

–We first saw you at Battle in the Valley in San Jose, where you attacked Shota Umino. You haven’t been a part of AEW since the summer; why did you choose to come to NJPW?

Perry: Well Japan for me is an opportunity, not to start over, but start a new chapter without having to apologise or pretend to be sorry for the actions of other people. It’s a way that I can stay true to myself and continue to grow despite everything that’s gone on.

–After you targeted Shota Umino in San Jose, you ripped up your AEW contract. What was going through your mind in that moment?

Perry: Ripping that contract was a declaration ‘I’m not playing by your rules anymore’. If (AEW) are too afraid to have me anymore, if the spectre of Jack Perry is too much, they don’t want to deal with the conversations, the ramifications that brings, then that’s fine.

–Certainly your last moments in AEW were very controversial.

Perry: I don’t need them. I will go by myself across the world, all by myself, without any of my friends, without any of the things I’m used to, anything that’s been my life for the last five years, and I’ll do it on my own, make my own way.

–So with that in mind, can we say you’re no longer AEW’s Jack Perry? Are you NJPW’s Jack Perry? A freelancing Jack Perry? Or HOUSE OF TORTURE’s Jack Perry?

Perry: Some of these things are unclear even to me, but I would say this- loyalty is a two way street, and I show loyalty to those who are loyal to me. As of now, certain parties have been very good to me, and I intend to repay that.

The only reason you ever do anything for other people is to get something in return

–Why of all people would you target Shota Umino when you made your first steps in NJPW?

Perry: The thing about Shota is there are a lot of similarities between him now and who I used to be. He’s a young guy, a good looking guy. And I can see when I look at him that he’s really doing everything he does for the people. The only reason you ever do anything for other people is to get something in return.

–Shota Umino was labelled last year as one of the ‘Reiwa Three Musketeers’, not unlike how AEW positioned you as one of its ‘Four Pillars’.

Perry: Yeah, I was a golden boy once, I was a ‘pillar’ if you will. I really let other people’s perceptions of me guide my actions. But at the end of the day I wasn’t seeing the results I wanted to. I realised I was never going to perform optimally if I was worried about the expectations of other people. That’s the position he’s in right now. If he was to be honest with himself, he’s not getting the results that he wants to have. The moment he realises that it’s other people’s expectations that are holding him down, he will be way better off for it.

–How do you feel about Shota Umino’s connections to Jon Moxley? 

Perry: It’s interesting that even though we’ve worked in the same company, I’ve never crossed paths in the ring with Jon Moxley. He’s pretty much universally respected, somebody that calls himself the Ace of the World, and there’s a good case for that. But when it comes to him and Shota… From personal experience, I used to have a mentor, and there’s a lot you can get from that, but at a certain point there are things you can’t figure out unless you’re on your own. He needs to have the balls to step away from the comfort of someone who’s been around much longer and can lay the foundations for you. I’m sure he’s benefitted a lot from Moxley. Let’s see what you’ve got when it’s just you.

I’m not shying away from the blame

–Can you sum up exactly what the ‘Scapegoat’ name means to you?

Perry: I think it’s ingrained in human nature to be afraid of blame, and the disapproval of others. At the end of the day, that’s weakness. That’s a weak mindset, a weak soul. If you know the truth, what good is the opinion of other people? If you know the truth, you have power. I’m not shying away from the blame. If you need me to be the Scapegoat because you don’t have the bravery to stand up for your own actions, then that’s fine. I’m man enough to take that blame from all of us and I’m not going to shy away from it. 

–Certainly anyone who joins HOUSE OF TORTURE has to be comfortable with accepting blame and hate. Did you feel a connection to H.O.T, or did you simply feel that you wanted to be with the most hated faction in professional wrestling?

Perry: I wasn’t really expecting what’s come about, but I’m certainly not upset about it. I almost feel comfortable here now. Being one of if not probably the most hated wrestlers in North America, as I start a new chapter in Japan, why not pick up as I left off? As I said, people, especially where I came from, are afraid. They don’t want to confront what’s looking at them in the eyes. These guys aren’t afraid. They deal with all this sh*t from people every day. I respect that. Deal with it, move forward and be who you want to be, not what people expect you to be. 

–Ren Narita has taken a very similar path to your own, connected to Shota Umino and now in HOUSE OF TORTURE. Do you feel a lot in common with him?

Perry: Definitely Ren and I have shared a similar path. I’ve been in a few teams in my career, and there’s a lot you can get from a good partner, a lot you can learn about yourself. but at the end of the day, everyone has to make the decision to bet on themselves. I respect that he had the confidence and the balls to make the decision he had to make.

The reaction I know I’m going to get is exactly what this is all about

–Narita has said that HOUSE OF TORTURE represents ‘true Strong Style’, which is an opinion a lot of fans take issue with. Coming from outside, what does the idea of Strong Style mean to you?

Perry: I would say HOUSE OF TORTURE represents what I understand Strong Stye to be. I think at the start of my wrestling career I was so caught up in this idea of ‘virtue’ of following the rules and doing what it is you’re supposed to do. I’ve seen first hand more than anyone, what does any of that really matter? People in real life can’t tell a good guy from a bad guy when they’re staring them right in the face. The most important thing is whether or not you’re successful. Instead of sacrificing yourself for these morals you think are so important, sometimes it’s being underhanded that gets you where you want to be.

 –You defeated Umino in Ota at Anniversary, and now it’s a direct rematch in Chicago. There’s no doubt you’ll be public enemy number one there. What do you expect to be different in this rematch April 12?

Perry: I imagine people think I’ll be off my game in Chicago, and they couldn’t be more wrong. I’m absolutely thrilled to be back in the Windy City. The reaction that I know I’m going to get is exactly what this is all about. I’ve made it very clear that I’m not going to apologise to anybody, and I won’t pretend that things didn’t go down the way they did. I can’t wait to be in front of all these people who think they know what it’s all about, hearing what they think of me. I’ll be in my home country, but it doesn’t feel like my home anymore. So Shota, come over, give me your best shot, but if you think it’s going to be any easier, you’re sadly mistaken.

[never-ending-fanfic]

For the WIP Ask Game anything to share on ‘Five things the Spectres found out about Kallus and one he told them himself’? I’m always obsessed with Kallus slowly opening up the Ghost crew

Oh thanks for asking! 🩷 And yes, I absolutely do have stuff to share about that! And I agree, Kallus slowly getting closer with the Ghost Crew is something so dear

With this one, it's a 5+1 fic and the main theme is- as the title says- things about Kallus that he keeps to himself and the Ghost Crew uncovers. I have a list of things abut Kallus attached to the crew members

Past- Ezra (it's mostly connected to his backstory as a Sewer Rat/Street Kid in the lower levels on Coruscant- my favourite trope ever)

Guilt- Sabine (I like to think about Sabine and Kallus Being Besties™- and there's such a huge potential too. Kallus and Sabine both being defectors and having similar pasts- at least about academy and the Empire- us just so much to work with! So here Sabine catches Kallus having a quiet panic attack ambecause he spiralled himself down to it with overthinking- she helps him calm down and they talk about defecting from the Empire and the guilt that comes with changing sides)

Overworking- Rex (the clone captain wanders around the base because he can't sleep, he figures he might take a calm, quiet walk at night- and then he sees Kallus sitting on the floor outside of the Intelligence HQ with a datapad and a few pages of reports on flimsi- he asks what he's doing there, since it's already around midnight and he looks like he needs sleep. Kallus says that he needs to work and that Draven literally pushed him out of the room when he was closing it for the night so Kallus just stayed and worked here- Rex rightfully calls it stupid and forces Kallus to have a walk with him- they take a break around the temple and as they sit and watch the base and the nature and the stars Kallus falls asleep on Rex's shoulder- this is also a friendship I cherish in fics, okay? 🩵)

Food- Kanan (when they eat in the mess or on the Ghost and Kallus is with them, Kanan notices something- he might be blind but he's the first one to realise that Kallus barely eats. And so he carries on with an idea already forming in his head and alongside that he realises Kallus never asks for medical help either or any help for that matter. Like he's trying to make himself as little liability as possible. He corners Kallus about that and after a lot of pushing, Kqllus finally breaks out a "I don't want you to waste resources on me". Oh believe me, they're gonna have a long talk)

Birthday- Hera (it's a foreign thing for Kallus to celebrate one's birthday- because the Empire sucks- and so after seeing how strange and out of place he looked when the crew threw a party for Sabine, Hera made a point to look through his file and throw him a party when it's his birthday 💚)

+1 Name- Kallus shares with Zeb (I just NEED Zeb to be the one to hear that, okay? A name is something so important about one's identity amd person and Zeb having shared his name of Bahryn with Kallus is just gonna make a full circle when Kallus shares his name with Zeb)

I love this wip dearly and I might work on it soon, since you already reminded me of its existence 🩷💕🩷

[upwards-descent]

Redemption

(Good guy TotK Ganondorf AU)

Link watched the clouds leisurely glide past the Temple of Time. It stood like some stalwart soldier over the floating island, a beacon that made him feel as safe as it did uneasy. His head had been hurting since he came to and as he skidded down the beaten path, he couldn't help but grimace.

