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#love me some child soldiers sticking together
its-minart · 1 year
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They’re just very important to me :(( <3
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asterias-record-shop · 11 months
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—𓆩[something worse]𓆪—
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Tobias Eaton (Four) x Fem! Dauntless Born! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Four had been together since he chose Dauntless, especially because you were one of the Dauntless born pulled into training. You both had never put a label on your relationship because it never seemed right, but everyone knew that you both were a couple, except the newest tributes you both were training, no matter how obvious you both made it. It seems you both have to make it a little more obvious.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - so sorry I was writing this during a final and it might suck I’m sorry 😭 || cursing || unprotected sex || creampie || oral || fingering
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You were used to wandering eyes, you really were, your partner was literally the hottest man in Dauntless. It didn’t really matter about wandering eyes though when they knew you both were together, label or not, but it seemed to be difficult to get through the mind of one of the new initiates.
You weren’t born Abnegation like either of them, you were a bitch and you made sure everyone knew it. You were a lovable bitch though, that’s why you were being fucked every night by the hottest man in all of the factions.
It passed through your mind to just show her, get Four to tell her something is going on in a certain area just to pull him there to fuck you. You passed it through Tori just to make sure, and she said no though, so you decided not to go through with it.
Maybe that’s why you were watching Four fix Tris’ position because she wouldn’t stick with it when Eric did it. It made your skin crawl, staring at the two of them. Maybe it did feel right that he was with someone from his home faction, didn’t he like selfless people? You were selfless in your own way, right? He knew that.
“Hey, you okay?” Uriah asks you, a smile quickly making its way to your face.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, thank you. I’m going to go see how some of the kids are doing, you mind telling Four?” You start collecting your stuff, inhaling deeply as Uriah follows you.
“He’s coming over here.”
You shoot up as Four stands in front of you, his brow raised. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to go do my time at the school,” you say, smiling slightly. “I just… haven’t seen King in a while.”
Four sighs. “Well… I can go with you in a minute, okay? King likes me, right?”
You laugh, slowly lifting your arms to wrap your arms around his neck before pausing. Public displays of affection were never really your thing, but you really wanted to.
Four saw you pause, leaning down to wrap his arms around your waist as you smiled and wrapped yours around his neck. “Everyone likes you, Four,” you teased, giggling. “But I love you.”
He smiles back, leaning down for a soft kiss as you tugged on his hair. “I love you too.”
You pulled his hands closer to your form, pulling his face into your neck as you looked over his shoulder just enough to wink at Tris before pulling away. “Let’s go see King.”
He nods, letting you lead him out of the training area and to the school. Dauntless didn’t teach like Erudite did, but they made sure that the children of the faction learned things needed to survive in the faction. King was a child of two Dauntless soldiers who had died exploring beyond the wall, and as a result, you both took him in sort of like your own.
Seeing you with a child really made Four want to give you a child, especially with how good you were with kids, but it never really seemed to be the right time.
That was until he saw you twirling another boy in your eyes, King cleaning one of Four’s guns while the older man oiled up one of the other ones. The younger boy was named Chris, someone whose parents got caught up in a mission and you both took him home just for a while.
“She looks good with a baby, right?” King asks, smiling. “Y/N was always good with kids. She was good with me,” he mumbles now, smiling. “I’m doing well in my training. She said that.”
“You are,” Four said with a smile. “You’re doing really well. Ranked third, kid, you’re doing good,” he leaned forward and ruffled his hair with a laugh. “Want you to get that first spot, though.”
King grins. “I will.”
Someone knocks making you fix Chris on your hip, quickly walking toward the door as Four stands. “Stay there,” he orders to King as you open the door, raising a brow when you see Tris. “Who is it?”
“Uhm… can I help you?”
She inhaled. “I just… I’m here to see Four.”
“Four, honey!” You yell out, the tall man coming behind you and settling a hand on your hip. “One of the trainees wants to speak with you.”
Four raised a brow. “Everything alright?”
Oh, the Abnegation was coming out.
“Y-Yeah, everything’s fine-”
“Perfect,” Four smiles, taking Chris from your arms and setting him on the ground. “King, come here!”
The older boy quickly walks over, standing just like Four. “Yeah?”
“Why don’t you take Chris down to eat? Tris will join you both,” Four says making King’s nose scrunch. “What?”
“Don’t forget I sleep here too.” King takes Chris’ hand, looking back just a bit. “Don’t forget I have a bed! That’s my bed!”
“Bye, King!” You laughed as Four grinned, closing the door as his other hand held your waist.
You couldn’t stop smiling, giggling as you stared up at him. “You did that, didn’t you?”
His smile grows, just a bit. “Yeah, I did. Uriah kind of… hinted it to me.”
You hummed. “Good, because I would've done something worse,” you said, slowly stepping back and pushing your hands into his tight black shirt. “I was this close.”
“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?” He asked, smiling as the back of your knees bumps against the bed. His rough hands slip under your shirt, rubbing against your back as though he could feel the black ink you had gotten tattooed.
“Was gonna make her catch us fucking in the corridor,” you giggled as Four slipped off your shirt, humming as he leaned down. “Who said we always have to fuck on the bed? You like that idea?”
He nodded into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses to your skin as you started to lean back, his hands securely catching you before you could fall back fully. Carefully, he sets you down, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck down your chest. “I fucking love that idea,” he mumbled, his hand slowly rubbing circles against your thigh. “You want to go do that now?”
It was a tempting offer, but you shake your head. “No,” you say, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “You already got me here. Why move?”
He smiled even wider, leaning down as his hands moved to your hips to slowly tug at the tactile pants you wore. “I was thinking,” he whispers as you pull him down to press kisses to his neck. You could see the black peeking out from his shirt, pulling it off of him easily as he pulled away just to slip it off before pulling off your own. “You looked good with Chris on your hip.”
You paused, looking up at him. “You think so?”
He nodded, his hands tugging at your sports bra as your hands dragged down his back. He kneels over your body, pressing kisses down your neck to your chest. “I know so. You’re a natural with kids, angel, you’re fucking perfect.”
The slight husk in his voice made a shiver run up your back, your stomach twisting and heat flooding into your underwear as he lets his hot mouth suck at your lower stomach. “D-Does that mean something?”
He smiled, looking up at you. “Did I just get a Dauntless-born to stutter?”
You blushed madly, looking away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Four.”
He laughs, pressing a kiss to your pelvic bone before he slowly starts to pull your underwear off, his fingers dancing along your thighs as you squirmed, gasping as he pressed a firm kiss to your clit. It makes you squirm, his fingers replacing his lips as he kisses lower and lower.
“F-Fuck,” you whimper as the tip of his fingers slowly prod against your cunt, his mouth sucking and licking around his fingers as your hands push into his hair. “F-Four, you’re being too nice.”
He laughs, pulling away just for a minute as he slowly pushes a thick finger into you, watching as your hips buck into the air and your back arches. “Maybe it’s the Abnegation?”
You shook your head, reaching a hand down to push his fingers deeper into your pussy. It makes you whine, a gasp coming from your lips as he pulls them out just for a second to add another finger. “Abnegation is selfless, my darling, maybe it’s the Amity? J-Just, don’t stop.”
He laughs, popping a kiss to your cunt before pushing his fingers deeper into you, watching as you squirmed. Moans fall from your lips as he pressed firm circles against your clit, the sensitive bud making you whine loudly, hips bucking.
His fingers curl inside of you, pushing his tongue into you with his fingers as you tug on his hair and your other hand finds his cheek.
You felt your stomach twisting, hips bucking uncontrollably as you attempted to ride his fingers. You gasped as his fingers curled inside of you, attempting to find that one soft spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. It didn’t take him long to find, especially because he’s memorized your body over the years and he groaned as you clenched around him.
“Come on honey, cum for me. Want to watch you cum.”
Your eyes rolled back, whimpering as he pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you to watch your pussy flutter. Your stomach twists, loud groaning falling from your lips as your stomach twists. Your hips buck, eyes rolling back as he sucked on your cunt, swallowing loudly as he pulled out his fingers.
He pulled away, sitting up as he pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his cock, hissing as you raised your legs to wrap around his waist. He grunts as he slowly pushes into you, eyes rolling back as he leaned down to hold himself up with his elbows, pulling you in for a kiss. “Fucking hell, I want to see you with my kids so bad,” he groaned, gasping as you pulled him down for a kiss. “Want to see you pregnant over and over again.”
You whined, his hips moving quickly as the bed pounded into the wall, your nails dragging down his back. His cock rammed into your pussy, strong thrusts making your eyes roll back as he pressed his lips to your neck. “You want that honey? Want to be fucked, round and full with my kids?”
You nodded, whining loudly. “Yes! Yes, I do!”
He grunts loudly, slamming into you just to feel your pussy clench along his entire shaft, a broken moan leaving his lips as you cum again around him. “Fuck.”
“Fuck, fuck! Four!” You yelled out as he reaches down to rub firm circles into your clit, rutting his hips just a few more times as he came inside you for the first time without protection.
It was an odd feeling, but filling as he groaned loudly, your cunt continued to clench around him to milk him of everything he had. It was warm, and if you could feel sticky-ness inside of you, it would be this. You whimper as he starts to pull out, trying to reach forward to pull him back in before he grabs your legs, pushing them back so your knees were on your shoulders.
“You don’t think we’re done yet, do you? Gotta make sure this sticks.”
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© asterias-record-shop
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deepouterspacecandy · 2 months
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My Full Metal Jacket
This one is much heavier on the angst and gore, but there is fluff sprinkled in, too. Graphic depictions of violence and death. Sexual themes. All my works are 18+ only.
If you want more of this world, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll have another one coming down the line in the not-so-distant future, I’m sure. Thanks for showing my writing some love. I appreciate it more than you know.
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“You again?”
“Get over yourself, Popeye,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the truck. “You should be kissing my beautiful feet after I hauled over all the heavy guns.”
“Nuh uh,” Abby says, flexing her arms obnoxiously. “Not all of them.”
Manny plugs his ears like an unruly child, filling the air with a loud, rhythmic noise to drown you both out.
“Isaac must hate my guts,” he groans. “Sticking me with you two.”
“Three whole weeks, baby,” Abby says, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder as he passes by. “You know you love it.”
“Yeah, yeah. What’s not to love?” he says.
With a warm smile, he offers his four-legged battle buddy a few affectionate scrubs behind the ears, his voice projecting so that everyone can overhear their private conversation.
 “We’ll leave all that sexual tension in the back of the truck where it belongs, won’t we, boy? Those crazy women.”
He motions for the dog to seek refuge inside the cab, granting him the privilege of riding shotgun.
“Manny, come on, it’s raining!” you complain.
