#not serving a mission is one of the best choices I've made right up with not going to BYU lmao

[nerdygaymormon]

Hi, I'm a young queer mormon living in Utah who finished their first year of college and decided halfway through after lots of prompting that I should serve a mission. The choice brought so much joy into my life and reconnected me with the church, my family, my beliefs, and my self. I felt really lost and unfulfilled at school, and the decision to put my schooling on hold for the next two years or so and bring the joy I felt from the gospel to more of God's children has felt so right every step of the way. I've have my call since March now, and I leave in a couple weeks.

But this new church announcement (the transgender policies) has absolutely shaken me. Obviously from a young age I have struggled with the church's stance on queer identities, and many more aspects. But my heart always felt that Christ cared not about these things and wanted only for us to try and be better and accept his atonement into our life. I also felt like the community of a ward or a church was one of the best parts of the gospel, and so many people need it and could benefit from it even if they did not wish to or choose to carry out sacred ordinances or covenants.

But this handbook change has made me feel like that's not true anymore. How can I stand for and represent a church that is directly excluding and prejudiced against my transgender friends? How am I supposed to tell other families and individuals to come to church when I myself can't even seem to grapple with what it stands for right now? I'm really struggling, I don't know if I should cancel my mission or push through in the hopes that more understanding will come through acting in faith. While every step of this process has brought me closer to myself and my family and brought me a lot of clarity in a confusing time, I feel that right now God is giving me a choice. I listened to Him with full faith and put in my papers and put my school on hold, but now I feel like he's telling me to choose for myself what to do next. And I have no idea what to do.

I'm lucky enough to have parents who will support my decision either way and who are also furious at the handbook change, but that doesn't take away the issues that choosing not to serve a mission brings. All the ward members who will be informed about it, all the explaining I'll have to do. If I don't go, I wish to instead use my mission funds to pay for a humanitarian trip to a place near the mission I was called, so I can still dedicate my time to bringing help to God's children, but I'm already so far in my mission process and I know there is a reason I was prompted to do all of this. But I'm so stuck.

Any advice?

Thank you for sharing all this.

I was just telling a friend that I think God's way is to have us make our own choices, especially the bigger the decision. Sometimes there's times like where you got the prompting to serve a mission, but it's still your choice. Often those promptings are making us aware there is another path available to us, perhaps one we weren't aware might be a good choice for us. However, most of the time God doesn't prompt us what to do, we have to study it out and then pray about the choice we made and ask God to affirm.

I think this way we own the decision. If we marry someone, we have to put in the work to make it a successful relationship and not just assume it will all work out because God said to do it. And when things don't go perfectly, if God told us what to do then we would blame God when it's us who messed things up.

I can see that the prompting you received helped you take a step back from a situation you were in (college) that maybe wasn't the right time for you, and get closer to the Lord. This gave you a firmer spiritual foundation on which to stand when these Handbook changes were announced.

My advice is to not ignore your feelings. If something bothers your conscience, pay attention to that.

Another piece of advice is to think about how you want to serve. A humanitarian mission perhaps is the mission you were being prompted towards, you are in a position now to make that choice because of the decisions you made based on the prompting you received. You can make a list of pros & cons, and as you think about what these different experiences will be like, the proselyting mission or the humanitarian mission, pay attention to which one brings you a sense of peace?

The Spirit is accompanied by feelings, think about how you feel when you're getting a prompting or feel that something is the right direction to go. Keep in mind those feelings when you pray about whichever decision you make.

I admire your desire to serve and to stand for goodness, and I commiserate with you in regards to these steps our church has announced.