"I'm sorry," The ghostly image of Rauru sat nearby, his chin propped up in his palm. It was weird to witness, seeing that it was now Link's own hand. Or was it? He winced as his head throbbed. "I wish I had more answers for you but so much time has flown by. I'm... Mainly passing on messages now."

"I don't even understand what that means, you're being esoteric," Link snapped back but there was no true heat in his words, only pain. His arm hurt, too, and the ping between his bicep and temple felt like his nerves were being juggled around. "Either you do know or you don't know where Zelda is, I don't really care about anything else at this point."

Rauru's melancholy sigh was the only answer he needed.

At least the Constructs were pleasant, the non-hostile ones at least. They reminded Link of the old Guardian technology, when they weren't corrupt with Malice. Sweet Hylia, he'd barely rested across five years and now here he was once more, Hyrule in peril, Zelda lost, and a piece of himself missing.

"There's someone awaiting you at the Temple." Rauru reappeared, an arm slung around a tree.

"Yes, you told me."

"No..." His voice went quiet, eyes narrowing. "Someone else. Someone... Different. Keep your guard up and your wits about you."

Link had half a mind to flip the spectre off but felt it'd be going too far. He was tired, his body ached, and the frustration he felt within himself writhed burning heat in his chest. Instead, he forged onward.

There was in fact someone waiting for him.

He was a large man with long flowing red hair, dressed in garb Link recognized as some Gerudo style. What appeared to be a sword was lain out at his knees and the Hylian understood it was a position of submission, of surrender. Regardless, he unsheathed the weighty stick slung across his back and approached with confidence.

"And who the hell are you?" Link demanded, stopping at the top of the ruined staircase. The air up here was somewhat warm at least, in the light of the sun. "I've been told to watch out which really doesn't give me... A lot..."

His grip tightened and he held his weapon in a more threatening manner. Some spark of recognition tugged a scowl at his lips.

"You look familiar. Like that... Corpse we found under the castle," Link growled. He leveled the stick at the man's head. "Who are you? Answer me before I let action speak instead."

The man looked up at him and the Hylian nearly flinched. Though Link himself rarely wore his emotions openly, simply as an aspect of his personality, he was pretty good at reading other people instead. There was a great sadness on the man's face that drew in his heavy brows and touched at his frown.

"... I am Ganondorf, leader of the Gerudo," His voice wasn't as deep as Link expected given how large he was but he spoke with some degree of command that couldn't be ignored. "I... I only ask you hear my story first. After that, it's your call whether or not to slay me. I wouldn't exactly blame you for lashing out."

"Watch yourself," Rauru stood nearby, probably unseen by the strange Gerudo man. "This man, as I know him, is the greatest threat against Hyrule in our entire history."

Link held back the urge to heave a loud sigh. He was so tired. Still holding up his weapon, he gave a casual sort of flourish to urge his words further.

"Long ago, when the gods were nearer to the ground below," Ganondorf began. He sat up straighter but the sadness never left his eyes. "I was a chosen leader of prophecy. As had been foretold in my people's history, a male Gerudo is born only once every 100 years and is expected to lead. I was... Or at least, I tried to be what my kin deserved," Link questioned if Rauru was visible as the Gerudo seemed to glance forlornly in his vague direction. "I lead with pride and a steady hand. I listened to the complaints, the concerns, and dedicated every bit of energy I had to bettering our situation. The desert can be cruel but... It's our home."

"I've never heard of a male Gerudo," Link interjected, eyes narrowing. "And trust me, I'm closer to them than you'd think."

"The Gerudo... Persist?" The first glimmer of life lit up Ganondorf's eyes. "I see. Unfortunately, it's because of me that the legend is no longer spoken, or at least I can assume," Link watched as a broad hand kneaded at his chest above his heart. "See, there's a second prophecy I have unfortunately found myself tangled in. I can sense it's one that effects you, too."

The Hylian quickly glanced over at Rauru's ghostly image and he had the gall to shrug.

"Oh," Ganondorf's eyes widened. "I can sense the power within you, but you... Do you know of the Triforce?"

"Only because Zelda has a passion for history," Link let down his guard for a moment, brows knitting in confusion. "It's a big artifact, holy light, gifted to humanity by the ancient goddesses or something like that. I've... Seen her use a power that looked incredibly similar before but..."

"These are strange times indeed," Ganondorf muttered before refocusing. "Regardless. I have to assume that she and I and probably you are the three destined champions chosen by the Triforce, and by extension the gods. It's... A whole other history for another day but all you need to know is that the branch that effects me has been corrupted. Before any of our times, when the universe was young, an ancient evil--"

"Listen, if you're pleading for your life right now," Link cut him off by adjusting his stance, holding up his weapon with confidence once more. "I don't think a whole library's worth of storytelling is gonna convince me either way. Can you give me the short version?"

"Yes, of course," Ganondorf seemed bewildered but shook it off and continued. "I've essentially been cursed. That... Corpse was in fact me but it also wasn't me. As I grew into a man and matured, a powerful evil was sewn into my very soul. I was slowly taken over, used like a puppet by the shadows, until only my subconscious was my own. My thoughts, my words, my actions; perverted by this great evil."

Link felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when Rauru pulled an odd expression, like some great revelation was dawning on him.

"Though it was my hand that threatened Hyrule long ago, it wasn't by my will," Ganondorf frowned and huffed. "However, as I was imprisoned for millennia, the powerful magic of the Zonai--"

"Me," Rauru mumbled, as if that made anything clear. "He's... Referring to me."

"--The spell acted like a slow exorcism. That corpse is made of pure evil, mimicking my appearance," The Gerudo laid a hand over his heart in earnest. "I've been cleansed and... Now I have to make things right."

Suddenly, he shifted and Link dared to take a step forward, tightening his grip on the wooden club. Instead, Ganondorf laid his palms flat on the ground and touched his forehead to the pale stone beneath him.

"Spare me, don't, I only ask that you use me so I may pay for my sins," He begged, his voice thick with emotion. "I've watched through eyes clouded by hate, powerless, as innocent people were slain, as the world was torn asunder. Use me and let me correct these wrongs. Use me and we shall prevail to slay the true evil that's been left behind."

[commander-krios]

I can now reveal my Shenko Summer fic for @dandenbo. <3 I'm so happy you enjoyed it! Special shoutout to my beta, @comeoniwantacoolname for always helping me out!

Title: Reflections and Regrets Rating: Teen Pairing: MShepard/Kaidan Alenko Summary:

Five times Kaidan nearly confessed his feelings to Shepard and the one time he did.

Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 5+1, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Major Character Injury

~~~~

-1-

Smoke.

Kaidan could still smell the smoke on his clothing, mixed with salt water and conductive fluid. He'd intended to change after a long hot shower, but the debrief had taken the rest of his energy, and he hadn’t moved since. Sitting in the silent comm room, he hunched over, hands hanging between his knees, eyes staring at nothing in particular. 

The edges of his vision blurred and he closed his eyes, images of the battlefield as clear as the Virmire skies had been barely a few hours ago. The shake in Ashley’s voice as her pleas echoed in his ears: ‘get Alenko, Skipper. That bomb needs to go off.’

Shepard’s insistence that he could get both of them to safety, that it was important that they all survived this, that he wasn’t going to leave a man behind.

Shepard’s turmoil as realization set in, and the impossible choice he made at the very last moment…

Ashley .

She’d paid the ultimate price so the rest of them could escape, so that the bomb could take out the cloning facility. So that Saren’s krogan army was reduced to nothing but ash and bones, a smoking pile of ruins and dust amid the salty seas.

Sure, Kaidan was grateful to be alive, but not like this, not at the expense of someone else. Especially not Ashley Williams.

A sigh escaped, loud in the silent room. Kaidan stretched his legs out in front of him, willing the stiff muscles to relax. The haunted look in Shepard’s eyes before the debrief was burned into his memory. 

Maybe Shepard regretted his decision. Kaidan certainly did.

The smallest groan left his lips as he stood, his calves still protesting the movement. There was too much to do before they docked at the Citadel. He needed to clean his armor, and himself. He had a report to write about the situation on Virmire. He had a marine detachment to talk to, Mako repairs to oversee, and somewhere in there, he should probably eat, but as he turned towards the exit, he paused.

The sight of Shepard standing in the open doorway was unexpected. The lights of the CIC illuminated him from behind, leaving his face in shadow, his body outlined in white. He was a silent spectre, eyes shrouded in darkness, a ghost haunting his own ship.

A chill ran down Kaidan’s spine, his mind once again wondering if this is what other people saw whenever they came across the Butcher of Torfan.

“I was just leaving.” Kaidan managed, running a hand through his curls, wincing when his fingers caught on the strands. 

“I-” Shepard hesitated, stepping into the dim room, eyes downcast. The glow from the overhead lights only put more shadows along his face, creases that weren’t there yesterday now visible along his brow. “No, you’re fine. I- need to check in with the Council. Let them know the mission is done.”

They’d almost failed… Would the Council even care that they’d lost a human to Saren’s madness? Was one life worth the information they’d gained? One life for total destruction of Wrex’s hope for the krogan. One life for an entire squad of STG soldiers. One life that meant nothing to the people who lived in the relative safety of the Citadel.

What was one life to them?

“I’ll give you some privacy.” 

Kaidan tried his best to stamp down the grief in his heart. He knew Shepard had to be feeling it even worse. It was his call in the end. Shepard would be the one to deal with the consequences, good or bad. Kaidan followed the orders he’d been given. 

He knew that the haunted look in Shepard’s blue eyes was reflected in his as well. 

Kaidan found himself standing in front of his Commander a few heartbeats later, his hand on Shepard’s shoulder, squeezing gently in what he hoped translated as comfort, as support. 

The other man glanced at him, eyes wide in uncertainty. 

“Commander-”

His grip tightened slightly, Shepard’s jaw tensing as he tried to pick his words with care.

Kaidan resisted the urge to pull Shepard into an embrace, to comfort away the pain, the fear, the regret that so clearly tortured him. He wanted to smooth the lines in his forehead, to wipe away the tears, to take the weight of a galaxy off of his shoulders. There weren't many things he could do in this situation, except be there to help when he inevitably took the fall. He wanted to catch Shepard when the galaxy tried to break him.

But he couldn’t .

Shepard was his commander, yes, but he was also his friend. And his feelings had nothing to do with the man himself. He wouldn’t further complicate what was between them.

“I know you don’t hear this often, but you did the right thing on Virmire, even if it doesn’t feel like it. That cloning facility needed to be destroyed.” 

Shepard’s strained smile was full of the sadness he’d never put words to. “Do you really believe that? After everything we’ve lost?”

Kaidan did, even if he regretted what happened, because the galaxy was worth preserving. There were people that needed protecting and they at least had a fighting chance to stop Saren now. But none of that mattered when Shepard met his gaze, the pain in his eyes stabbing Kaidan in the gut.

“I’ll be in the mess when you’re done, Shepard. I’m sure there’s something stronger than coffee lying around.” 

Even if no amount of alcohol could fix their problems, they could at least send Ashley off properly.

“You’re a good friend, Alenko. I’m glad you’re here.”

Neither of them said the obvious: Kaidan was there because someone else wasn’t .

Someone who probably deserved it more.

-2-

The hum of the drive core was comforting, the ripples of its mass effect fields washing over him and the blue glow a safety he craved in his most vulnerable moment. With a sigh, Kaidan relaxed against the farthest wall from the core, sliding to the floor, settling comfortably in the corner so anyone coming and going wouldn’t trip over him. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he closed his eyes. The dark energy tickled at the edge of his senses and his own biotics responded in kind, an intimate dance between them.

The silence in engineering was welcome, especially after the insanity on the Citadel. The Council had immediately dismissed Shepard’s claims about Reapers, placing the entirety of the blame on Saren and the Geth. Then the Alliance decided the best use of Shepard and his crew was to put them on lockdown. Captain Anderson, of all people, helped them steal the Normandy from the docking bay…

And now, they were on their way to Ilos to face Saren head on before he could get the conduit, whatever that was.

Kaidan wished it was all over with because he felt like he could sleep for the next few years. Or centuries.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when boots scuffed against the floor.

He managed to open his eyes slightly as Shepard sat beside him, their shoulders brushing, a kind smile on his face when he glanced over at Kaidan. “Hiding?”

“Is it that obvious?” He responded, a laugh escaping despite the pounding in his head, and he forced his eyes closed again. The migraines usually gave a little more warning than this so he’d been a bit surprised at the intensity of it. With a pained groan, he leaned his head back against the bulkhead, pressing a finger into his temple. “I’ll be alright in a little bit. The silence down here helps.”

Kaidan didn’t have to see Shepard’s face to feel him tense. “Kaidan-”

Patting Shepard’s hand affectionately, he tried to ignore the way his heart jumped at the sound of his given name on Shepard’s tongue. “I’ll be fine, Shepard. I promise.”

The commander muttered something under his breath, something that probably wasn’t very nice, but he couldn’t make out the words. Silence descended between them: companionable, comforting, and altogether more satisfying than it’d been before.

The humming of the drive core was still a pleasant white noise in the background and the cold metal of the wall behind him soothed his sweaty skin, keeping the nausea at bay. He opened his eyes a crack, unable to stop from staring at the man next to him.

Shepard was bathed in blue-white light, shadows dancing playfully across his face. He appeared strong, severe and yet, Kaidan felt nothing but peace and safety in his presence. His azure eyes nearly glowed in the dark, his skin an ocean of blues and whites, dotted with the tiniest smattering of freckles and scars.

He’d admired Shepard from afar for the last six months: watching him defend those that couldn’t defend themselves, feeling pride at how Shepard attempted diplomacy and understanding before resorting to violence, being witness to how every loss etched itself into his commander’s very soul.

It wasn’t long before Shepard caught him watching. With a quirk of his lips, he leaned his own head back to meet Kaidan’s eyes. “See something you like, LT?”

He was tempted to respond with an affirmative, to admit that he dreamed of Shepard at night alone in his bunk, that he wanted to press kisses along that strong jaw, or to brush his hands down Shepard’s back as he pulled him closer…

Clearing his throat, Kaidan glanced at the room’s light source, closing his eyes as the brightness made his migraine pulse angrily. Moaning, he leaned forward, his head dropping into his hands.

Shepard’s hand gripped him by the shoulder, keeping him from falling forward. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “ Hey . What can I do?”

Kaidan’s hands shook as he pulled them from his face. He kept his eyes closed, trying to make sense of what was happening around him over the throbbing in his skull. “The lights. Too much.”

“Why aren’t you in the medbay?” 

“Liara. Ilos Prep. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