He glares up at you as you hang lazily over the side of the truck. You jut your lower lip out at him, clarifying that you always fully intended to sit in the back, but you cannot pass up the chance to properly antagonize him first.  
“Yeah, Manny. It’s raining,” Abby whines, joining you in solidarity by throwing her arm over your shoulder and adopting the most outrageously exaggerated pouty bottom lip he has ever seen. “It’s so wet out there!”
“Out there is not the problem,” he laughs. His hand darts through the air to flick at her lip, but she effortlessly dances out of his reach. “Animals, both of you.”
You gasp, slapping your chest in shock and scandal.
“I’ll have you know—I’m perfectly civilized,” you say, loading your firearm and cocking it with dramatic force.
Abby’s face lights up, admiring the only other woman in the FOB who possesses the same level of toughness and brutality as her.
“Goddamn,” Abby says. “My ride or die, right here.”
“All day, all night,” you giggle.
“Treacherous twins,” Manny says, rolling his eyes at you before ducking into the driver’s seat. “Keep fooling yourselves, guys. When the levy finally breaks, I will be there with a camera.”
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This isn’t your first rodeo together and if all goes well, it won’t be your last.
The assignment is a recovery mission, focused on retrieving a unit of six soldiers who vanished while operating in enemy territory.
It comes as no surprise that Isaac chose the three of you to lead the mission.
Manny, being a gifted sharpshooter with breakneck combat instincts, makes your squad his most unyielding mercenaries for the job. He is also keenly aware of the unbreakable bond between you, which raises the probability of everyone returning home with the missing unit in tow.
“Don’t hog all the fruit,” Manny says, wiggling his fingers at Abby and motioning for her to pass him the container.
Between you, a campfire hisses against the rain, casting much needed warmth onto your tired bones.
“These are some mighty fine grapes,” Abby warns, lifting the container up and away. “You might have to fight me for them.”
“Ooh, can I have some?” you ask.
Without hesitation, Abby shuffles closer to you, carefully balancing the container on your knee as she continues to eat from it.
Manny shakes his head in mock disgust, ripping into a strip of jerky and offering a piece to the dog.  
You bite into a succulent grape with a loud crunch and let out an ungodly moan.
“These are good.”
The corners of Abby’s eyes crinkle as she smiles at you, and it’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t by your side.
Letting out a full-bodied yawn, you reluctantly give the container of fruit to the resentful man, who is now preoccupied with cleaning his gun and pretending neither of you exists.
Manny scoffs, then extends his peace offering of a dry blanket and some jerky.
“You need rest, sleepyhead,” he says, rising to examine the perimeter alongside his loyal companion. “We’ll take first watch.”
“Nah, I’m good—I’ll crash when we get back.”
Abby nudges you with her elbow before letting her hand linger where the container used to be. Her thumb unconsciously glides back and forth over your knee as she squeezes it.
“He’s right,” she says. “You can’t keep going like this.”
Sleep doesn’t come easily anymore, and nobody understands that better than Abby.
It’s not the nightmares that bother you nearly as much as the relentless struggle your brain endures to transition from drowsiness to deep sleep. It’s impossible to tally the countless nights you’ve spent yearning for slumber, as the hours slip away behind your restless eyelids.
Manny plants a knowing kiss on the top of your head before he sets off for patrol. The years of trauma have deeply affected all of you, leaving an indelible mark.
Abby, with her long legs stretched out, leans back on her arms, and soaks in the fire’s heat as embers pop below the flames.
“Are they back again—the bad dreams?” she asks.
“Not really,” you shrug.
With a sleepy blink, Abby turns her head to look at you. A slow, contented smile curls on her lips as she watches you pluck blades of grass from the ground, tearing them into smaller fragments. Your eyes fixate on the slender blade of grass, now cinched above your knuckle. It splotches your fingertip, turning it cold.
As Abby prods your thigh, coaxing you to keep talking, you give her a sheepish nod.
“I just can’t get there sometimes, you know?” you continue, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I’d take the nightmares at this point.”
Abby drags her backpack closer and lays her jacket overtop, covering the carabiners and jagged hooks. Expectantly, she pats the pillow she has made for you.
“Get over here, you broken girl,” she teases. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
“There’s no point,” you chuckle, giving her boot a gentle kick. “Why don’t you try?”
With a defiant grin, she sticks her tongue out at you.
 “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
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The coordinates provided by Isaac point to a prison camp of some sort. Reaching the crest of the hill after a challenging hike, you’re hit with a wave of exhaustion and regret.
A larger extraction team would have been a wise choice.
The encampment is teeming with soldiers donning bulletproof vests and helmets. Scattered across the grounds, putrid skeletons squirm and writhe, their movements restricted by chains tethered to their rotten flesh.
It turns your stomach sour to see some soldiers finding pleasure in agitating them.
“What the hell is wrong with these assholes?” Abby asks.
“Sick fucks,” you mutter.
Abby carefully weaves her way through the dense trees, determined to get a better view through the fence. When she glances back at you, it’s apparent that something is not right.
Manny nods at a building in the distance. On the crumbling brick wall, there is a spray-painted image of a snake coiling around a skull.  
“I’ve heard of this group,” Manny says. “They’re moving north. This is not good—we’re going to need backup.”
“We don’t have time,” you say.
As Abby skillfully navigates the encampment’s perimeter, the two of you shadow her every move.
Booming music fills the camp, a risky sign of disregard that surprisingly hasn’t attracted more infected. By using it to mask your infiltration, you might gain an advantage and, better yet, retrieve your team undetected.
“Let’s scope the joint, locate our people, and split,” Abby says. “We’ve only got one shot at this.”
Manny is meticulous about finding his vantage point, choosing the most effective spot to serve as a sniper. His job is to safeguard both of you as you traverse the site, and he doesn’t take his responsibility lightly.
As soon as you receive the green light, you instinctively reach for your gun, feeling the satisfying click as you disengage the safety. With a quick glance at Abby, you extend your hand, and she laces her rugged fingers through yours.
“May your survival be long,” you say.
With a gentle tug, she brings your hand to her chest, where you can feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
“May our death be swift."
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Resembling twisted Christmas ornaments, an array of belongings they’ve snatched from their victims hang abandoned and forgotten from lifeless trees. Your chest constricts as you identify a patch you recognize.
Sensing your distress, Abby moves closer, pressing against your lower back to provide guidance and remind you to maintain your focus.
Their ethics are even more deplorable than those of the WLF, and you genuinely didn’t think that was possible.
The number of your combatants in need of rescue had dwindled to only two, and the haunting image of what remains of the others will etch itself in your memory forever.
With badly malnourished soldiers in tow, you push yourself to move as quickly as possible, helping them navigate the terrain back to the Humvee.
The weight of your collective losses in this unforgiving world has left you feeling numb. As you think of the families waiting back home for loved ones who will never return, and all the prisoners you weren’t able to bring with you, the magnitude of going back for their belongings is paralyzing.
Returning empty-handed to those partners and friends seems wrong, and it won’t suffice; you need more than tales of sorrow to help honour their memories.
Without a second thought, your feet propel you forward, leaving your mind scrambling to catch up. While Abby and Manny are busy tending to the injured soldiers, you slip away unnoticed.
The notion doesn’t seem all that dangerous until you turn the first corner and come face to face with a stranger in a tactical vest.
Without surveillance or a potent ally to subdue and immobilize them before they can raise an alarm, you’re entirely on your own.
You make the first move, and with a swift strike, send them tumbling to the ground. The sudden commotion seizes the attention of everyone nearby, and when the music unexpectedly cuts, the bloodcurdling screams of the infected echo through the air. A chilling reminder of the grave error in judgment you’ve made.
Attempting to retrace your steps and return to your team, panic sets in as you notice that the enemies have strategically positioned themselves to surround the area from all sides.
A white-hot burn explodes through your back, and at first, you think someone must’ve bashed you with a lead pipe. Pressing your hand against the fire in your stomach, you can feel the wetness of blood as it stains your fingers, leaving no room for doubt that a bullet has found its mark.
Adrenaline drives you to take shelter behind a cement barricade as the periphery of your vision becomes hazy.
Chaos breaks out from a distance, and you pray your squad has the good sense to leave you behind. Suddenly, the deafening, sharp cracks of rapid gunfire surround you, and the only thing you recognize before the world goes dark is Abby’s piercing scream calling out your name.
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When you blink awake, it’s to the rhythmic patter of rain against a tin roof. Through the window, angry storm clouds dominate the sky, casting a gloomy shadow over the room.
Pain radiates from somewhere in your abdomen, maybe everywhere. As you try to make sense of your surroundings, fatigue lurks, threatening to pull you back under. You muster a feeble effort to lift the blanket off your body, straining to pinpoint the source of your discomfort.
Abruptly, Abby’s presence is at your bedside, her warm hand caressing your jaw.
“Hey—leave it. Don’t try to sit up.”
She drapes the blanket over you, carefully tucking it under your back. Her face twists with worry when you let out a pained whimper.
The windowpane rattles from a clap of thunder, jolting you. A searing pang shoots through your spine.
“Abby,” you rasp, your throat like splintered kindling. “Am I bit?”
Your shallow breathing becomes rapid as the memory fights to resurface.
Her eyes brim with tears, and she pulls your knuckles to her lips.
“You caught a bullet, you tough fucking girl.”
Hanging on a chain around her neck, she absentmindedly fidgets with the relic before showing it to you.
“Such a badass,” she whispers, chin trembling. “I pulled it out of the wall.”
Thirst tortures you as words struggle to push beyond your sore lips. Abby disappears for a breath and returns with a cup of water. She carefully positions the straw at the corner of your mouth, instructing you to take small sips.
“You went back?” you choke.
The sharp pain that hits you when your core muscles contract to accommodate your coughing fit is unbearable. Tears stream down your face and Abby wipes them all away, her own tears threatening to fall.
“Was anyone else hurt?” you ask.
The weight of guilt crushes you as you witness the anguish on her face.
“Manny,” you shudder.
Shaking her head, a faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
“Nobody can touch that fucker.”
“Then who?” you ask.
With a powerful pull, she yanks a chair to the side of your bed, causing the legs to scrape against the floor. Dark purple bags cast heavy shadows under her tired eyes, the sensitive skin surrounding them appearing raw and irritated. She rubs at the area with her fist, trying to alleviate exhaustion or ward it away. It’s become a familiar sight over the years.  
“Abby. Who?”
As she speaks, her voice grows huskier, carrying a hint of menace that borders on a snarl.
“All of them,” she says. “That camp is history and we’re just getting started. I’ll never let them hurt you again.”
The longing to curl up in her lap and hold her tight is almost enough to unearth the strength to do it.