[buds-and-baubles]

the origins of apollo and midnighter

for anyone out there who has wanted to know what their original backstory was before dc had changed it to them being kids who were abducted by aliens and were experimented on to recieve their powers, you've come to the right place! let's get right into it. (spoilers for stormwatch vol.2 issues #4-6)

apollo and m were described as former U.S soldiers who served on a superhuman black ops team created by weatherman henry bendix called stormwatch zero, which is a subdivision of stormwatch. stormwatch for the record is a united nations created "crisis intervention unit". stormwatch zero was so secret that the rest of stormwatch didn't know it existed.

apollo served as the leader of stormwatch zero, which are very much influenced by the justice league if you take a look at the team roster. they were described before this as "normal humans" who were bioengineered/built as superhuman. odd wording at the end, right? also what happened their teammates? why have them labeled rogue?

we are first introduced to the team all naked, told to get on their uniforms. apollo expresses confusion at not knowing where they are, which isn't answered. m doesn't get why bendix is leaving them in the dark, which bendix replies that it's a "proving mission" in which he defined the parameters.

now why would they not know where they are or wake up naked, i wonder? what does he mean by proving mission? is there a catch to their powers? yes.

uniforms given out and code names assigned, you no longer have your names nor exist (also questionable if they had a choice). most of his phrasing sounds like.. a dirtbag father honestly. it's weird.

this strike team was sent off on their first mission to go to a mysterious facility in the desert to steal information and cripple illegal development committed by a 'rogue state'. in reality, bendix sent them to steal a bio-reactor extrapolated from alien (daemonite) technology that served as a benign advance in medical technology made by americans.

however, the bio-reactor defended itself by annihilating everyone but apollo and midnighter. when they tried to teleport away, they couldn't. bendix deactivated their portal devices and left them for dead for failing their mission. the worst part? it was rigged against them.

apollo and m managed to escape from the facility and learn of bendix's treachery. rather than fight, they decide (or really have no choice but) to stay quiet and anonymously went on to fight for a better world under the radar. they're in hiding for five years in various places, the last being them living on the streets of san francisco.

after this point is when the stormwatch plot kicks off where they discover weapons which use human brains in their design. these guns are connected to a utopia-like place called nevada garden. stormwatch was already looking not just into the two of them but also this garden, and catch them before they can go after the garden by trapping them on stormwatch's space tower. they learn here that bendix is dead by another member of stormwatch and after some convincing on the grounds of fighting for a better world, they help.

the garden is destroyed with their assistance, and when asked what they want, apollo and m answer with this; "when we took on our codenames and uniforms, our real names and lives were deleted. we want them back." the new weatherman named jackson king instead says he will give them comfortable and protected new lives away from stormwatch as best as he can manage.

here's a thought of mine that's bugging me: bendix is a proven lying madman who hacked the nsa and had to be killed by one of his own. he could've lied about apollo and midnighter's origins. nobody could disagree with him.

you could argue their origin for being young adult soldiers is true and just destroyed by bendix very well, or.. worse. i've seen some people suspect them to be sent and experimented on as kids to then go through training as soldiers. i have another thought that a fanfiction i read brought on; they were created in a lab test tube. why?

they have no 'real' name, apollo and midnighter are their names. they were described as being bioengineered or built by bendix. they wake up confused and naked. they are given their uniforms and codenames, their old lives and names deleted. but what if they never had old lives or names?

what if they were grown to adulthood with their abilities created and training implanted before they woke up? you could also say they were test tube children who grew up and trained as soldiers, also. however, i'm more inclined for the first option as the naked panel supports that.

if you've read for jay nakamura, you'll have recognized the name henry bendix. he is who experimented on jay, who was a child. who is to say he didn't do this back in wildstorm? he could've kidnapped kids or make test tube children/adults. hell, this guy could probably make a clone easily.

so in the end, we'll never know the whole truth of their origin. they'll never remember because the memory wipe, there's no files about their old lives or names, and bendix would never tell whether dead or alive. they don't know how old they are, what their birthday is, nothing. they could've been born adults who never even had a chance to be a child.

thanks for listening in! i know it's a lot but once i started, i couldn't stop. this fucks with me though. could apollo and m really be test tube grown superhumans like superboy?

[cam-ryt]

A little fandom crossover but I've been obsessed with the concept of Warlock Darth Vader and Fae Obi-Wan who fall in love with each other 👀 

It's Sunday prompt day !! 🥳

I'm so excited about this new concept and I received very interesting prompts to write about, I can't wait to post them all !