Shepard grunted before he shifted away, taking his warmth as he stood. Then he leaned down to put Kaidan’s arm around his shoulders, pulling him to his feet. It took a few seconds for Kaidan’s brain to catch up with the movement. He wobbled momentarily until Shepard steadied him… his free arm wrapping around Kaidan’s waist and securing him tightly against his own body.

“What’re you-”

“Shh.” Shepard moved forward, keeping Kaidan’s weight supported with each step. “I’m getting you out of here and somewhere better to sleep this off. I need you on Ilos.”

Kaidan wished Shepard needed him in other ways, and he would probably scold himself for such thoughts later, but it didn’t make the desire any less real.

“Where-” The question wouldn’t come out so he stopped speaking, his brain feeling like it was going to melt out of his ears.

“My cabin. It’s cold, dark, and far away from everyone.” Shepard lifted a finger when Kaidan made to argue as best as he could. “Do this as a favor to me.”

If Kaidan was feeling like himself at all, he would’ve protested, telling Shepard that he knew better than to believe that taking the Captain’s quarters wasn’t a breach of whatever fragile friendship they had left, and he wasn’t ready for what that meant. Not when the galaxy was falling down around them.

But his brain wouldn’t respond, no amount of prodding did anything except make his migraine worse, so he allowed Shepard to herd him in silence, ignoring the raised eyebrows and confused looks the crew sent them when they passed.

Shepard’s cabin was cool, the air circulator keeping it at a low yet comfortable temperature. The lights were already dimmed and Kaidan’s eyes (and head) were thankful for the reprieve. He collapsed on the soft blankets, burying his face in the scent of Alliance-issued soap. It wasn’t anything special, but it smelled like Shepard. 

Shepard pulled Kaidan’s boots off and dumped them to the side for later, not bothering to line them up like a good soldier would. Then he helped to get Kaidan in a comfortable position, head on a pillow, blankets piled on top of him in a cocoon. Once he was situated satisfactorily, Shepard sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

“Did you need anything else?”

Kaidan swore that Shepard’s touch brushed against his forehead, twirling a curl around his finger before it disappeared altogether.

“‘M good, thanks.”

Kaidan was nearly asleep when Shepard moved, leaving him on the bed alone. His eyes shut as he spied Shepard in the chair across the room, a sentinel watching over him while he slept.

-3-

Mayday! Mayday, this is the SSV Normandy!

The words echoed in his ears as Kaidan pushed his way through the chaos, dodging terrified crewmen and dangling cables, sparks exploding in dangerous arcs. The ship shuddered beneath his feet, nearly knocking him to the ground. He grabbed on to the closest object, the mess hall table, and thanked his lucky stars that the thing was bolted to the floor. Or what remained of it.

A quick glance confirmed what he already knew: the ship was barely holding together. Fires had broken out across the deck, the emergency fire system soaked the floors, adding even more danger to the crew's haste to escape. Gripping his helmet tightly, Kaidan forced it over his head, coughing against the thick black smoke as he waited for the seals to engage.

A hiss sounded as oxygen filled his helmet and he took a deep breath, attempting to orient himself in the chaos.

Taking a step away from the table, he noted a partially burned body to the right. The familiar buzzcut of Talitha Draven made his heart jump into his throat, grief burning in his chest as he continued on, needing to find Shepard. He tried to convince himself it was to get orders, but he was truly worried. Comms were spotty and he hadn’t heard from Shepard since the attack began.

Another few bodies caught his attention as he made his way to where the distress beacon waited to be launched, each new face making his heart heavier. He knew each and every one of these people and now… now they were gone and for what? Hunting geth that weren’t a threat anymore? Doing the Council’s dirty work while there were other things to prepare for?

Like the Reapers?

And the end of galactic civilization?

The Council was blind and sometimes, as much as he hated himself for it, he wondered if Shepard had made the right choice in saving them. Only time would truly tell if they would help end the Reaper threat or only made everyone else’s choices more difficult.

The familiar sight of John’s N7 armor filled his vision, stopping the dark turn of his thoughts immediately.

“Shepard.”

“Get everyone to the escape pods!” Shepard ordered, hitting the distress beacon with as much force as he could muster. The console sparked briefly but thankfully, didn’t break. 

“Joker won’t leave the cockpit.” He shouted, hoping that Shepard heard over the blaring klaxons. He couldn’t see John’s expression with the helmet on but his blue eyes would haunt him. “I’m not leaving either.”

I’m not leaving you .

Shepard shook his head, almost as if he could hear Kaidan’s thoughts. “Kaidan-”

Gripping Shepard’s helmet, Kaidan pressed the front of his visor against it, an intimate gesture that neither were expecting. Kaidan’s heart pounded hard against his ribs, Shepard’s sudden proximity a desire he’d craved for months, but not like this.

Never like this.

Shepard closed what little distance was between them, hand on Kaidan’s neck, securing him solidly against him. The alarms screamed, fires burned only feet away, but the solid feel of John in his arms almost broke him. He’d wanted this for too long, but now, they didn’t have time. 

“Don’t make me go.”

Shepard sucked in a sharp breath and for a second, Kaidan could’ve sworn he shook. “You have to, Kaidan.” He pushed him away, not roughly but enough to put distance between them. “I’ll get Joker. The others are counting on you. Please .”

Kaidan closed his eyes, filling his lungs slowly with oxygen, trying to force his feet to move, to fulfill his orders. When he finally looked at Shepard once more, he knew he didn’t have a choice. He had a job to do and god dammit he would do it. 

I love you.

It was on his tongue and nearly slipped out, but his feelings were inconsequential as their ship burned around them, the dead staring at them with empty eyes. Talitha couldn’t be saved, but there were others that could.

Swallowing the fear that this would be the last time he saw John Shepard, Kaidan nodded. “Aye aye.”

When he turned his back on the man who had become his world in a few short months, running for the escape pods, there was a dark whisper at the back of his mind that told him it was a mistake. One he would regret for the rest of his life.

-4-

His fingers hovered over the datapad, the words not coming the way he’d intended.

It’d been a shock to see Shepard alive on Horizon, even with Anderson’s warning: There are rumors that Shepard is alive, Commander. Be ready for anything.

But the warnings, the hearsay, the hints about Shepard’s survival over Alchera had prepared him little for what he saw that day: the familiar ocean blue of John’s eyes, the all encompassing relief on the man’s face when Kaidan approached unharmed, the gentle brush of his hand against Kaidan’s shoulder before they embraced. His heart had soared with happiness to see the man he’d followed to hell and back standing in front of him, flesh and blood and very much alive . 

But the moment passed quickly, only to be replaced by more questions than answers.

How was he alive? Was it true that he was with Cerberus now? What had really happened over Alchera? And why was he here now ?

What was Cerberus’ interest in the colony abductions?

Were they involved? Was Shepard involved?

It didn’t matter what the answers were, not when they could be lies. How was he supposed to believe anything a dead man said?

While his head spun with questions, Kaidan’s gaze had taken in the changes in the man he’d once pledged his service to. Shepard’s skin was cracked in places and crimson cybernetics held his flesh together, red lines glowing bright like a beacon over his cheeks and jaw. But there was a darkness in his gaze that Kaidan had seen only a few times before and it scared him.

John Shepard wasn’t the same person who’d died over Alchera.

Now that he could look back on the interaction with fresh eyes, Kaidan admitted he was unnecessarily harsh in his reaction after. There was little he regretted in life, and the things he did regret he could count on one hand. His anger at Shepard on Horizon was one of them. If his former commander really didn’t have a choice from the beginning, then he should apologize. 

The blinking cursor mocked him. Twenty minutes since opening the messaging app and he had yet to write a single word. 

With a sigh, he ran a hand down his face. There was nothing he could say to make up for the years Shepard had lost and more than just John’s life had been destroyed over Alchera. His career, his scars, his friendships… The work he’d done as a Spectre swept under the rug by the Council and Alliance both, many now believing Shepard to be a raving lunatic. 

And this situation with Cerberus…

Another sigh slipped out.

Kaidan wished he could pour his heart out, to let Shepard know how deep the pain of losing him had been. To the crew, to him . The last images burned into his brain played on repeat in front of his mind’s eye: the Normandy’s destruction, and Shepard’s lifeless body drifting over the planet in the cold vacuum of space. No one had been willing to retrieve the man that had saved them from the Geth and Saren, of the hero who had haunted visions of things passed and things yet to come. On that day, Kaidan Alenko’s heart tore in two.