Isaac would be the one to make the order if Abby didn’t do it herself, regardless of the mission’s outcome. He has zero tolerance for any threats to his land and his people, to an obvious fault.
But returning proved to be a mistake, and now Abby is enduring the consequences. It burns you worse than the gunshot wound.
“I shouldn’t have gone back. I’m sorry.”
 Abby rests her head on your hip, and against a tangle of tubes and wires, you wriggle your fingers into her messy braid. Tired blue eyes flutter as they look up at you, her hand sliding softly across your chest to rest above your heart.
“I love you,” Abby murmurs. “Do you know that?”
“How much?” you ask, brushing her hair back from her forehead and letting the pad of your thumb drag over her furrowed brow. “As much as I love you?”
“More,” she says.
Her eyes gradually blink against burgeoning lethargy. When they shut, you trace her eyelids as her hand grips the fabric over your heart, planting herself there.
She makes one last confession before exhaustion takes her.
“I need you. Please don’t leave me now.”
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malinaa · 5 months
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as a hunger games and shadow and bones enjoyer, thoughts on a malina thg au, where they’re both tributes for 12?? mal is so peeta “boy next door, boy with the bread” energy
please just the thought of malina in the games makes me sob 😭 alina wouldn’t volunteer because honestly the only person she would volunteer for would be mal (and vice versa). i think at that point alina is just praying to anyone who would listen that let it not be mal let it not be mal not him please not him. but then d12’s escort calls out, “malyen oretsev” and her world crumbles before her eyes.
one of the big differences from everlark is def that malina’s romance dynamic is switched, on the surface at least. alina’s love for mal is so so so evident in the beginning of s&b but you don’t really get mal reciprocating that love until the latter half of the book (mal has been in love w her since he was literally a child.. peetacoded fr but he didn’t like act on it until he realized that he lost her … katnisscoded 🤭).
anyway everyone in d12 knows that they’re in love with each other but the other doesn’t know so the star-crossed lovers angle could still be played. mal is DEFINITELY charming and handsome enough to get the capitol eating off his hand (that one quote in s&s that’s like if you put him in a fjerdan camp he’ll come back on their shoulders etc etc). i think what spark’s the capitol’s interest in them is their closeness. that spark gets fanned into a flame when the tiny slip of a girl from district 12 got a high training score and idk if there’d be any grisha power in this au so use ur imagination. when the interviews roll around, i think alina would talk about mal in a way that makes the interviewer’s eyes gleam but they run out of time before they get to the Big Question. then mal’s interview rolls around and he charms everyone in the audience and when the interviewer asks, “and alina? you two are childhood friends, you grew up together. what was it like being reaped together?” and mal gives everyone a sad smile and says instead, “let me tell you a little story. i was never a brave kid.” and he laughs, self-deprecating. everybody’s attention is on him, their dissent rumbling through the air because there’s no way a d12 kid with a relatively high training score (i’m shooting for a 9 maybe. peeta’s 8 would be good too) wouldn’t be brave. “alina would argue with me just like you all are doing, but i swear it’s true. i was weak. afraid of the dark. the orphanage ran out of candles once during a storm and i couldn’t sleep and even though she was in a completely different part of the building, she knew that i had a fear of the dark, so she ran out in the middle of the night and traded some of her old clothes for a single candle. she slipped into my room, all wet from the rain but i didn’t care. alina lit the candle and all i could think was, ‘she’s so much braver than me.’ she gave me light.” mal locks his gaze with the interviewer. “she is my light.” anddddd time’s up!
the capitol’s abuzz with mal’s declaration. they feel like he’s def in love with her (he is) and she doesn’t know it (she doesn’t—probably thinks he’s playing it up for the camera for sponsors) etc etc. the games start idk they’d try to stick with each other and the gamemakers have sick fun trying to pull them apart just so that a reunion would boost ratings. mal keeps finding extreme ways to help alina and keep her safe and she’s doing the same, but mal is a good soldier. he probably downplayed his skills in training to everyone, even her because he’s a damn good shot and a damn good hunter. the 2 winners from the same district announcement gets made and they run with more vigor to find each other but when they do, they obviouslyyyyy need to have The Cave Scene so mal is injured by a mutt or something idk. the story that mal tells in the cave that gets them a Feast would probably be the similar one that peeta gave (“your hair was in two braids instead of one” blah blah) but mal’s version of probably an amalgamation of something similar to alina cutting up her hand and when baby mal said “i’m going to marry alina” and he definitelyyyyyy tucks alina’s hair back and whispers, “i wanted more for you. a white veil in your hair. vows we could keep.” and they Kiss blah blah u get it. they risk their lives for each other again, at the end mal grabs alina’s hand and positions the knife to his chest but alina throws the knife away and blah blah nightlock or whatever it could be something else. regardless they LIVE and boom. end of book 1 🙏
or you could have a thg malina au with grisha powers (but they’re hidden/not in the capitol maybe or idk) and mal does shove the knife into his heart and alina like Bursts into light and they get miraculously saved by her light and d13 rescues them idk
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submalevolentgrace · 1 year
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"Ramadan is a special time of year for Muslims around the world. It is a month that brings families, communities and entire countries together. For me, it was always a time of peace, spiritual dedication and reflection, and family bonding.
I remember fasting since I was a little child. My mother started training me when I was five years old, first having me complete half-day fasts. Then when I turned seven, I was able to do a full-day one, which earned me a lot of praise from family and friends.
As kids, we would stick out our tongues to each other to prove that we were fasting. A red tongue meant no fasting; a white and dry one, however, was a definite sign of it.
Most of the year my father worked abroad to provide for the family, and my mother was the one who raised and took care of us. In Ramadan, however, my father would come back to be with us.
We would start getting ready for iftar before sunset and my dad would sometimes cook the food. We would prepare special dishes, exchange food with other families and give it away to the poor. After dinner, we would go to the mosque to pray the nightly tarawih prayers.
We loved the special atmosphere Ramadan had and we all waited impatiently for this month to come each year.
In 2001, after I was sold to the CIA by local warlords in Afghanistan, I spent my 18th Ramadan in a black site – naked, blindfolded, and chained all day in a cold, dark cell under the ground. The American agents would blast loud music constantly and would only stop it when they would take me out for an interrogation. I didn’t – and couldn’t – know when Ramadan started, as I had no way to estimate the time of day.
I was given a “meal” every other day which basically involved soldiers pushing food and water into my mouth, feeding me “Meals Ready to Eat” (MREs). There was no going to the toilet, I defecated where I was chained. I lost so much weight that I passed out and I was given intravenous transfusions every few days.
Still, I wanted to observe Ramadan and decided that whenever they fed me, it was when I broke my fast. When I told the interrogators that I needed to fast because I thought the holy month had started, they mocked me.
By the time my 19th Ramadan came, I had already been transferred to Guantanamo along with hundreds of other Muslims. We were quite a diverse group; some 50 nationalities were represented and 20 languages spoken.
We were so isolated that we didn’t realise it was Ramadan until the Muslim chaplain came and told us. It turned out we weren’t supposed to know the time and date, as it was a “matter of camp security and safety”.
“Ramadan Kareem, Ramadan Mubarak”, we congratulated each other in different languages. We all knew that Ramadan was going to be hard, given the living conditions in the camp.
The guards made it difficult to fast, serving food not before sunrise and after sunset – when we would start and break our fast – but when they decided to.
We would take the food and try to hide it so we could eat later, but the guards kept conducting cell searches and punished anyone who hid food by putting them in solitary confinement and depriving them of food.
So we decided simply to refuse to eat. We spent a few days not eating and asked them to bring the food on time, threatening to go on a collective hunger strike. After a few days, they gave us two meals, one before dawn and the second after sunset.
But then the guards started intentionally delaying our meals and would even steal from them. The MREs we were given were already meagre – we even called them “Meals that Refused to Exist” – and still they always took what they liked from them, usually the sweets.
We literally starved during this time.
When we tried to do a long nightly tarawih prayer, the guards didn’t let us. They told us we were allowed to pray only five times a day and could not pray collectively. While we stood to pray, they harassed and mocked us, and conducted cell searches. The guards knew that we can’t talk while praying, yet they considered this a refusal to respond and punished us for it.
If anyone didn’t respond, the guards would call the Immediate Reaction Force (IRF) team to forcibly extract a prisoner from his cell even while praying. Interrogations doubled during that Ramadan to intimidate us even more.
At one point, the interrogators started a new tactic to divide the prison population by offering to move prisoners to a quiet block if they cooperated with them. None of us bought into this; we stayed united and did things our own way.
Apart from the many challenges we faced during our first Ramadan in Guantanamo, we also spent the holy month thinking a lot about our families and homes, we missed them and missed observing Ramadan with them.
But we also realised that we had a new family – one big Guantanamo family. We talked about the different Ramadan traditions we had back home and the food we cooked. The beautiful memories we shared brought happiness and made us appreciate the holy month even more.
And so the Ramadans in detention rolled on, one after the other. We always prayed for freedom and justice, not only for ourselves but for everyone in the world who was unjustly imprisoned and oppressed.
When the holy month would come, we would sometimes be caged in solitary confinement. At other times we were in open cages where we could pass food to each other. When there was no food, or it was served too late, prisoners would share a single date or one apple or a slice of bread they managed to hide from the guards.
Sometimes the food would return to the person who first passed it on because each prisoner wanted his brother to eat first. Such moments filled my eyes with tears. Waddah, a Yemeni prisoner, was known to only eat one meal a day and would always send his meals to other prisoners, to those who starved. “I can’t bear seeing my brothers starve,” he told me. This tender man did not make it alive out of Guantanamo.
In 2006, we had one of the hardest holy months.
We were a year into our collective hunger strike, for which we were punished by being brutally force-fed. The camp administration had made rules even harsher and our living situation had worsened. The appointment of Lt Ron DeSantis – the present governor of Florida – as Judge Advocate General to supposedly ensure we are treated humanely did not make a difference
Three months before the start of Ramadan, three of our brothers – Yassir, Ali and Mana’i – died. The camp administration said they committed suicide; we knew they were lying. Two of them were approved to be released from Guantanamo; why would they take their own lives? While an official investigation by the US government maintained that the deaths were suicides, people who investigated the matter separately, including a former guard, suspected that our brothers were killed during torture.
That Ramadan, we fasted and prayed with broken hearts.
The following year, we spent the holy month in solitary confinement. The camp administration pressed on with brutal force-feeding but at least we managed to convince them to do it before dawn and after sunset to observe fasting times.
The situation continued like that till 2010, when the Obama administration decided to slightly improve our living conditions, having failed to close Guantanamo, America’s black hole. We negotiated with the camp administration to allow communal living in return for an end to the hunger strike.