This one was the first I wrote about, thank you for sending it, it gave me so many ideas, I got a little carried away aha. I couldn't write the whole falling in love process or I had to write a whole fic but I hope you'll still enjoy it !! 💕

TW : mention of heavily scarred body (kinda suitless Vader)

___________

When Vader first sets foot on Aldhani, he immediately feels like the atmosphere is different than any other planet he’d ever landed on. And he has visited a lot, conquered a lot.

This one would make no exception.

Stepping off the metallic bridge of his ship, he presses the sole of his boots on the wet ground, tall grass lazily dancing in the wind around his legs.

The view is breathtaking, a soothing break in the dark turmoils of the war.

Framing the valley in which he landed are mountains, rising high enough to be crowned by the clouds. The early morning light is painting them in shades of orange and the only sounds he can hear are the singing of the birds, the light breeze playing with his hair and his own breathing, loud and unnatural.

Closing his eyes, he lets his mind wander, searching for any living presence in the area.

It’s an easy mission, the population being mainly made up of farmers and religious people, none of them bearing any kind of power. That's why he came alone, on the orders of his master, counting on his magic and lightsaber alone to convince them to join the Empire.

When he’s done scanning his surroundings for any advanced intelligent form - he hasn’t found any - he decides that his best chance is to leave his ship behind and to follow the river deeper in the valley until he finds a village.

Before leaving, he decides to change his heavy suit and coat for something lighter and more practical. He adjusts the lightsaber to his tunic belt, wraps himself in a long dark cape and checks that his portable oxygenator is fully charged. Once he’s done making sure it’s carefully strapped to his mouth and nose and working fine, converting the right amount of air into his oxygen needs, he grabs his traveling bag and heads to the river.

The walk is pretty gentle on his mechanic joints, far more comfortable than walking on the rough stone banks of Mustafar or worst, in the sand. Here he doesn’t even think about his next steps as he strolls along the riverside, leaving space for his head to think and his senses to explore.

The Force is strong in here, almost palpable, pure life energy flowing into every being, from the smallest flower to the highest mountain. It’s neither good nor bad he realises. It’s nothing and it’s everything at the same time. It doesn’t care about the war, it doesn’t care about politics, about pain and hope. It exists only to serve a purpose : giving life and keeping the gears of the universe turning.

The thought keeps him wondering for a while.

The sun is high when he’s confronted to a choice. He's deep down in the bottom of the valley and in front of him the river is sinking between trees marking the edges of a forest. He can continue following it or try to avoid the woods in which he might get lost.

He hesitates for a second, deciding to rely on his instincts. The call of the forest is strong, as if the Force is even denser here, flowing through the sap of the old trees and impregnating the very ground. He can almost feel it buzzing around him.

So he follows it.

The cover of the trees is welcomed as the sun starts to hit harder in the middle of the day. He has dropped the cape and rolled up his sleeves, exposing one delicately crafted mechanic arm, the other one being only torn flesh and burned skin. Still functional but painful and unsightly. He doesn't really care, he has learned how to wield his lightsaber with his other hand.

The scars on his body and face are another thing, though. They make him suffer every minute, a painful reminder of what he had to endure to become as powerful as he is today. They took away any sense of comfort he had taken for granted for too long, forcing him to rely on a machine to draw breath after breath and keep himself alive. They also took away the privilege of being perceived as “normal” in other people eyes, not that he seeks any kind of contact with any kind of people, but some looks still hurt, even years later.

He's on the edge of the slippery path to self-loathing when something makes him stops right in his tracks. A feeling.

Looking around, he realises that the river has given life to the beginning of a lake. From where he is, he can see it entirely ; a calm body of water enclosed by ancient trees, their reddish foliage reflecting in the water like a mirror.

For a moment he just stays there, staring at the gorgeous sight. It looks like a dream.