His fingers typed the message before he realized what he’d done.

The words stared back at him, his subconscious willing to destroy everything he’d built over the last two years, all for a man who was supposed to be dead.

John,

These past two years have been more than difficult for me. Seeing you on Horizon brought back old feelings I thought I’d put to rest, but it seems that forgetting you is impossible. I can’t join Cerberus, I won’t, and it has nothing to do with you. Because if I’m being honest, I was tempted to throw it all away to be with you on the Normandy again.

But the Normandy is gone. 

I’m not the same person anymore. I sense you aren’t, as well.

The love I have for you isn’t enough for me to give up on everything I believe.

Kaidan swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. Even if he wasn’t sending a personal message that both the Alliance and Cerberus officials wouldn’t be reading, he couldn’t admit his feelings in that way. They both deserved better than that, even if they’d never get it.

Each day a life with John Shepard seemed further out of reach.

Especially with Shepard in enemy hands.

He read the message once more before hitting ‘delete.’

-5-

The shuttle landed at the pad a few feet away, dust blowing up into Kaidan’s face as he waited. Lifting his hand to shield himself from the worst of the air, he watched as the door slid open, revealing Admiral David Anderson. He wore his dress blues, medals shining in the bright sunlight. Grey was starting to show in his close cropped dark hair, but he still flaunted that dazzling smile that made him appear years younger.

“Major.” Anderson greeted, reaching out to shake his offered hand. “It’s good to see you. Here to escort us to the inquest?”

“Yes, sir.” He replied, eyes involuntarily straying to where Shepard was stepping from the shuttle. He looked better than Kaidan had seen him in years. This Shepard wasn’t the ghost he’d met on Horizon anymore, half-mended flesh barely held together with cybernetics. His scars had healed, concealing the eerie glow of the implants underneath it, and he’d even put some muscle back on his once thin, almost frail frame.. If Kaidan ignored their purpose for being here in Vancouver, he could almost pretend they were back on the SR-1.

“Major, huh?” Shepard smiled, raising an eyebrow expectantly, almost as if he was waiting for Kaidan to detail the mission that got him the promotion. Like he hoped Kaidan would treat it like old times.

But it wasn’t.

“It’s recent.” He said instead, nodding as Anderson excused himself briefly. Kaidan’s hands were clenched at his sides as he tried to reign in the sudden longing in his heart. He missed those smiles more than he wanted to admit. “I, uh, would rather not talk about it right now.”

“That’s fair. It’s not like I’ve done anything recently to give you reason to trust me.” If Shepard’s words brought him any hurt at all, his voice didn’t betray it. When Kaidan glanced at him again, Shepard was watching Lieutenant James Vega as he stood at parade rest beside Anderson, trying his best not to fall asleep at the conversation the Admiral was having with the lawyers assigned to him.

Kaidan stared at him in silence, memorizing the new scars above his brow, the freckles that dusted his nose, the smooth skin on his cheeks and jaw. John’s hair had grown considerably since Horizon, nearly brushing his shoulders, dusty brown locks that looked as soft as satin.

Kaidan resisted the urge to reach and brush his fingers through it.

This man had done awful things, was on trial for many of those crimes, but stood resolute, fearless. He always had. It was one of the things that Kaidan always admired about him. Shepard was the Butcher of Torfan, but he was also human… he made mistakes like everyone else. What made him different, even special , was that he wasn’t afraid of owning up to them. 

Is that what this was? A misunderstanding? A mistake?

Somehow, Kaidan didn’t think so.

“Did you do it?” He asked, voice quiet and yet, Shepard heard him as clearly as if they were standing in an empty room. 

Shepard’s jaw tensed and he glanced away briefly, blue eyes fixed on something far away that Kaidan couldn’t see. Lieutenant Vega had noticed the movement and looked at them with curiosity. It felt like forever before John shook his head, unfocused gaze landing back on Kaidan.

His fears must’ve shown on his expression because John’s eyes darkened. “Don’t look at me like that, Kaidan. Not you, of all people.”

“I’m sorry, Shepard.” And he was sorry. This wasn’t at all how he wanted to see his former friend again. Not after Horizon. The circumstances never seemed to favor them. “But you have to know what it looks like.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The Butcher of Torfan getting more revenge against batarians?” He laughed, but there was no amusement in it. “Yeah, I get how it looks.”

“Not to mention, you were flying Cerberus colors.” 

Shepard flinched, the reminder an obvious low blow. “I was under Hackett’s orders.”

“Not officially and that’s all they care about.” Kaidan sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “What happened out there, Shepard?”

“You’ve seen the report, what do you think?” 

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Kaidan replied, opening his eyes to see the flash of pain on Shepard’s face before he hid it behind his usual stoic mask.

“It does to me.” 

The words were so quiet that Kaidan almost missed them.

“If you’re right about the Reapers, then you didn’t have a choice.” Kaidan said after a moment of silence, hating how strained his voice sounded at the admission. It’s not that he didn’t believe Shepard. He did and that was part of the problem. Because he knew exactly what happened when someone has no other option in a fight that was bigger than themselves.

“It doesn’t make it easier to bear though.”

The regret was nearly palpable in John’s words.

“No, it doesn’t.”

Silence fell between them again, heavier with a truth only a few people knew. Even if they thwarted the Reapers, even if they stopped the whole harvesting of organic civilizations, the loss would still be catastrophic. Winning wouldn’t feel like a victory at all.

“Kaidan, before I leave, there’s something I need to tell you. Just in case…” Shepard trailed off, but the meaning was obvious.

Just in case we don’t see each other again.

Kaidan’s heart broke at the look in his friend’s eyes. They’d once been close, telling each other things that they couldn’t tell anyone else, being there at each other’s six, knowing the other’s tells and expressions, but this gulf between them had only grown since Alchera, since Horizon. Kaidan didn’t want it to grow anymore. Not when the things he felt were still so real. “Shepard-”

“Commander.” Vega appeared at John’s shoulder, a hulking mass of muscle that would’ve been easy to spot any other day, but now surprised them with his sudden presence. “We have to meet with the Admirals now.”

John closed his eyes with annoyance, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke. As always, there was never time. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Sir, Admiral Anderson-”

Shepard stiffened, but before he could snap out a reply, Kaidan cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of both men beside him. With a small smile, he tried his best not to look put out by the inquest, by the politics, and he was sure he failed by the slant of John’s eyes. 

“You should probably go, Shepard.”

He caught the hurt that John tried to hide behind his tense smile. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll see you around, Kaidan.”

As Shepard turned his back on him, Kaidan couldn’t help feeling the deja vu in the worst way.

-6-

“Is that what they did to you?”

Blue eyes flashed coldly and for a moment, Kaidan had a terrible thought that maybe Shepard was a threat much like the mangled creature lying on the ground a few feet away. Was Shepard another husk waiting to be unleashed by the Illusive Man? Could Kaidan trust him? And could he trust himself to do what was necessary if Shepard was a threat?

“How could you compare me to him ?” Shepard snapped, the bite of his voice familiar and foreign all at once. Like so much in their lives now.

He glanced away and realized too late, he probably shouldn’t have. If Shepard was a Cerberus weapon, he needed to watch his back. Unfortunately, the man who usually did that was the one he needed protection from . “Shepard, I don’t know what you are… or who. Not since Cerberus.”

A slight headache appeared as his brain forced the memory away, refusing to acknowledge the fear and doubt he’d held. Because it was his distrust of Shepard that had put them both in danger. 

“Is the person I followed to hell and back- the person I…” He managed to stop before he let the word slip: love. He was in love with John Shepard, but this was not the time for a confession. “Are you still in there somewhere?”

“They didn’t change me, Kaidan. But words won’t convince you, will they?”

No, words hadn’t convinced him. But Shepard’s actions, on the other hand, had spoken volumes. They always had, back when they were a lot younger and a lot less jaded about the future, when they were merely friends who hadn’t yet grieved for thousands of soldiers who’d died with a single choice. 

But they were both different now. Changed in drastic ways as the Reaper war dragged on. Because that was how war went, wasn’t it? It tore at every shred of your heart and your sanity until you’re left with nothing but the memories of people you once loved. Memories of who yourself had been at one time or another.