That year we had one of our best Ramadans. I still remember the day it started – it was August 11, 2010. We had better food, refrigerators and microwaves, and our families and lawyers sent us spices and sweets. Prisoners from different countries cooked their dishes and shared them with everyone.
Each two blocks out of the six housing prisoners were allowed to be together during Ramadan, so we had a collective iftar every day. We shared our food with some guards and camp staff who liked it.
We were free to be together 24 hours a day so we could do all our prayers together. For the first time, we felt it was Ramadan, although we were away from our families. Some of the guards tried to fast too, we encouraged them and prepared special food for them.
During Ramadan in 2011, there was a Muslim navy guard who would always pray and fast with us. He would join us for iftar and we became very close friends. He contacted me this year and we said Ramadan Mubarak to each other.
As I mark my seventh Ramadan as a free man, I still think of my brothers, my big Guantanamo family, and the many holy months we spent together.
This Ramadan, 31 men are breaking their fasts in Guantanamo without their families, far away from their homes, having been imprisoned for more than two decades. Seventeen of them have been cleared for release.
We must not rest until all of them are free and are able to sit at the iftar table with their loved ones."
-Mansoor Adayfi, held captive by Americans for 14 years without charge
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pirateswhore · 9 months
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Have Another Go - 3A fic
posted on AO3 as well
summary - Killian seeks out and comforts Emma after hearing her parents' confessions in the cave. The two bond over their pasts.
prompts and feedback are always welcome. happy reading !
He felt a pit in his stomach coming out of the cave. He was forced to reveal his secret, to open his heart and lay it out in front of people who were, still at this point, loose acquaintances at best. Not to mention that Neal was back now and he could probably slice through the tension in the air between them with his hook.
Something else seemed to be troubling him as well - Lady Snow's secret. He could understand her reasoning, meeting your child when they're 28 and fully grown can't be easy and it was clear to Hook that the two missed out on a lot of moments together. But the way she phrased it made his gut churn.
"I want to have another go," really? This wasn't some sort of circus attraction paid for with dabloons, this was another child she was taking about. A replacement child. Her words knocked the air out of him, memories of his own past flooding back. If it hurt him this much, he can't imagine how upset it made Emma, she'd already been riled up from hearing about Neal.
He grimaced and looked around the camp - she was nowhere to be found. He excused himself, mumbled something about needing to fill his water canteen, and made his way down to the spring near their camp. He pushed aside the thick foliage and his eyes settled on a petite figure sitting near the water, knees brought up to her chest as she twirled a stick back and forth in the small pond.
"Mind some company, love?" he asked for permission before stepping forward.
"Don't wanna talk to anyone, Hook." she spat back, trying to make it sound angry and determined, but it did a poor job of masking the tremble in her voice.
"Good, because I came here to think too. We can think in silence together, no?"
She thought about it for a moment before scooting over to make room for him on the bank. He settled down a little way away from her, giving her space. Last thing he wanted was to push her too hard right now, when she was obviously upset and hurting. They sat together in blissful silence for a while, Emma continuing to twirl the stick in the water in front of her, Hook simply enjoying the sound of running water. Much to his surprise, she spoke first.
"You were an orphan." He couldn't make out if it was a statement or a question, but he confirmed nonetheless. "Did your parents die?" she turned her head to face him now, eyes red and nose puffy - she'd been crying.
"Sort of. My mother died when I was a wee lad. My father sold my brother and I into servitude a year later."
"Your father sold you?!" she dropped the stick as her eyes shot wide open. "What the fuck was wrong with him?"
He pained a smile spread across his face at his reaction. "He was wanted by the royal soldiers. Gambling debts or an unpaid tavern tap, I'm not quite sure. He hurried the three of us onto a trade ship and left us there. The captain said he traded us to him for a skiff."
"Your father sold you so he could safe his own ass," she repeated, almost as if to confirm she had heard him right.
"Aye. My brother and I spent some 10ish years on that ship, until it sank and we were the only 2 survivors. We were found by some naval officers and offered a position on their ship - this one paid for."
"And I thought being stuffed in a wardrobe was rough," she chuckled.
"Your parents did what they thought was best for you. Even when they hurt you, they were still looking out for you."
Her faint smile dropped completely at that. "Yeah, and now they're regretting it and having a second kid. Here on Neverland, they're starting a new family without me," she went back to absentmindedly twirling a different stick in the water, "and silly me thought I would've been enough for them. Or anyone, really."
"You're enough for me," he thought to himself. He wanted so desperately to pull her close and tell her it's going to be okay, that she'll never again have to be alone or feel abandoned or replaced or like she's not enough. Instead, he spoke quietly with his eyes still on the water in front.
"I'm sorry for what your mother said in the cave, Swan. I understand what she meant, but the way it phrased it, it was..." he moved closer to her, their sides now touching, "it was wrong."
"S'okay," she mumbled out. They sat like that in silence some more, he was surprised but glad that she made no move to get away from him.
"I met my father years after he had abandoned me." He spoke first this time. Her head turned to him, a quizzical look overtaking her features. He continued. "In a tavern, he had moved on as if nothing had happened. Met another woman, had a son with her too. Named him Liam." his jaw clenched at the last word.
"Liam... wasn't that your brother's name ?"
"Aye. My father had a replacement son. And I guess it was clear which of his boys he felt was worth replacing."
"Oh Killian..." She reached over and placed her hand over his on his thigh. He winced at the use of his real name, having not heard it said by another person in years. "I'm so, so sorry." She squeezed his hand and he looked at her.
"It's alright, love. It's been years, I'd come to terms with it years ago." Now he was the one who couldn't hide the tremble in his voice. "Even before he left, while mother was still alive and we were at our happiest, it was fairly apparent that he preferred Liam over me. He always was the better brother."
"That doesn't mean what he did was right."
They once again sank into silence, her hand still on his. When she spoke again, it was a hushed whisper.
"I guess I didn't even realise how right I was."
"Hm? What's that, Swan?" she craned her neck to look at him, green and blue locking together.
"When I was urging you to help us, I said that you and I understand each other. I didn't realise how true that was at the time, but the more time we spend together and the more I get to know you, the more I realise we're a lot alike."
He smiled at her and she smiled back.
"Aye, love. I guess you're right." Her head fell onto his shoulder and their eyes drifted over to the water in front of them.
"Hook?"
He hummed in response.
"After we find Henry and we're safely back in Storybrook, I won't fight you on your promise. To win my heart, I mean. If it still stands? Just... right now, he's my first priority, but after that?"
He pulled his hand away and wrapped that arm around her, pulling her just a smidge closer. "Of course it still stands. I never go back on a promise. And we will save your boy, I promise you that."
She hummed in response, linking their fingers together and whispered "Good". He could feel her smile against his shoulder so he squeezed her hand in return.
They returned to camp a little while later. Her parents gave them a look, Regina made a comment about them getting lost in the jungle and Neal attempted to jump into a conversation with Emma, although she shoved past him without a word, annoyed at his presence. She sat next to Regina by the fire so they could discuss some magic stuff. Hook sat down on a log, trying his best to avoid both Neal and David. He was not looking forward to a conversation with either, knowing damn well it would center around Emma and his intentions with her. Still, she glanced over at him a couple of times and smiled, careful not to linger long enough for others to notice.
There was still hope, a chance that she would accept his advances and maybe, just maybe, let him court her.
But for now, he seems to have calmed her mind a little - that was enough for him, her happiness and content. And perhaps he too could have "another go" at loving someone once they return safely to Storybrook.
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theawkwardterrier · 11 months
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Wednesday 100: S5 Series, cont.
Bree (5x06) 
“—and a bowl of milk will be fine, but cream is better."
Bree crosses her arms, looking only half amused. "I think we can take care of your cat, Mama."
"Of course, darling. It's only that I've never left the poor thing alone before."
"He won't be alone, that's the point." Eyeing Claire cuddling Adso, she adds, "Hey, if I didn't know better, I'd say you love that thing more than me."
Jamie, who has been waiting on the porch, sticks his head in. "Dinna be daft, a leannan. O' course we love you and yer wee brother the same."
Murtagh (5x07)
He cannot truly feel his godson's hands, only sees the stricken movement — not a soldier's instincts or someone trained by a healer wife, but a child's impulse, desperate to keep the blood inside where it belongs, to keep hold on someone he loves.
He wishes he could stay, yet he cannot regret what brought him here, cannot regret the righteous fight and brotherhood, the foundations of freedom. Even far from home, he isn't dying for nothing. He is doing it for Jamie, instead of him, so it will be years until he knows himself that it doesn't hurt a bit.
Ian (5x08)
He had known that the Ridge would be changed — he has been gone too long and Uncle Jamie's plans had been too expansive for it not to have — and yet Ian had still imagined that same little cabin here. He had wanted it, in some ways, wanted to somehow find himself turning back into the boy he had been then: someone who had suffered, yes, but someone who could smile without effort, who could imagine his bright future ahead.
But now he is here, haunting that big house, no long husband, father, warrior, tribesman, seeing only hopeless darkness awaiting him.
Marsali (5x09)
"Dinna tell me ye don't have snakes in yer time," Daddy says to Ma, and Marsali hears but does not pause in her work, only thinks to herself Yer time? and So that's what it is about her, and decides to speak of it with Fergus later.
A bit of her does feel invisible just then, wondering if they hadn't considered her worthy of true explanation or even excuses — misspeaking or delirium. The rest, however, feels warmed all through by the thought that they consider her family now, trusting her with their secrets, knowing that she accepts them both unguarded.
Roger (5x09)
He is a minister's son. He knows the confessions of the dying are meant to be sacred. That his father-in-law still lives does not change that he spoke this in confidence, as a last resort.
And yet when Bree asks if there is something else, he does not recall his duty to the dying, but that to his wife. He has kept things from her before, telling himself that it was for her own good, and brought only suffering to them all. He’s learned that lesson. He tells Brianna the hard truth.
He thinks Jamie Fraser would—will understand that.
Jamie (5x11)
"We just finished the upstairs," he had told John, and it feels now as if he had spoken a curse upon them, that specter that has visited them more than once before, as they grew settled, as they came to believe that they would have a life of perfectly twined peace.
But Jamie Fraser decides no. They will not be haunted again. They will have that peace, their walls and neighbors firm around them.
He has burned the cross. He will burn the world to find his wife and bring her back whole to this home they have built together.
Fergus (post 5x12)
The nightmares only start a week after.
It makes Fergus feel foolish, that he could ride to rescue Milady, take lives doing it, that he could find Marsali, think she was dead and still hold and joke with her later, and now once everything is calm, the nightmares come.
It makes him feel foolish, that he dreams of himself, laughing with Milord while Marsali shouts for him until she is shoved into silence and Germain stands outside alone, waiting and waiting.