Light pierces through the branches, illuminating the myriad of insects flying over the surface of the lake, diving through the shades of blue to highlight the silver scales of the fish hiding in the shadows.

The Force is so thick in here, bathing every creature in vital energy, he can taste it on the back of his tongue.

And then he realises why he had stopped in the first place. He had felt something. Something bigger than the frogs and the deers wandering around. Something with a consciousness so vast and complex he wonders why he’s only feeling it just now.

It is there, right in the middle of the lake.

Someone.

Vader’s heart misses a beat as he crouches down behind the trunk of an elder tree.

There’s a creature immerged in the deep waters, swimming gracefully between the water lilies. A man, as far as he can tell. The sun, where it pierces through the leaves, is kissing his pale skin and making his wet hair look like a flaming crown.

Vader’s eyes are stuck to his silhouette, and the time seems to stretch out as he follows him slowly getting back to the bank.

And then the man climbs out of the water and he doesn’t know if he’s chocked out by the fact that he’s completely naked or if it’s because of the pair of wings sticking out of his back. His face still heats up all the same.

Saying that this creature is the most beautiful person he’s layed his eyes on is an understatement.

He’s gorgeous, droplets of water running down his skin like little beads of light, bronze hair sticking on the back of his neck, his body lean and strong.

And there’s the wings. Vader still has a hard time believing his own eyes.

They’re tall, rising up a few inches above his head and falling to his bare feet, where he notices a bracelet around one of his ankles.

They look incredibly thin and fragile, for they’re mostly transparent. But when they're playing with the light, they’re suddenly painted in a million color, like a diamond in a beam. He’s never seen something like that before, it’s hypnotizing.

Just when he leans a bit closer on the tree, his scarred hand rips on the bark and he loses his balance, putting a knee on the ground with a loud thud, and the echo of the sound seems to ripple in the Force.

Immediately the man turns his head in his direction, scrutinizing the shadows where he hides.

“Who’s there ?” He asks warily, swiftly picking up a piece of clothes on the ground and putting it on.

Vader feels a tingle of regret when the beige tunic drapes almost all of his body, covering his arms and falling just above his knees. He watches him tighten it at the waist with another blue piece of fabric, and feels his cheeks burning up again when the man picks up a thinner leather belt that he fixes around his thigh, lifting the tunic in the process. He notices the dagger in the sheath just before the piece of clothes falls back again, hiding the pretty thigh and the weapon with it. He’s so fascinated by the whole sight that he needs a second to realise that the wings are gone.

“I can feel you.” The man says again, and this time he’s moving in his direction. “Show yourself.”

Vader can understand what he says without any problems. His accent informs him that he’s probably not a native from this planet.

He weights his choices for a while. The stranger doesn't seem to be dangerous, and his weapon is no match again his lightsaber. Maybe he can even lead him to the nearest village.

He steps out of the shadow of the tree with his hands up, showing no sign of hostily.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The man stops in his tracks and his eyes widen when they land on Vader’s face, his lips parting in a horrified grimace.

Vader is used to that kind of reaction, but he can’t help feeling sharply self-conscious about his looks under the creature's gaze. It almost makes him want to hide under his hood.

They stare at each other for a long while, none of them daring to move or to speak. Vader feels like the stranger’s eyes are piercing right through him, dissecting every one of his scars, reading every bad decisions leading to them like an open book. He has to force himself not to squirm under his gaze.

Then the man takes a step closer, reducing the distance between them from another meter. From where he stands Vader can see his face better, he can tell that his eyes are the same color as the lake, fierce and suspicious, or that he looks like he’s in his late thirties. His skin seems as soft as his own is damaged, studded with a galaxy of freckles on his nose and cheeks. A beard is framing his perfect face, sharing bronze and golden hues with the hair falling on his shoulders.

He looks like the Sun personified and Vader cannot take his eyes of him.

“Who are you, stranger ?” The man asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “State your name and business.”

His voice is firmer and colder, but it still sounds like music to Vader’s ears. He sees his hand getting closer to his thigh when he doesn’t answer and decides to speak then.