It took longer than he expected to open his eyes. Brain damage, skull fracture, some other things that seemed horrifying and probably should’ve killed him. Instead, he was lying in a hospital bed on the Citadel, receiving the best care that was possible in the middle of a galactic war, all because his closest ally was a Spectre. 

The overhead lights normally would’ve blinded him upon opening his eyes, but he was surprised to find them shut off, nothing by the artificial daylight of the Presidium streaming in through large open windows. Kaidan blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from his vision. A few minutes passed with nothing but the sound of his heart in his ears as his headache began to slowly subside. A C-Sec shuttle flew past the window, descending to the closest shuttle pad. Different species of birds flew through the air before settling on the branches of a small tree. A well dressed couple was walking the Presidium hand in hand, admiring the flowers that had been recently tended.

The Citadel was almost serene in its unrushed pace. He felt like an interloper in the peace, a soldier that lived and breathed war. He shouldn’t be here, he should be on the front lines. Or, if the morose part of his mind was right, even dead by this point. But he wasn’t . And he knew why.

John Shepard.

Shepard always put himself in harm’s way to make sure his people came home, and when they didn’t, he took it personally, even if it wasn’t his fault. Because most of the time, it wasn’t. 

Kaidan glanced to his right where he knew he’d find the man in question, sitting bedside on a clearly uncomfortable chair, hunched over the hospital bed with his head resting on folded arms. He was sleeping, breathing deeply with the quietest of noises leaving his mouth. With his gaze mapping Shepard’s face, Kaidan noted the dark circles under his eyes, the weariness that seemed to haunt his pale skin even when sleeping. Some of his skin was showing wear, the cybernetics glowing crimson between small cracks in his cheeks.

Whatever had happened since the incident on Mars was wearing on Shepard’s health and Kaidan felt a pang of regret. Some of it was his fault, the words he’d spoken to Shepard on Mars were harsh and for that, Kaidan should apologize. If he couldn’t rely on the people he loved and trusted, he couldn’t rely on anyone.

Before he could stop himself, Kaidan reached out, running his fingers through those thick brunette locks like he’d been craving for years. Soft to the touch, it slid through his fingers with little resistance, landing on the white sheets with nary a sound. He twirled a stray lock of hair around his index finger, smiling when Shepard stirred at the touch.

Opening his eyes, Shepard blinked as if he was unsure of where he was. Once he got his bearings, he lifted his head and glanced around, stretching to ward off the embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable position. 

“Hey, Shepard.” Kaidan said, unable to keep from smirking, noting the flushed cheeks and nervous movement of Shepard’s hand over his face.

“Kaidan. It’s, uh, good to see you awake. How are you feeling?” His eyes dropped to where the blanket had slid down, exposing Kaidan’s chest. 

He might’ve felt embarrassed if he didn’t enjoy the look in Shepard’s blue gaze, eyes roaming the expanse of skin and curly chest hair appreciatively. “Better. You didn’t have to wait here for me to wake up. I would’ve sent you a message.”

“Are you sure that’s true?” He glanced up, a worried frown pulling at his mouth. “You weren’t happy with me on Mars.”

Kaidan looked away this time, his hands seeming more interesting than the man beside him. “I was… wrong about you. I’m sorry.”

“Kaidan-”

“I need to get this out, John. Please .” When Shepard fell silent, Kaidan took a deep breath, closing his eyes and releasing it through his nose. It was comforting to feel Shepard next to him, to know that he’d watched over him whenever he was on the Citadel, for however long Kaidan had been sedated. “We were both wrong about a lot over the years, but… this is all on me. I didn’t trust you when I should have.”

“I haven’t made myself very trustworthy.”

Kaidan snapped his eyes open, a glare directed at the man he couldn’t deny any longer. With everything he’d been through: the Alliance using his dark past to their advantage, the Council using him as a tool to further their power, the prothean beacon’s visions nearly tearing him apart, the threat of the Reapers and Geth… and then to top it all off, his death and Cerberus resurrection. The months of being forced to work with his enemies while his allies said terrible things about him, Kaidan included. Bahak and finally being proven right about the Reapers while everything the galaxy had built was being destroyed.

Kaidan didn’t know how Shepard was holding himself together.

“That’s ridiculous.”

The smallest grin appeared on Shepard’s face. “Hey-”

Kaidan wanted to reach out and shake some sense into Shepard, but he was partially to blame for that. He made Shepard doubt himself and he never wanted to see that again.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Shepard, and you’re being too hard on yourself. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you after Horizon. Or Bahak. Or the millions of other times I should’ve been.” He paused, tongue going numb as he pushed his final thought into words. “You’ve always been strong for everyone else. Let me be strong for you.”

His smile widened. “From a hospital bed?”

Kaidan nudged Shepard's shoulder with his hand. “Ok, jackass, very funny.”

Shepard caught his hand before he could pull away, gently holding it against his chest, eyes sparkling with laughter. Kaidan missed seeing him so lighthearted, so at peace. If he could bring a little hope in the face of so much darkness, he’d accept that responsibility wholeheartedly. Entwining their fingers together, Kaidan gave a little squeeze.

“I’m here, John. I wasn’t before and I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But-” He held up his free hand when it looked like Shepard would interrupt. He relaxed, watching Kaidan with wonder. “I’m not going anywhere. If you’ll have me, of course.”

Shepard was quiet, holding Kaidan’s hand as if letting go would be the end of the galaxy. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Kaidan smirked, leaning closer and brushing his free hand through John’s hair before hooking a finger beneath his chin. Tilting his face so their eyes met, Kaidan let his hand drop to the bed. “What do you want? You’ve given everything for the Alliance, for this war. What is the one thing that Commander John Shepard wants?”

There was no hesitation in his next words. “ You .”

John moved faster than Kaidan expected, pulling him closer so their lips met sooner, their desire crashing like waves, relentless. Years and even death hadn’t quelled his feelings for the man in front of him, and it seemed the same could be said of Shepard.

“I love you.” Kaidan whispered against his mouth, enjoying the feel of John pressed against him. The muscles in his neck twinged slightly, but he ignored it in favor of kissing Shepard again, letting every feeling of love and hope and adoration he felt echo in his touches.

There was still a war to fight, and Kaidan likely had to wait to be officially discharged, but for now, they had each other and he wasn’t going to let what they had go without a fight. He’d wasted enough time. 

John broke the kiss, gasping slightly for air, and Kaidan laughed, the sound breathless and happy for the first time in so long. He sent Kaidan a bemused look, but chuckled quietly. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ll have you know…” Kaidan trailed off, his head so full of the reality that he’d just kissed Shepard that this fight didn’t seem to matter as much as it might’ve once upon a time. With his fingers tangled in Shepard’s hair, he brushed his lips against his jaw. “Actually, that’s fair. Considering how long it took to get here -”

“I love you.” Shepard interrupted, trailing a finger along his cheek, cupping Kaidan’s face in his hand a moment later. “I have for a long time, Kaidan. If I’d known-”

Kaidan leaned forward, their foreheads touching in the silence that followed. Regret. It was something both of them had, about so many things, but he wasn’t going to regret this . Because even if one of them had confessed at any time in their past, it wouldn’t have been right.

This was the moment they’d waited for.

“As much as I want to say it would, I can’t pretend that it would’ve made a difference. Changing anything about our past could’ve changed the future and not for the good. I love you, John Shepard, and I’m going to fight for us. No matter what happens.”

John nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing that could be said. They might not have everything, but they had each other.

It was enough.

[kalevalakryze]

Blood On The Ice

Chapter One: Muun Nynir

Characters: Sabine Wren, Shin Hati, Ahsoka Tano, Ezra Bridger, Tristan Wren, CT-7567 | Rex, CC-5576-39 | Gregor, CT-6116 | Kix,Bo-Katan Kryze, Koska Reeves, Axe Woves, Paz Vizsla, Trilla Suduri | Second Sister, Reva Sevander | Third Sister, Grand Inquisitor (Star Wars), Baylan Skoll, Hera Syndulla, Morgan Elsbeth, Fifth Brother (Star Wars) Relationships: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren, Alrich Wren/Ursa Wren, Ezra Bridger/Tristan Wren, C1-10P | Chopper/Marrok, Hera Syndulla/Ahsoka Tano, The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV)/Bo-Katan Kryze, Reva Sevander | Third Sister/Trilla Suduri | Second Sister, Shin Hati & Baylan Skoll, Ezra Bridger & Ahsoka Tano & Sabine Wren, Alrich Wren & Sabine Wren & Tristan Wren & Ursa Wren Tags: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Injury, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Build, Hockey Fights, Hockey Injuries AO3 Link: Here! Word Count: 3,125