That's why his hand finds the bottle: so he won't feel foolish, guilty, helpless, won't feel anything at all.
Claire (S5)
She realizes one day, looking around the house, that she still doesn't own a vase. She realizes the next minute that it doesn't matter.
She has here her garden and her favorite berry patches in the woods, patients and people who greet her each day. She has the children who have become hers, and her grandchildren too. Her husband has given her two rings, a cat, seeds for cabbages and marigolds, a strong roof, a surgery built by his own hands, windows no matter how dear the price, and everything of himself besides.
She has the vase already, and more.
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pealeii · 3 months
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ok only if you want but can yuppie give me a rundown of the les mis fandom/ characters? Like who is enjolras and why do people ship him with the guy whose name starts with g and ends with taire? Idk I remember the plot of valjean stealing bread then taking care of a dead lady's daughter while running from the worst cop ever add the daughter like falls in love with eddie redmayne but i remember none of the freedom guys lol.
Again, only if you want to but i keep seeing les mis on my dash and I'm genuinely curious!
HAHAHAHA OKAY
I don’t feel super qualified to answer this cuz I haven’t read all of the book yet, but I LOVE the musical and thank you for indulging me cuz this musical has my heart, body, and soul
So your first question is about Enjolras and Grantaire. One of the storylines in Les Mis is about the June Rebellion, which was an anti-monarchist uprising (that actually happened irl but that’s besides the point.) In the show, Enjolras is the intense and passionate leader of this revolution. He has a bunch of friends who have joined in his cause. One of them is Marius (played by Eddie Redmayne in the 2012 movie) who falls in love with this girl (Cosette) who happens to be the adoptive daughter of a known convict. But we’ll get to that later. So Marius comes in being all “I’M IN LOVE” and Enjolras is like “NO WTF I DONT CARE STICK TO THE PROGRAM WE ARE TRYING TO REVOLT 👏 AGAINST 👏 THE 👏MONARCHS 👏 AND FREE 👏 THE 👏 PEOPLE”
So Enjolras is all revolution, no nonsense. And all the other schoolboys (the barricade boys) are on his side. But then there’s Grantaire, who believes in nothing and is constantly drunk. Depending on the version, but in the book especially, it’s pretty clear that he is hopelessly in love with Enjolras. Again, Enjolras is taking none of that cuz he’s in love with France. In the book, there’s an interaction between them where Enjolras says “You don’t believe in anything.” And Grantaire says “I believe in you.”
So the rebellion culminates in the boys building a massive barricade, waiting there to fight the soldiers that oppose them, for the freedom of the people. No matter how passionate and strong-willed the boys of the revolution are, it is sadly hopeless. The soldiers and policeman kill them. The last one to die is Enjolras, triumphant till the end. But wait! While the guards are closing in on Enjolras, who pops up, drunk and out-of-it but GRANTAIRE HIMSELF. He goes over and asks if he can stand by Enjolras (“Permets-tu?” in the original French book. Which roughly means “Do you permit it?”) They take each other’s hands and DIE TOGETHER so no wonder ppl ship them.
As for Marius and the girl he likes. The girl is Cosette, whose mother was a woman living in poverty and fending for herself named Fantine. She could not take care of Cosette, so a kind man named Jean Valjean took her as his own. And Fantine passes :(
But a lil thing about Jean Valjean is that he stole some bread to save his sister’s child but was CAUGHT so he spent 19 years imprisoned. After that, his porale began but it WASNT ENOUGH cuz the guy who oversaw those prisoners was INSPECTOR JAVERT, a man who made it his life mission (he thinks it was God-ordained as well) to track down and capture Jean Valjean. So Jean Valjean has been relentlessly pursued by Javert ever since. And when Valjean finally gets the chance to end Javert’s life and end this chase, he spares him, shows him mercy. Javert, in his dedication to the law and his ONE mission, cannot take this mercy, and throws himself off a bridge. :{
The barricade boys have fallen, Javert has fallen. And eventually, Valjean will be taken from the world as well.
And Cosette and Marius get married yayyyyyyy
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theatricalfangirl · 2 months
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Okay, episode 3 thoughts.
Sokka is precious, geeking out over the mechanist’s workshop. Teo is such a cute kid too, he so excited. I love that they’re giving him and Aang a little more time together, Teo clearly has some hero worship of Aang, not just because he’s the avatar but because he’s an Airbender. They’re so close in age, I think it’s good that Aang has made a friend who he can go flying with. It’s a way for him to remember and honor his history and friends.
I’m glad they don’t have them just needlessly destroying the old air temple, that always made me mad. I feel like, when the war is over Teo would definitely become an Air Acolyte like we see in Korra’s time. Live action Teo seems to have a level of respect for the air nomads history and culture that we didn’t see as much in the cartoon.
I like how they mixed Omashu, the mechanist, and Jet all in one episode, I feel like it’ll work well enough, telling the story and including elements from the original.
I think it’s interesting that Ozai had Azula infiltrate the group trying to assassinate him. She was clearly acting on his orders, but he could use this as a further method to keep her under his control if she ever started getting ideas. Conspiring to kill her father, the Firelord would definitely be treason and Ozai could easily bribe/threaten those guards to testify that Azula did it of her own free will, with intention to murder him.
I love Ty Lee’s actress (and not just because she’s friends with Walker Scobell). She’s played roles where her character feels outshone by her siblings so we already know she can do an amazing job with that aspect of her character. I really like how the fire nation uses fire phrases in everyday life. Azula says “they’re not the brightest of flames.”
I’m glad we’re starting to see Katara let her more negative emotions, yelling at Sokka, standing up to Jet, but I want to see her go further. She tries to reason with Jet first, then goes to Aang and Sokka for help, she could’ve taken him.
The lady hitting Zuko with a stick “How dare you hit that child!” I lost my mind, I love it. Seeing an adult who’s not just passively watching Aang (a literal child) have to fight someone a lot older than he is, stepping in trying to help? We only see a few characters like that in the cartoon, ones we know are already fighting the fire nation. This lady just saw a little kid getting picked on and jumped in to help.
Now, Zuko leaving his Uncle in Omashu when they’re discovered is rubbing me the wrong way. In the original we see Zuko going to great lengths to save his Uncle when he’s captured by Earth Kingdom soldiers. He even eventually tries to free him when Iroh is imprisoned by the Fire nation, Iroh just escapes first. I know he’ll be back, but I don’t know, it feels odd for Zuko to have basically run away to save himself.
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talizorahs · 2 years
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can you please make another bad batch gen fic rec list?
anon my darling!! of course i can! i've been tossing up the idea anyway, as my old fic rec list (found here) turns 10 months old in a few days. so much has changed since then, and the fandom has had some amazing fics shared with it in that time. so without further ado...
Bad Batch Fic Rec List 2.0
find below 17 gen fic recs which cover pre-canon, republic era and imperial era, also with a section for alternate au fics.
happy reading! <3
Backstory / Pre-Canon
stick together by delightwrites.
Gen | 2.9k words | Complete
Summary: "Hunter hated individual training because it separated him from his squad. He didn't even really know where his brothers were taken on those days, and even if he had known, he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't look after them."
a storm, a promise and four cadets all squeezed together in one bunk after a particularly hard day of training
Notable tags: Bad Batch as Kids, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, jeez give these boys a break
Comments: An oldie, but a goodie. I think this is one of the first fics I read when I rejoined fandom in June 2021 and it has had me in its claws ever since. Delightwrites paints us a lovely, but sad, scene of the Bad Batch in their formative years. They paint us such a good picture that the picture continues on into the painful events of the show, in fact. I will never forgive them for that. Mostly because of Transformersluna's matching comic. Ouch.
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Now We Are Free by wwheeljack.
Gen | 12k words | Complete
Summary: A few weeks before the start of the Clone Wars, Clone Force 99 are given leave and travel to Naboo for shore leave. Where Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker see a mission, Tech steps foot off Kamino for the first time in his life and changes his brothers' perspectives on the galaxy they live in.
Notable tags: N/A
Comments: I would put Wwheeljack's entire Ultra Soft Batch series here if I could, but this fic in particular has always stuck out to me in the series. It has a different tone to the rest of the entries in the journey of her story, and it writes us into a precedent that the remainder of the series is trying to catch up to.
Now We Are Free is a story about brotherhood in the face of cruelty, no matter the source. It is gentle, or it at least potrays men that are trying to be gentle in a universe that wants them to be anything but. It portrays a different start to the Clone Wars than the rest of the clones get, but the Bad Batch have always been different, so it's very fitting.
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Drizzle by tincturedwords.
Gen | 15k words | Complete
Summary: One of the handlers is stupidly reckless with Crosshair’s training one day and the rest fo the batch are there to help in the aftermath.
Notable tags: Abuse of Authority, Caretaking, Hypothermia, Sharing a Bed
Comments: Drizzle is one of those fics you want to read when it's raining, to picture both the vivid scene that Tincturedwords paints us, but also the gentle comfort the second half of the fic boasts. The fic manages to say so many things without saying much at all. Tincturedwords' writing style really plays into this well, making the fic easy to read, and even easier to picture exactly what is going on. There are both big moments in the fic that I adored envisioning, such as the training sequence with sets of this series of events, but also the smaller and more initimate moments between the Bad Batch as well. There's plenty of those in the fic, even hidden between the lines, the sort that make you go "oh". Wait for a rainy day for this one, and make yourself a nice cup of tea!
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Republic Era
Art of War by Moxibustion (RyuuzaKochou).
Gen | 73k words | Complete
Summary: Echo had never had any particular talents. He'd never sought to be special, never tried to break the mould. He'd never aspired to be anything more than a clockwork soldier, watching his far more brilliant brothers rise up above him. He'd never expected to wake up one day and find out that he was, in fact, the last of them.
Funny old galaxy, really.
Now he was in the Bad Batch and one thing he was rapidly beginning to understand is this: in a galaxy filled with combat engineers, the Bad Batch are artists. Echo had never really known much about art. At least… that's what he'd always thought. New body, new squad - maybe it was time to look at things in a whole new way.
A story about art, war, coping, hanging on, letting go, restoration, reforging, plotting in a brig, military intelligence isn't, Wrecker's diplomacy doesn't, cooking, the thin line between genius and madness, starting over, struggling with loss, team bonding, art therapy, guerilla knitting therapy, big boom therapy, shaking down shinies for fun and profit, guilt, rage, forgiveness, waging war by fitting in…
… and making your peace with standing out.