“I think I’m lost.” He half lies. “My ship crashed half a day of walk from here and I’m looking for the nearest village to repair it.”

The man raises an eyebrow and takes another careful step closer.

“I heard no such thing as the crash of a ship. And you didn’t tell me your name.”

“Is it really that imp-”

Vader cannot end his sentence that a root breaks out from the soil and wraps itself around his legs, pinning him to the ground and growing bigger by the second, curling up around his waist and pressing his arms to his side like one of those snakes he saw once in an archive. The pressure is strong enough to immobilize him but it feels like they could break his bones at any moment. When they reach his throat, the instinctive rush of magic flowing through his body makes his skin tingle, ready to be used at full power to defend himself.

“I can feel the darkness in you.” The man growls.

His dagger is in his hand now, and there’s something irradiating from him in the Force. It takes Vader a second to understand that he’s also using some kind of magic to control the roots. It makes him re-evaluate the situation and his opponent.

“Alright.” He says, struggling as one of the roots wraps itself tighter around his throat. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The man frowns and slides in front of him, close enough for Vader to see every details of his face, like the little mole under his right eye or the pink shade of his lips, twisted in an upset line.

“What are you ?” He enquires, making no move to ease the pressure on the other’s body.

“I’m- I'm a warlock.” Vader decides to reveal. It’s a half-truth, but the stranger doesn't need to know more. He doesn’t need too convinced, though.

“Liar.” He hisses a few inches from his face and Vader can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on as his self-preservation instinct begins to doubt whether he's the predator in this situation. “You reek of the dark side. Why are you here ?”

As he asks questions, the man grabs the sides of his cape and pulls them apart to search him. It doesn’t take long until he finds his lightsaber, that he takes with a disgusted look on his face.

“You’re a Sith.” He growls, narrowing his eyes to look at him more closely, hostility clearly written on his features. “You’re siding with the Empire. You’re here to enslave us.”

Vader doesn’t deny it, there’s no use.

“Don’t kill me.” He just asks softly, and he doesn't even have a good excuse to add.

“And why would I let you live ?” The man snarls. “When you come here bringing chaos, pain and destruction ?”

He takes a step back suddenly, looking around in alert.

“Are there others like you ?”

“I came alone.” Vader replies, he had stopped struggling and the roots had stopped tightening, making it uncomfortable but not impossible to breathe. “I swear.”

“Why should I trust you ?” The man asks again, crossing his arms against his chest.

“I’ll let you read in my mind.” Vader says. “You’ll see I'm telling the truth.”

It’s a risky move. He doesn’t know how powerful the stranger is, and he already made the mistake of underestimating him once. But he doesn't want to engage in a fight.

The man gives him a suspicious look. He has no reason to trust him, but he seems conflicted. Vader can almost hear his thoughts. He’s not sure he’s strong enough to kill him if he tried, but he doesn't want to put his village in danger by bringing him there as a prisoner. It’s a dead end. Maybe he can offer a solution.

“I could… Tell the Empire that I found no-one here.” He says carefully. “That you already fled to another system to seek the help of the rebellion.”

The man's eyebrows shot up at his words.

“And why exactly would you do that ?”

“It would be a waste to destroy a planet like that. Where the Force is so strong and balanced.” Vader replies, and then coughs as his oxygenator finally has a hard time providing enough oxygen in his state.

The man observes him for a while, pondering.

“So you’ll just fly back to your emperor and lie to his face for the sake of one planet out of the hundreds you probably already doomed ? This is absurd.”

“This- This planet is no use for the Empire.” Vader says and, oh, black dots are dancing around his vision now. “I- I can’t breathe.”

He sees the man straighten, peering at him to evaluate if he’s trying to fool him or if he’s really in distress.

That’s when his legs give way under his weight that he has a glimpse of the stranger rushing to him before everything goes black.