Notes: It's finally here! I've been working on this one chapter for the last two months! Gosh, so happy to get here right now! So some things to note, this series will take place across 3 acts, with a currently undefined chapter count on all, with obviously as seen in the series, some loose snippets floating around. This world was built by @thegirlsinthecity and myself, and while neither of us know everything about hockey, I think it's more about the fun we had putting this together over exact accuracy. (And yes, there are plans to return and update tags soon) So just some basic team lineups so it isn't all lost (And yes, more will be added slowly as I expand on the lines) Lothal Spectres: Sabine Wren, #5, Right Wing, Two-Way Forward Ahsoka Tano, #32, Center, Playmaker Ezra Bridger, #6, Left Wing, Grinder Tristan Wren, #60, Right Defense, Offensive Rex Fett, #51, Left Defense, Enforcer Gregor Fett, #39, Goalie, Hybrid Kix Fett, Team Medic Axe Woves, #17, Right Wing, Sniper Koska Reeves, #29, Left Wing, Playmaker Bo-Katan Kryze, #42, Center, Grinder Chopper: #00 Mascot Hera Syndulla, Coach/Owner Mercenaries: Shin Hati, #64, Left Wing, Enforcer Baylan Skoll, #87, Center, Playmaker Reva Sevander, #66, Right Wing, Two-Way Fifth Brother, #23, Right Defense, Offensive Trilla Suduri, #74, Left Defense, Enforcer Grant Inquisitor, #85, Goalie, Standup Cad Bane, #32, Center, Grinder Boba Fett, #1, Right Defense, Two-way Fennec Shand, #9, Left Defense, Enforcer Aurra Sing, #48, Right Wing, Playmaker Bossk, #54, Left Wing, Sniper Marrok, #26, Mascot Morgan Elsbeth, Owner

“You ready to get back out there, Sabine?” Ahsoka called from the other side of the locker room, securing her lekku in the padding so they wouldn’t risk injury or swing about and hurt someone. 

Sabine looked up from the yellow and blue jersey in her hands, the Firebird emblazoned on the chest, and the number five stamped across the back and shoulders. 

“You’ll figure it out, verd’ika,” Bo-Katan’s hand was heavy on her shoulder, warmth seeping through the thick shoulder pads as the older Mandalorian dropped to her side. “Shoot straight, don’t get hit. Rules haven’t changed on your way up to the big leagues.”

“But you need to be mindful of everyone on the ice,” Ahsoka cut the redhead off with a shake of her head as she settled on Sabine’s other side. “The Mercenaries are… better equipped than us. They’ve also had more time to train their rookie,” 

“Run that one by me again?” The younger woman shrugged off Bo’s hand to tug the jersey over her head, brushing her fingers through her hair to fix it once the material was settled over all the padding. 

“Shin Hati, some kind of college star, Merc’s Captain, Baylan Skoll, has been training her since she was a kid, I guess.” Sabine scoffed at the mention. Some kid whose connections got them the job, typical. 

“Don’t underestimate your opponent, Sabine.” Ahsoka reprimanded gently as she started to lace up her skates. “Hati made a name for themselves in the pre-season, a dangerous one at that. You’ll need to keep your head out there.” 

“Ahsoka, if anyone can keep their head out there, it’s Sabine,” Bo stood to her defense immediately, bringing a small smile to the younger Mandalorian’s lips. “You just gotta trust her, and also, hurry up. Clock’s ticking-” The redhead motioned to the loudspeaker announcing their time left before they needed to make their first appearance on the ice. 

Grabbing her helmet, Bo offered Sabine one last look of mild sympathy. “You’ll be alright, ad’ika. Your aliit is with you,” 

Trilla and Reva were laughing. The first game of the full season, and they were sitting there laughing. Shin was trying their best not to give them a moment of their time as she adjusted the light away uniform on her body, making sure the padding was covered and everything fell perfectly. 

Stepping out into the hallway, Shin was greeted by Baylan exiting the men’s locker room as well. Their head dipped in a silent greeting as he fixed the chin straps of his helmet. “The Spectres have had a roster change since we last faced them,” He informed them as a  greeting as they made their way down the hall towards the tunnels where the pounding feet and heavy bass made it hard to hear him properly. 

Taking the sticks as they were handed out by Morgan who was working her way down the line of their emerging teammates, Baylan rested his hands on the top. “Their newest addition, Sabine Wren; has countless connections to many on the team, including her little brothers, Tristan Wren, and Ezra Bridger. Keep an eye on her, but be mindful of the positions on the ice.”

“Of course,” Shin nodded, silvery eyes glancing through the doors to catch the shining lights all over the yellow and blue arena. Lothal. If they never had to come back, it would be too soon. 

There was no meeting or chant, nothing said between the players as the clock ticked by; not like the teams Shin had played for in college, which she was grateful for, really, the team bonding thing just wasn’t their vibe, and this team respected that quality in them all, but there may have been some part of them that itched at the lack of any acknowledgment from Morgan, who’s career counted on their wins. 

The speakers thundered in their ears as the doors were pulled open to the ice. “Everybody welcome to the ice, your Lothal Spectres!” It was an older man on the intercom, someone who sounded as if he genuinely loved his job, like everyone at this blasted arena. The cheering grew tenfold as skates hit the ice. From behind Baylan, Shin could see the flashes of blue and yellow on the rink as the players took a lap. 

“And your opponents for tonight, the Seatos Mercenaries!” Balanced on his blades, Baylan led their line down the tunnel. There wasn’t a big fanbase willing to travel across the galaxy to watch them. Still, they had a handful of devoted regulars reaching their hands into the tunnels, as well as some children and Spectres fans who didn’t seem to care, as long as somebody acknowledged them.

Shin paid none of them any mind, ducking out of the way of reaching hands, even as Baylan offered a tap of his glove into each one. The crushing feeling of anxiety melted the minute her skates touched the ice and she was allowed to break away. The music and screaming were still deafening, but now they had their favorite distraction in the form of muscles burning and the cool air in her face 

“Well kid, there they are.” Bo-Katan called as she zipped past, sinking a puck into the empty net while Gregor caught up on his stretches to the side. “They’ve been calling ‘em Wolves, Kurs’kadedse.”  Sparing a look to the opposing side of the ice, Sabine caught a pair of silver eyes locked onto her, eyes that continued to stare even as the Mandalorians caught them.

“That’s the one we were warning you about, Hati.” 

“What the krif is she looking at?” Sabine huffed as she passed a puck between her skates before sending it flying towards the net, hitting the post before bouncing right into the netting. 

Bo-Katan’s gaze drifted back to the ever-present stare on the other side of the ice. “I don’t know, but girl; please blink.” The redhead shook her head and turned her attention to the filling stands around them. “Seriously, I don’t think she’s blinked this entire time; could be something to use to our advantage.” The older Mandalorian clapped Sabine on the shoulder before taking off to the glass by their box to flick pucks over for the group of kids gathered on the other side. 

Sabine dared one last glance back towards the Mercenaries side before shaking her head, she could deal with a little staring for be’gotal’ad sake, you didn’t look like she did and did not get used to all kinds of stares, this creepy… animalistic stare was nothing… Everything was fine….

Through the entire anthem, Sabine could feel the icy stare, determinedly, the Mandalorian focused on the ice, etching a groove with her skates as the anthem pulled to a close. 

“So, she’s got some kind of staring problem,” Tristan was quick to announce, making Ezra laugh and nod his head.

“Yeah seriously, ‘bine, you’d think you personally went over there and insulted her mother, she didn’t look away from you once.” Ezra crossed his arms over his chest, the tip of his colorfully taped stick pressing under his chin and against the strap. “Be careful… Something feels off about them.”

“Seriously guys, I’ll be fine, it’s only the first game. I seriously doubt anyone will be out for blood,” Sabine shook off their worry with a dismissive wave of her hand as she glided to start. 

Sabine didn’t have a chance to give the wolf on the ice much more of a single thought once they returned; The eyes on her were in the back of her mind the second the puck had dropped at center ice. Besides, she had plenty enough eyes on her the second she’d taken control of the puck and sank it right past the Inquisitor’s glove, sailing past his shoulder and smacking into the goalpost before finding a home in the white netting as the horns blared not even thirty seconds into the game.

Tristan was the first one on her, arms tight around his older sister as the rest of the team crowded her against the boards in celebration. The crowd was screaming, though it was dulled by the beating of her heart in her ears. “I knew you could do it!” Ezra shouted in her ear as Ahsoka’s hand pressed against the top of her helmet. Even Rex offered the Mandalorian a proud punch to the shoulder before finally allowing her some room. 