Notable tags: Grief/Mourning, Finding Your Place, Echo-Centric, Echo Is Equal Parts BAMF - Sassmaster - And Cinnamon Roll
Comments: I don't where to begin with this fic. The whole piece is just... wow. It's a work of art. Moxibustion is a master of the written word and every single chapter of this is example of their command of the craft. They weave us a beautiful story about Echo settling into life with the Bad Batch, but at the same time, reconciling the fact that his old life is gone. Fives is gone. The 501st as he knew it is gone. It has that bittersweet tone to it in that sense, but it is also respectful of Echo's capabilities as a trained soldier - and the Batch's abilities in turn.
Art of War treats us to a chapter for each member of the Bad Batch and Echo acclimatising to them, with an overarching storyline about grief, fitting in, and taking care of yourself. It fits on a beautiful, poignant note about Order 66 (unbeknownst to the cast of characters) and the authorities which surround the Grand Army of the Republic. I will always go back to this fic when I have a few hours to kill. I find something new hidden amongst the dialogue every single time, as Moxibustion writes each character as if they have been lifted from the show itself, then some. I will highlight Tech's two chapters in particular. I adore all of it so very much. Truly a gift to the fandom.
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Success Rate by Viva_Islenska.
Gen | 64k words | Ongoing (14/16 chapters)
Summary: On a risky assignment to liberate allied hostages, Clone Force 99 is ambushed and overwhelmed. With the mission objective at stake, Tech and Echo stay behind as the rest of the Bad Batch is forced to make a hasty escape. Hunter, Crosshair, and Wrecker race to complete the assignment while Echo, dazed, injured, and badly damaged, occupies a prison cell onboard a transport bound for kark-knows-where. What’s worse? His brother lies bleeding and bereft of his goggles in the cell next door. (Takes place between CW 7.4 and TBB 1.1)
Notable tags: CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo Whump, Tech Whump (Star Wars: The Bad Batch)
Comments: Success Rate is a heart-stopping thriller from cover-to-cover and we've only just got to the gentle comfort of 'hurt/comfort' in the most recent chapter 14. Viva_Islenka is an amazing writer for the heart-wrenching torture scenes, gripping rescue scenes, careful medical scenes, and finally, the gentle comforting scenes at the end. Their version of the Bad Batch are so astute to their canon selves that it feels like you are reading an episode straight out of the show itself. I really, really enjoy their writing style and how it moulds so well into the story they are telling us, albeit laced with maximum hurt/comfort to boot! Please go give them some love for the ongoing story!
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Grit by CT_IForgot.
Gen | 33k words | Ongoing (12/? chapters) Currently on hiatus.
Summary: Grit (n.) 1. Small particles of sand. 2. Courage, resolve, determination.
Grit (v.) 3. Doing absolutely anything and everything possible to ensure the five squad members that started the mission are still alive at the end of the mission.
Notable tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Injury
Comments: This style of mission fic is not one you often see in fandom, so CT_IForgot treats us to a horror-esque story that's written with expert craftmanship to match. Their writing style is born for this sort of story; suspenseful, action-packed, and gutwrenching. They paint us a vivid picture of the Bad Batch (with Echo) trying to confront an invisible foe, but also foes from within the Grand Army of the Republic. The story also allows the Bad Batch to fail (and fail they do!) which is another theme not often explored within this fandom and its fan fiction. And not only does it allow them to fail, but it explores their failures and the realistic consequences of said failures, while still sticking to its horror-esque genre and the mission fic trope.
I can't give CT_IForgot enough love this amazing addition to the fandom's fan fiction halls. Please go give them some extra love while they're on hiatus! Please also be sure to heed the warnings!
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To Love and Be Loved by eternalqueenofthemyscira.
Gen | 11k words | Complete
Summary: Three times that Tech’s brothers tell him that they love him and one time he starts to believe them.
Notable tags: Brotherly Love
Comments: This fic is just. So cute. I go back and re-read it when I need a pick-me-up, or when I need to wind down in the evenings. Eternal writes us into four gorgeous scenarios across the Clone Wars (unfortunately without Echo) which focuses on Tech's relationship with the three other founding members of the Bad Batch. It borrows from Wwheeljack's Ultra Soft Batch series in a way, that Tech is characterised as an unsure and shy man who struggles to find his place in amongst his unit. But the fic is also gentle and permitting to Tech as he ponders his reason for being, while existing in a galaxy at war. Eternal gives Tech ample time to learn, and she is kind to the rest of the Bad Batch in turn, allowing them to be gentle despite what is going on around them.
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Pyrrhic Victory by TheEasternEmpress.
Gen | 5.8k words | Complete
Summary: Pyrrhic victory - a victory that comes at a great cost, perhaps making the ordeal to win not worth it.
The Bad Batch’s mission was marked as a success, but a feeling of failure flooded every corner of the Havoc Marauder. In their hearts, the Bad Batch knew they had truly failed.
Notable tags: Mentions of Child Death
Comments: As the name suggests, this fic follows a particularly haunting mission for the Bad Batch in the early years of the Clone Wars. We know that the unit boast a 100% success rate, but this fic is one of those that makes you ponder how that 'success' is defined. Empress explores this concept hauntingly, in a way, but also in a way that is comforting - to us as the readers, and to the characters in this scenario. I really enjoyed her use of language throughout the piece, with long, swelling paragraphs that paint the picture of a larger scene of desired peace between her Batch members. Though this is a sad fic, it's another one I go and re-read when I need it, because it gives you the message of "it's okay to fail, even if you've succeeded". It's a lovely message and this is a lovely fic to match.
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The Burden of Command by Destril.
Gen | 4.1k words | Complete
Summary: Hunter is struggling under the pressure of balancing his duty as their Sergeant and with his duty as their brother as the war rages on and Clone Force 99 is pushed to the brink. His team notices and steals a moment to just breathe and take care of their brother.
Notable tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hunter is trying to be the best leader and best brother he can
Comments: Full disclosure, I prompted this fic out of Destril because I adore her iteration of the Bad Batch so very much. The Burden of Command focuses on the unit nearing the end of the war (including Echo!), and it's a unit that's dreadfully weighed down by responsibility and fighting (fighting droids, and in-fighting). Like with Silence, Destril paints us a picture of an imperfect squad with a perfect track record. That pressure is enough for anyone to crumble under, to which this fic portrays them succumbing to some of the pressure. Hunter, specifically. Somebody needs to give that man a break.
Destril weaves us a beautiful picture of some of the Bad Batch's downtime with this fic. A slice of life, sort of thing, with hurt/comfort mixed it. Her writing is a treat, allowing us to explore those hidden moments, with beautiful brotherly intimacy between this group of 5 men. I'm very thankful for the chance to prompt her, and just had to include this fic in my must-read list.
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Imperial Era / Current Canon
Exceptional Minds by Echo_Base1.
Gen | 6.2k words | Complete
Summary: Tech and Omega grapple with guilt and unfamiliarity following Daro.
Notable tags: Omega & Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) (relationship), Character Study
Comments: This fic is a lovely insight into Tech's state of mind following the events of season 1, episode 14 (War Mantle). It sees Tech trying to reconcile what happened to Hunter with Tech's reason for being - his intelligence and his 'enhancement'. Echo_Base gives us some lovely insight into Tech's upbringing on Kamino for him to have adopted this point of view, and how the Bad Batch being on the run has continually challenged Tech's previous views of himself. It then complements this line of thinking, in its study of Tech, by introducing us to Omega, who is similarily upset after the events on Daro. The two of them have a heartfelt conversation about what happened. It's one of those canon 'missing scene' fics for me, between episodes 14 and 15, and one I will hold dearly to my chest. Echo_Base really brings it home here in the end, and goes in for the kill in the last section. A good read all the way through.
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I need a minute (to get my head straight) by postapocalyptic_cryptic.
Gen | 407 words (drabble) | Complete
Summary: For the dialogue prompts: 'I just need to rest' for Hunter.
Notable tags: Post Season 1, [Hunter's] had a rough couple of weeks
Comments: I always really enjoy Mikey's short Batch fics and this one is another great one to their collection. In 400 words, I am worrying, smiling sadly, worrying some more, and then smiling bittersweetly. It also touches on something the show does not - that is, is Hunter okay? He fell off a mountain, got captured, held hostage, fought droids, survived a bombardment, and then escaped a destroyed underwater city. Someone give this man a break.
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Long Road Ahead by pierced_shrike (hanged_albatross).
Gen | 3.1k words | Complete
Summary: Just like their armor, the Bad Batch changes over the months following the destruction of Kamino.
Notable tags: Obligatory Trailer Fic, Cuz ya'll- the outfit change
Comments: I love this fic. Love love love this fic. It fills the gap between seasons 1 and 2, where we now know we will see the Bad Batch change their armour. It is so bittersweet, so beautiful, yet tells the story it needs to. Every word has purpose and it hits said purpose, tenfold. I have always really enjoyed Hanged_Albatross' works (one featured on the last rec list!) so it's a joy to see them return to the fandom with such a gorgeous fic.
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Other / AU
Scrambled Feelings All Get Replaced by Littleking_caduceus.
Gen | 3.6k words | Complete
Summary: A distant part of Tech, the one separate from the chip, separate from the eyes wide with misplaced, fiery anger, would have screamed at himself. He was hurting his family. Was this how Crosshair felt? His twin brother, his little brother, pushed by an unseen force to hurt the ones he loved for an unnamed crime?
What if Tech had been the one who's inhibitor chip activated on Bracca?
Notable tags: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Sign Language
Comments: Littleking weaves us a short but sharp 'what if' look into Tech's chip activating on Bracca. We get the wrenching action, but we also get the tender care afterwards, which makes this fic a perfect execution of the hurt/comfort trope. I really enjoyed how Littleking's writing style moulded to the theme of the fic, particularly the second 'comfort' chapter. The inclusion of the Batch's realistic reactions (specifically Hunter) to what happened is the icing on the cake for really enjoying this brief but impactful exploration into an alternative path of action on Bracca.
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Even If We Break by NightOwl1796.
Gen | 2k words | Complete
Summary: [The only sound was the whispering of the waves, carrying on the breeze, sailing into nothingness. And suddenly the infinitely aching realisation that Crosshair would not resurface on his own hit him like a dagger in the chest.]
It is Crosshair's capsule that does not resurface from the Kaminoan waters. This time, Hunter won't leave him behind. Not again.
Notable tags: Drowning
Comments: I really, really love this 'what if' exploration for season 1, episode 16 (Kamino Lost). It's short and sweet, but it does the job for an emotional twist of the knife about Crosshair's motif of being left behind by the Bad Batch. And it does it well, in a song fic, which is themed to Brother by Kodaline. Which I have on all of my Bad Batch playlists. Ouch.
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Carry Us Away by lunarshadow.
Gen | 5.5k words | Complete
Summary: “Echo,” he repeated, “I will not be angry at you for leaving me. It is the only choice we have. And I will not let you die here when you clearly have a way to survive.”