When he comes back to his senses, he’s lying on his back on a pile of soft leaves, under the cover of what looks like a weeping willow. It takes a second for his brain to kick in, and when it does his first reflex is to get up. That’s when he realizes that his hands are tied in front of him, and that he’s not alone.

“I thought you were dead for a while.” The man sitting a few meters away from him says.

He’s building a fire camp with dry wood and terse grass. He added another layer on his shoulders and Vader shivers when the chill air of the evening slips under his thin tunic. He must have blacked out for a few hours. Without thinking, he closes his eyes and concentrates on the fire camp. A second later, a spark ignites in his center and flames start to consume the dry wood.

He can’t help but smirk when he hears the man gasp at his little trick.

“What-”

“Relax.” He says, slowly sitting up on the ground. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just cold.”

The stranger makes a face but doesn’t reply. Instead he picks up his dagger and starts to peel some edible roots piled up by his side.

Vader watches him in silence for a while. He’s still as fascinated by the stranger. He wants to know more about him. About his story.

“What’s your name ?” He finally asks, trying to find a more comfortable position for his metallic joints. At least his oxygenator is working fine again.

The man raises his head in his direction, his blue eyes staring at him with a mix of curiosity and defiance.

“You didn’t tell me yours.”

“Ah, fair enough.” Vader replies with a light smile. He hesitates for a millisecond. “Anakin. My name is Anakin.”

“Anakin.” The man repeats, and it’s strange to hear it in the mouth of someone else. To hear it again after such a long time. Maybe it’s not as dead as he thought. “I’m Obi-Wan.”

Vader thinks that it’s a beautiful name for a beautiful man he met on a beautiful planet.

Now he doesn’t have to get back to the emperor just yet, does he ? He can take a few days away from the war, from the horrors and the pain. He can pretend that he’s not a monster for a while. He can bathe in the beauty and the calm of this planet, let it heal him even if he doesn’t deserve it. The best he can do is to avoid corrupting it.

“Obi-Wan.” He tastes the name on his tongue and decides that he likes it. “Tell me more about you.”

[puckish-rogue]

I will forever be endlessly fascinated by the way Julius decides to pin everything that happened by the end of the first game entirely on the Boss. Like ignoring the various plot points that were more or less dropped in the sequel, it's kind of amazing how the man seemingly refused to take any accountability for what the Saints had started to turn into during their first iteration. For a man who was the founder and leader of the gang it sure seems like the kid he saved on the street was the real MASTERMIND behind everything.

To paraphrase a post I read that led me to think about this in the first place; people have a tendency to take what Julius said at face value. They just willingly accept the idea that the Boss was just "always like that" and Julius was not only justified in putting them into a coma, but able to see their true colors. But I highly doubt that. I mean, if you pay close enough attention to the first game, there's plenty of material that can lead you to believe that whatever "good intentions" he may have had in forming the Saints to being with was misguided at best and self-serving at worst.

Whatever "valid" reasons he may have had in dropping his flags with the VK's means jack shit as soon as you realize two things during a mission with his former friend/former leader of the VK's Ben King; the first is that Julius lies to everyone's face about coming from the Row, as he originally hailed from the neighborhood of Sunnyvale. The second is that the speech he gives towards the Saints is a direct copy of one Ben had given. Julius wants the same kind of power his best friend had. He wants the recognition, the respect, and everything that comes with running the biggest and baddest gang in the city.

With my specific portrayal of the Boss I've always said that before joining the Saints there was just something fundamentally wrong with him. Something that had been brewing for years and was finally able to be released by the time he wound up in the gang, acting as a sort of catalyst. Does this mean Julius was right all along? Maybe to an extent. But in no way can I say he was justified entirely. Because for a man who seemingly regrets the way things turned out, he sure as hell seemed pretty fine with everything the gang had done prior to his arrest. I mean shit, even the death of one of his lieutenants was met with a "she knew the risks of this life".

And it's not only that, but I can only imagine that the fallout from disbanding the Saints was pretty fucking bad. People getting arrested, murdered, and who the hell knows what else. Not to mention the large power vacuum that was ultimately filled up by three new gangs during those five years. Everything had basically gone to shit just so Julius could save his own ass.