The eyes on her from the other bench were deadly and predatory, as Sabine glided past, she watched a short woman leaning over the wall to talk to psycho-eyes. It was… disconcerting, but really, not her problem. As Sabine rolled into her first shift, Hera’s hand clamped down on her shoulder proudly. “That was a good run, we’re gonna send you on the next shift, watch for Bo-Katan’s signal.” 

“Got it!” Sabine called over the roar of fans in the stadium, offering a smirk towards the camera when she glanced to the screens to see her name flashing on the humongotron, progressing to full laughter at the increase in noise from the crowd, before the cameras flipped back to the game. 

“They love you, ‘bine!” Ezra called as he hopped the board, letting his shoulder bump into hers as he grabbed a bottle of water, nearly missing entirely when he squeezed the thin plastic to squirt it into his mouth.

 Rex jumped over the boards then, smacking his gloved hand into Ezra’s hand for good measure. Sabine couldn’t hear his comment, but Ezra flipped him off anyway as the old timer went into the frey, catching Suduri in a hit that sent the behemoth of an enforcer to the ground. 

There was a flash of the mirrored tint from Bo-Katan’s helmet as she turned her head towards the bench. There was no other signal to be sent her way, but as Wedge glided to the bench, she knew it was her time to jump back in. 

Almost immediately, the Wolf was back on the ice, shifting as Sabine was crossing the neutral zone. Their head lowered, shoulders tilting forward as they streaked down middle ice. Sabine caught the puck as it was shot to her, clear for the moment in the breakaway. The puck smacked off the hook of her stick, pulling it in close to her body as she stuck to the wall. The wolf was gaining ground on her, fast.

Golden eyes flashed across the ice. Ezra was almost clear… If he could just catch her gaze; Blue met gold, the puck soared across the ice, missing gloves and sicks as it went. It hit the edge of his skate as he broke away from the towering defense. Sabine didn’t get to see what he did with the puck, catching a heavily padded shoulder square in the chest that sent her down to the ice. 

“Learn to take a hit,” Her attacker growled from above as the play was called dead. One of the linesmen pulled to the wolf as Tristan rushed over to help her up. As the penalty animation played on screen and zoomed in on the wolf for roughing, Sabine could swear she saw a flash of teeth as the Keldorian ref pulled her to the box. 

“Gotal’ad, verd’ika!” Bo-Katan exclaimed as she pulled to Sabine’s other side, gloved hand pressing into her back and fixing the bright jersey. “What did you do to them?”

“Literally nothing!” The purple haired woman groaned dramatically, shaking out muscles they knew would be overly sore the next day. “She’s fucking insane!.”

“It was a valid hit though, little Wren,” Rex called as he pulled into the circle, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly as the Mercenaries penalty killers lined up. 

“Shut up, old man,” Sabine grumbled as she settled in. 

The ref dropped the puck, backing out of the two spitfires that were Bo-Katan Kryze and third-line center, Moff Gideon. Shoulders smashed together, skates scratched into ice, and sticks smacked into each other, until at last, Bo managed to kick the puck free, passing it to Ezra, who swung it across to Koska, then Axe. As the Spectre’s raced down the ice to take advantage of the five-on-four, the Mercenaries fought like hell to stop the assault. 

Sabine was streaking up the middle with Reva on her tail, pushing her closer and closer to the boards. Reva was bigger, but Sabine was faster, pushing the puck between her skates every time a black and red taped stick reached across to poke the puck from her unrelenting control. Rex pulled in next, pushing his way between the offensive right defense and the two-way forward.

Getting Reva off her back was everything Sabine needed as she pulled into the Goalie’s space, Axe swinging around the left side goalpost to screen the Inquisitor, taking that half a second of attention away from her as she kicked the puck from where it sat between her feet. The windup was fast, sending the puck flying from the toe of her stick. 

The Inquisitor dropped into a butterfly, but it was too late, the puck sailed past the closing edges of his pads and sank into the net, the loud goal horn echoing through the arena, quickly drowned out by the explosion of cheers from the crowd as Sabine’s arms went up into the air. “Yes! That’s how you get it done!” She shouted, her voice unheard with all the noise. 

Gleaming golden eyes turned to the crowd as Bo-Katan slammed into her, arms wrapping around her as Axe, Koska, Tristan, and Paz all joined in, almost slamming their huddle into the boards in their celebration. The only thing that altered the high of her joy was the heavy weight of predatory eyes, their weight intensifying as the Mercenaries winger was released from the penalty box. 

Eleven minutes left in the period, Spectres up by two, the crowd was electric, and Sabine’s heart was thumping comfortably in her chest, each time she glanced back at Hera, the beaming smile only made her light up more. As they pulled back to center ice, Sabine spared one last glance at the crowd, lips twisting when she caught sight of Ursa’s familiar yellow and grey coat in the stadium’s loudville level, phone raised, no doubt zoomed in to catch her kids on the ice. 

“Tristan!” She called as he came into his position at her right. “Buir is taking a picture, stop looking dumb,” This earned a barking laugh from him as Ezra and Koska switched out. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t hog all the limelight, ‘bine!” 

A growl from the opposing side had Sabine looking away from her brother. “You got a problem, kurs’kaded?” Sabine shot to the enforcer that sat on the other side of the blue line. The blonde only sneered and settled in, shoulders hunched forward and silver eyes breaking away from Sabine for probably the first time all day. “That’s what I thought,”

The next break came with a renowned intensity. Whatever the small coach on the Mercenaries lines said must have been particularly seething, with each forward all but bowling the spectre line over the moment the puck dropped. 

The puck was passed between wolf, to Sudari, Sevander, Skoll, then wolf again. Hera signalled for Sabine to shift, though it went ignored as the young Mandalorian managed to get her stick out, shoving the puck out of the wolf’s grasp. She slid carefully, hearing their skates scrape and grind as she spun around to take control. 

The race back to the Mercenaries goal was intense, a five on one break away that had Sabine already tensing up to get hit the further she pushed it, legs exhausting as she worked; Bo-Katan had already shifted, and Koska had switched with Rex this time. 

“Wren is breaking away! All alone crossing into Mercenary ice!”

“Here comes Hati, closing in fast-”

“Ohhh that one has got to hurt!”

The wolf’s shoulder smacked into her, their stick tangling in her skates in an illegal hook that sent her to the ground. Sabine hit the ice hard, sliding into the boards as they released their hold. The shrill whistle was sharp and skull splitting, but still, Sabine managed to get up, catching the venomous heaviness in dark eyes that tracked her recovery. The wolf turned away from her, igniting a spark of anger in her stomach. 

“Seems like Wren isn’t going to let that hit stand!”

The cheers that followed Sabine throwing her gloves and stick to the ground were loud and thunderous, but no more than her own heart as the almost bored look in Hati’s gaze turned into one of excitement. The scouts had noted that the wolf played with her food, and right now, Sabine was a four course meal. 

Her knuckles connected with their jaw almost as soon as her glove bounced off the ice. Heavy hands shoved into her to keep her back, though she could tell already that the bony knuckle of her middle finger had managed to split skin, red bubbling up onto a pale canvas quickly.

There wasn’t much time to focus on the renowned look in their eyes when a gloved hand launched into her face, smacking her head back off the glass hard enough to bring black spots to her eyes, though the second hit, ungloved, and right into the sliver of space between the pads right into her kidneys was the one that sent her to the ground, knees hitting the ice hard enough to make her bones ache. 

The crowd was screaming and cheering at the fight, smaller fights broke out on the ice around them, and Sabine could just barely see Skoll, shouting past the line of refs and yellow and white jerseys as he tried to call them off of her as Ahsoka and Kix struggled to rush through the traffic. Fans were throwing things onto the ice, and a cold hand bashed into her face at least two more times, the skin of her lip splitting under torn knuckles,  even as hot blood raced down the back of her head, staining her own jersey an almost orange color as the ichor bled into the bright yellows. 

Sabine’s vision swam, fists swinging weakly out, hands grasping at the white of their jersey, staining it with her own blood, trying to keep them from swinging any more. By the time Baylan managed to drag them off of her, Sabine’s vision was just a pinprick, barely managing to catch the look on Ahsoka’s face as she and Hera raced to try and catch her, darkness enveloping them in the hazy warmth of blood loss and the deafening sound of fans screaming. 

Translations: Muun Nynir - Hard Hit verd'ika - little warrior ad'ika - little one aliit - family Kurs’kadedse - wolves for be’gotal’ad sake - for the sake of the maker Gotal’ad, verd’ika - Maker, little warrior