Tech’s grip tightened on Echo’s shoulder, a sincere look in his eyes. Echo had never seen Tech like this. One thing was for sure: he wanted Echo to do this. Losing an ongoing battle to the flood swimming in his eyes, Echo heard his brother whisper one more word.
“Please.”
OR: What happens when Tech and Echo's capsule is the one that remains underwater.
Notable tags: Tech Whump (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Drowning
Comments: This fic is exactly the same as the above fic (a 'what if' for Kamino Lost) but it focuses on Tech instead of Crosshair. And I enjoyed it just the same, just because Lunarshadow paints us a gut wrenching picture while balancing it with some more repetitive Crosshair motifs. It reads beautifully and I can't speak more highly of the imagery. Carry Us Away really did let me think of where we could have been, what with this course of the story for episode 16, and it's somewhere I wouldn't have minded ending up at all.
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if the ocean was whiskey by hellowkatey.
Gen | 5k words | Complete
Summary: If you are reading this, then you must have the unfortunate privilege of encountering my brothers while they are under the influence of alcoholic beverages. First, I begrudgingly apologize on their behalf.
Second, I have rigged this message to be automatically delivered to the comms of those in their vicinity whenever their blood-alcohol levels rise above a level to indicate they are beyond the capacity of rational thought. I hope this guide may offer some helpful tips in the event that they start to escalate any situations, as they are known to do.
Good luck, and I hope to not hear from you tonight. -Tech
Notable tags: Drunken Shenanigans, vignettes of the batch being fools
Comments: This fic is just. So funny. Hellowkatey is an amazing writer, and this fic is an example of her writing ability and range within the numerous genres and fandoms she is a part of. If The Ocean Was Whiskey was a product of our amused musings in an 'out of character' roleplay chat and I will go and re-read it whenever I need to smile a little bit. It explores each of the Bad Batch's reactions to being drunk, and Tech's reactions to each of them throughout their drunken shenengians (as Tech himself abstains from drinking alcohol).
I've lumped it in the 'other' tab as it reads a little like crack!fic, but it's crack only in the sense that it involves drugs and alcohol. You can also check out the associated roleplay thread, Adjustments For Life and Personality (and How It Hurts).
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The World We Once Knew, Gone It Is by AgentMaryMargaretSkitz.
Gen | 77k words | Ongoing (8/? chapters)
Summary: What if it wasn't Crosshair's chip that activated with Order 66?
What if the chip that activated belonged to the leader of the Bad Batch?
What happens then?
Notable tags: Echo's Leadership Era, Imperial Hunter
Comments: I have no idea where to start with Kate and her fic. She has crafted us a beautiful alternate universe that manages to be even more painful than canon, with Crosshair's inhibitor chip activating. She crafts us a universe where the Bad Batch are struggling without their leader, but are coming into their own with the void that Hunter's absence/betrayal has left them. It touches on all of the correct and satisfying emotional notes, including addressing that void, Hunter's fall, and the outcomes of that while having a child in tow. The fic also boasts a storyline for Hunter while he is under the influence of his inhibitor chip, and an interesting one at that, which continues to develop in Kate's ongoing chapters. She has just released chapters 7 & 8.
Please go give her some love for the ongoing work. She deserves all of it, then some, with the innovative and captivating universe she has created. Her writing style leaves you hanging for more, but it makes you read between the lines as well - where Kate generously leaves us plenty of clues for what is going on in her newly-crafted universe. Her ability to have you on the edge of your seat is unparalled. Truly another gift work to the fandom.
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46 notes · View notes
Note
How would FO4 companions react after finding the Jamaica Plain treasure? https://youtu.be/TmLr99nQaUA
They’re walking outside and they notice SS holding a bat they saw in the treasure vault
Some random feral comes in and tries to attack
But SS swing at them and the Feral goes flying about 6 feet, dead.
A moment of silence passes and SS goes with as smirk on their face, “Look like I found the treasure.”
How would they react?
Fun little story: I accidentally stumbled into the backdoor to the treasure on my first playthrough when walking around. I threw the bat on the ground because I thought it was useless. I am stupid.
Anyway, the reacts. Anon set this up pretty well, so I'll just go off that.
Fallout 4 Companions React: The Treasure of Jamaica Plain
Cait: “Ok, I gotta get my hands on that. If I ever saw me parents again, I’d punt them off into the moon. No, the sun. Damn, that thing is incredible! You’re one lucky lass.”
Codsworth: “Keeping your enemies far away was never easier, now was it? Ha ha! I suppose that you’ve been using sir’s old dumbells, have’t you mum? I’m sure you have. Soon, you’ll be a true body builder! A strength champion! A macho muchacho!”
Curie: “Every day, your apparent superhuman abilities become evermore present. Surely you do not expect me to believe that it’s only the bat itself that is causing this spike of power? I suppose that the wasteland never fails to amaze.”
Danse: “Soldier, you may have remnants of that ghoul’s body all over you. You know that standard Brotherhood practice is to use laser weapons, as to turn enemies into ash. This is disgusting, even if mildly impressive. Only mildly impressive, though.”
Deacon: “Ok, now I know it. I’m gonna make Nora action figures. I mean, you’ve got superpowers and a magic baseball bat that can send zombies flying 60 feet away? Who wouldn’t want that? I would’ve played with that toy as a child. We can use the profits to build a second Prydwen. This one will be three inches longer, just to piss Maxson off. Deal?”
Gage: “I don’t even know what to say anymore, boss. It’s not like I have a real personality to draw from and honestly I think that OP is just gonna stop writing me into these reacts all together because, lets be honest, no one would miss me. Anyway that’s a cool bat, I guess.”
Hancock: “Imagine using that thing with a dose of Psychojet. Man, we gotta get down to Diamond City and swing that bat around like it was always intended. A swing and a hit, right on McDonut’s ass.”
Longfellow: “I may have come from an amazing DLC but I’m just not an interesting character. I’m a grandpa, baseball, old world, fog bad, yada yada. Why am I here again? OP never wrote about Ada and I’m maybe 11% more interesting then that sentimental robot.”
MacCready: “You gotta show that off to Duncan. He loves baseball movies, and those are all scripted. Imagine what you could do with thing if you actually had a decent pitcher? Best hitter in history.”
Nick Valentine: “I know it was way after his time, but I’d like to think that Mickey Mantle himself once used that bat. I’d love to meet him in person. We’d drink some Chock Full O’ Nuts and just...chat. Maybe the old world wasn’t so bad.”
Piper: “I keep telling you this, but the next time you’re gonna channel Zeus and Jackie Robinson himself into your weapons, please let me bring the camera! These moments are too precious to leave in our minds. And by precious, I mean FREAKING AWESOME!!!”
Preston: “General! I can’t believe I have to tell you this for the eleventh time! Put down the supernatural wooden stick and go help the Slog! I got a report from a definitely reputable source that the Slog has a Ghoul problem! Go help them! Come on!”
Strong: “Little lady has bat that can hit Ghoul far away. Little Lady is stronger than Strong brother? Stronger than Super Mutant? Strong need to have existential crisis now. Little lady should leave Strong alone to rethink his life.”
X6-88: “How many times do I have to tell Father that even though he wants to pretend like he had a normal life he can’t leave a highly advanced baseball apparatus just lying around. We get it, you are traumatized and wanted a father to play ball with because the cruel reality of 21st century geopolitics denies you this opportunity, but you can’t just let this shit sit around. Not ok.”
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effrvsnt107 · 1 year
Text
Aro headcanons because I feel like ranting:
• Aro washes, he is the only one that washes, he’s clean, the blood on his hands is just a part of him don’t worry about it
• He’s a glorified theatre kid, he adores all creative media but has a strong preference for music and art. He’s a quiet commissioner, if you ever get a commission for anything remotely historical it’s him asking the new receptionist to do it for him
• All vampires have a scent that attracts, but from the amount of vampires and humans he’s killed there’s a lingering smell of death that cannot be washed off.
• Given that he probably smells of Lavender, Cinnamon and a bit of Eucalyptus because of his baths (with a nice toasty warm smell of death along with it)
• He’s ABSOLUTELY listens to Lady Gaga and I’m not kidding I’m sure he does. He’s a Lady Gaga stan
• Aro’s love for Tchaikovsky is unmatched as well, adores him with his 3000 year old unbeating heart
• Him and Jane have some sort of father/daughter connection that was established when Jane was very young in England. I’m sure she knew something was off about him when she caught him spying on her and Alec. Alec was more afraid of him whereas Jane could sense danger but still interacted, and Aro liked that because what’s better than a willing soldier
• Chelsea and Jane have a different dynamic with Aro, both being seen as the most valuable members of the Volturi and with an unmatched connection with Aro. He spoils Chelsea with everything she wants (usually material things) because she is the one keeping half of the coven together, he cannot handle her leaving because of how good she is to him. He spoils Jane in an abundance of affection since Jane is so young that she’s more like his child than his coven mate. She also has an ‘immortal child’ quality to her, she would attract a lot of people if people weren’t scared of her. He doesn’t give af, she’s his chaotic demon baby. His little Renesme.
• Aro and Sulpicia’s love isn’t real, he never perused love he just wanted someone with no strings attached, that’s why he picked and orphan. She doesn’t deserve a goofy man like that anyway
• Specking on that, denial is a river in Egypt, ✨your husband is gay✨
• PRAYS TO THE HEAVENS ABOVE that Carlisle will come back to him, he wants a Las Vegan wedding just to stick it to Esme because Carlisle and Esme had a fancy lovey dovey wedding.
• The night Carlisle and Esme got married was the day he locked himself in his study to read the book they wrote together, got high on garlic or something like “why did my husband leave me, I’m only partially insane”. He left Caius in charge for that day to realise that he burned down 30 villages and caused natural disasters to cover it up.
• He makes the receptionist manicure his nails, they can’t even grow but he doesn’t care, all those creams and wax treatments for his onion skin hands
• Gives good hugs, even if he can read you mind while doing so
That’s about all I’ve got for now
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leonstamatis · 2 years
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wait i have a second one. hello blink my love can you please share your logic behind who is which houses in the sangfielle gideon the ninth au. thank you
hello yes. would you believe this was the hardest part. this was fucking impossible. i’m not sure what i ended up with is GOOD, but let’s get into it.
first house isn’t really here. i didn’t include a teacher character, although my hidden lore is that god/the emperor is dayward yve, a guy who starts out just kind of slightly unlikable and then by the end just sucks. he works well in the role except he’s even less likable than john somehow.
second house is pickman and chantilly. there’s very little logic behind this, honestly, other than “pickman is a soldier very determined to do her work.” chantilly is not a soldier, though, or at least not a very good one. this is not the ideal cohort pair of the books, this is one very good cohort soldier and a cohort necromancer who was mostly sent here so she would stop fucking up everything else the cohort tried to do. they’re here because they are both at least loosely tied to trains and the shape and knighthood, and that is the closest alignment to the cohort. (I did consider chine and the child for this one, but I think pickman and chantilly don’t match up very well with the third house, so here we are!)
the third house! chine and the child/“it.” this is because of the dedication to the course, which typically manifests as beautiful natural scenery much like what we find in some areas of earth, the third planet! i believe I’ve told you this, but cleavers like chine can ascend to become “angels.” and that, to me, is similar to lyctors. but out of the two of them, I think the child is more of a necromancer than chine is? we see it engaging in more adaptational growth as it ages, and chine really likes the poleax. this is very much a “we only have our one child heir, and this cav has protected it since birth even though they’re like forty years older” kind of situation. but they’re third house mostly because chine is green grass and sunlight and water, and the third house is that kind of. excess. in a slightly different way.
the fourth house is lye lychen and fendleton not because they’re good fighters — lyke has proven over and over that he is not — but for the mentality of “rushing in” without any prep or thought. the fourth house is like. fuck around and find out. and that’s lyke, to me.
the fifth house! jolyon and duvall! so jolyon is Duvall’s old friend from school who actually died and was reanimated later by train magic, which is why he’s one of just a couple initial deaths listed in the fic. i picked the two of them for this role because of the fifth’s connection to souls and the afterlife; duvall is searching constantly for what counts as personhood, which ties in nicely with the fifth house, and jolyon continues to exist and have an important part in the story after his death, much like abigail. they fit!
the sixth house is marn, because marn is a researcher and a healer. she writes a thesis based on the events of sangfielle and she abandons the greater mission to protect other people from harm, which is very pal to me. and bucho is here because it’s important to me that marn and bucho stick together. they’re a set. i enjoy them.
virtue mondegreen, i think, is a good sort of counter to what the seventh house is in the books? she’s existed past the point of her own death, which quite literally haunts her, and that is the defining point of her arc. the idea of continuing past your expiration date is something both dulcinea and cytherea talk about at great lengths, so it just. made sense. to put virtue and darling here. sometimes your life is defined by the end of it. sometimes that’s your whole culture, even.
es and syn!!! i know that the books make the eighth house really weird assholes. but the way that their powers kind of work — consuming the soul of your cavalier to make magic, draining the color from your environment — seemed like a really damn good translation for how heritrixes work. es doesn’t have a body in sangfielle. she can’t function without syntyche. and that’s true of eighth house necromancers and cavs, in a way it literally isn’t in any other house. they can’t be separated at all or they lose their strongest assets. it works!!
the ninth house is the bone house. dyre ode is the bone guy. gasteau is his little buddy. it was the second one I thought of, after es and syn.
thank you dear ilyyyyy ilysm !!
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ufleila · 2 years
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hello everybody!! you can call me ellie, and i’m the mun behind leila here! i’ll be at work during acceptances (cries) so this post is queued, but i figured i’d go ahead and introduce myself and leila as well as put down a few initial plot ideas! i’m super excited to be joining, and i’d love to plot with anyone and everyone! a couple of the plots below will have to do with the locations i’ll be submitting to be added to the page at some point tomorrow or this weekend, so if you’d like more info about them before then let me know! if you want to plot, please feel free to like this post and i’ll pop into your dms so we can brainstorm!!
a bit about leila:
she’s the second child of the former margrave of one of the former territories of etlia (astelle, now called calusia.) she fought on the front lines alongside her family in about the last 4-5 years of the war. 
her parents were killed while protecting her in one of the last battles of the war, and leila barely escaped with her life. she basically limped her way around dromare and finally made her way across the river to ganggyn, where she settled under the care of a kind innkeeper on the northern edge of seodal
that innkeeper, cirenne, was a dark mage, and helped leila realize she actually has a bit of an affinity for dark magic, though her class is still archer (for now)
once she had enough savings built up (within the last few months, probably) she set off east, sticking to ganggyn territory for as long as she could until she reached noyillai
since then, she’s mostly been a mercenary or hunter for hire as she gathers information about sarlimar’s school of sorcery as well as the current state of what used to be etlia
her eventual goal is to help organize a rebellion to free etlia from gleerium’s control, but frankly she has zero clue how to do this and is pretty much flying by the seat of her pants. this goal is also a secret -- as of now she hasn’t told anyone about her eventual plans, since she doesn’t want to make herself into a target
some plot ideas!
anyone from etlia! were you a noble? a solider? a commoner? you’ve probably at least heard of leila’s family, and if you lived in astelle you may have even known her personally! she wants to reconnect with fellow etlians really bad tbh, she still feels a responsibility towards them as a leader (even if she never took the title of margrave, she’s always been trained for it since she was second in line)
fellow mercenaries/hunters/soldiers -- maybe you were on a job together and hit it off, or maybe you just kept butting heads -- leila can be pretty stubborn sometimes. maybe you and leila were on jobs that directly opposed each other; one of you could’ve been hired to protect someone while the other was hired to kill them, etc. or you could just be rivals in any other sense!
students at lotus academy or others who are based in noyillai -- leila moves between noyillai, podakko, and zoratori a lot, but she probably ends up in noyillai the most often, since it usually has the most news about what’s happening in the west. 
anyone from gleerium or who sympathizes with them -- she honestly will probably hate you on sight. that could be a very cool dynamic to work with!! maybe she actually likes you at first and then finds out you’re from gleerium and does an about-face and suddenly hates you and doesn’t trust you. she doesn’t advertise her etlian heritage to anyone except other etlians, so you may not even know Why she suddenly doesn’t like you. there’s all kinds of potential there!
if you lived in seodal/northwestern ganggyn near the end of the war, maybe you knew the innkeeper who took leila in? the innkeeper herself will be an npc, but the inn will be an open location so anyone could have been a regular patron or employee there, or just someone who lived nearby at the time and witnessed leila show up as a refugee and possibly watched as she slowly started to recover from the trauma of the war.
if none of these strike your fancy then i’m definitely open to brainstorming anything, as well!
wanted connections -- these would require a whole new character to be built from the ground up based on what i have written for leila’s backstory, but i’ve kept most things flexible and am willing to work with anyone who’s interested!
leila’s older brother - i have a lot written about him already, but any or all of it can be changed for the sake of your muse. she definitely thinks he’s dead, so i would LOVE to have someone join as him so we can write about their reunion and everything!
the current duke of calusia - this is the person who’s taken over leila’s homeland, who now lives in her childhood home, and who has “stolen” (in her mind) her father’s lance, which is an heirloom passed down in her family for generations. needless to say, leila despises this person. would definitely be cool to have in the rp!
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mysteriawrites · 10 months
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hi, can i be matched with harry potter and attack on titan please? my name's lilith i'm 18, my pronouns are she/they and i'm a queerplatonic aroace, so i don't have a gender preference. i'm a stubborn, kinda bossy, brutally honest, sarcastic, clingy and person. people say i'm mature, smart and creative and yes, i agree, but i think i become a total different person when i get too comfortable. i love music and i've been singing with a vocal coach for three years by now. i like spending time at my music academy in which all the members are my second family as i grew up with my blood-related relatives fighting each others for some kind of stuff i don't know about (thank god things recently changed a little bit). i lost my grandmothers in law, my cousin abandoned me for protection as she had brain cancer and died eight months later and my dad due skin cancer. i also recently got a trauma for moving in a new house, i was actually excited at the beginning, but really it's driving me crazy. i'm 5'11", chubby, pale skin, button nose, i wear a fake septum piercing sometimes (i'm allergic to real ones :/), black slowly turning back to brown hair with undercut and bangs, dark hazelnut brown eyes and i wear black glasses. i also wear a tattoo choker and a necklace with a note shaped charm (gift from a dear friend) and i never take it off since then. i was actually scared to wear necklaces to sleep, fearing i would suffocate or accidentally hang myself, but with her necklace, i have no fear to sleep in it, actually when i have anxiety or panic attacks, i hold it so tight to remind myself she's with me, always. my aesthetic is hipster or grunge. i think that's enough. bye!!
Hello Hello thank you for the request. Oh sweet summer baby child I'm so sorry you had to go through that. I hope this matchup can bring you a bit of happiness (P.s. I only can do one fandom per request so if you could send in a second ask with the same info but for Harry Potter that would be great) (P.s.s. wasn't 100% clear on if you wanted this platonic or not but I wrote it platonic anyway so if you wanted it romantic lemme know and I’ll change it) Alright drumroll please!!!
🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁
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LEVI ACKERMEN!!!
Oh boy you two have been through a lot. From the loss of family to being forced to grow up from a young age in order to survive. Because of that shared trauma it makes it easier for you to get close to someone as prickly as Levi cause he sees a bit of himself in you.
You two have been friends since you both joined the scouts, slowly growing closer after many a life or death situation and being able to have each other’s back in battle. You’re both remarkably strong soldiers (what doesn’t kill you make you stronger as they say) and have been able to make you way to the top as captain and second command of the Levi squad.
Ever since then you’ve come to have your own little found family among the scouts (Hange being the crazy drunk aunt and Erwin being the dad). Although Levi is a still his unapologetically blunt self (to put it nicely) you know he loves everyone just as much as you do. The 4 of you have one of the best dynamics among the squads.
That’s why when you and Levi are the sole survivors of the Levi squad your world is completely shattered. No matter how hard you tried to protect everyone or how close you tried to keep them to you it seems like everyone in your life is destined to leave, but not Levi.
Levi is with you through thick and thin. From the fall of Wall Maria to the discovery of titan shifters to the learning of titans in the wall to learning your allies were traitors to being fugitives to finding that you’ve been killing humans to finally making it to the sea to Erwin and Hange’s deaths (i haven’t seen season 4 sorry) you two stick together through it all.
When things get dark you and Levi will sit and silence and drink your tea reminiscing on the memories of your fallen comrades. Sometimes Levi needs someone to pick him up despite trying to be strong and emotionless all the time and you have to remind him it’s ok to feel.
Despite being pretty hard on others yourself and others, you try to convince to be a little softer on the cadets. After having been through all they have you want them to enjoy being kids forever long they have. You two are the parents of the scouts especially after Ewin passes.
You two always look out for each other in battle while not letting your own feeling get in the way or the mission…at least until the war is over
You two are each other’s safe heaven. You look out for yourselves and each other in your own ways, and don’t plan to go dying on the other. After both losing someone you don’t want to make the other go through that pain again.
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Sorry this is short I'm now realizing I need to do more research on aot characters. Oh well lesson learned hope you enjoy anyway.
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