Which brings me back to the Boss. Or I suppose Django to be specific. Make no mistake, I don't excuse anything he or the gang does. For all the ways in which I make him likeable there is no changing the fact that he is a villain protagonist through and through. But that's not going to prevent me from talking about frankly ridiculous it is that Julius could have the audacity to blame everything on him. That he could so easily try and assassinate his golden boy via explosives all because he saw him as both an ultimate evil and expendable.

I'm sure the man's had moments where he questions what he's done. Where he wonders if he made the right choice. And I know for sure that at least in my interpretation of the series and what I consider canon on here, Julius will convince himself time and time again that he was correct. That it had to be done. That the kid needed to go. It's fine. He's fine. It's all over now. There will come a day where the ghosts of his past will stop haunting him, and he can finally get that peaceful night of sleep he's desired for so long now.

Unfortunately for him some spirits are just that restless.

[spitzobsessed]

Warning for little swearing, ooc and possible spoilers.

This is a spur of the moment fic, best described as a "what if scenario" one'd think of in the shower. Because I love my Agent and he deserves to fight the Republic in every way possible.

Bear in mind that I've never played past Coruscant of the Trooper story. So of course this fic is set on the first planet, and the spoilers refer to the end of Ord Mantell planet arc for Trooper. Oh yes, this has nothing to do with Agent's story.

aand im rambling, sorry, sorry

___________

That was it. The end. Some few minutes left to accept what they'd done.

They were no longer Republic soldiers and in less than an hour they will no longer be in Republic space.

Commander Harron Tavus battled his doubts in silence, not letting anything to show on his face. After all, there was no turning back now. The team seemed to be having a better time dealing with their choice.

Commander however.... Loyalty turned out to be a trickier bitch than he thought. And back when everything was clear his loyalties were clear. They haven't changed, not really. He had a Squad to keep alive and a Republic to serve. But if the choice was between his Havoc and some bastards issuing orders from the safety of Coruscant, he knew who came first.

If the Republic deemed the Havoc unimportant enough to just leave them to die, well, the Havoc would treat the Republic appropriately.

At least the Imperial officer was smart enough to keep his expression neutral. Had the fascist scum tried to gloat, Harron would not be held responsible for his actions.

...

The shuttle was ready to be boarded when the guards shouted. In a moment over two dozen blaster rifles were aimed squarely at the intruder's chest. Commander heard Fuse swear under their breath. He agreed with them. Walking right up to them, as if oblivious to all the weapons trained on him, was the newest addition to Havoc. Sergeant Aaden Challe had a complicated expression. He stopped right in front of Harron and Imperial officer, after making a show of looking around at everyone gathered. He pointedly let his gaze linger on the warhead stripped to the shuttle.

He was a dead man for coming here.

Harron felt cold at the realisation. He had no choice but to kill the new guy now, for there was no other way. He did prove to be quite patriotic. That was why Harron ordered him to stay at the base.

Why was he here?

"You should not be here,"

"You went silent. Base Command feared you were dead,"

It would be better if they were right.

Commander looked at Sergeant. There was steel in the other man's eyes. They both knew what had to happen.

Imperial officer seemed to miss how tense the situation was becoming:

"Deal with the intruder, Commander Tavus. We're on a tight schedule."

Soldiers around them did not lower their rifles. But this was a chance to keep the stupid boy alive. He will be in trouble afterwards but at least he would be alive.

"This has nothing to do with you. You should have stayed at base."

"You're defecting from the Republic. And what's this, a passage fee?" - Sergeant Challe nodded at the warhead. - "What, you think the Empire will welcome you just like this?"

Havoc tensed. They knew that warhead was their ticket to freedom. The Empire would not accept them otherwise, and that admiral had wanted the weapon badly enough to negotiate their future.

Harron saw Wraith inch closer to Challe, syringe ready in hand. Sedative, probably, she kind of liked the guy.

Just keep his attention on me.

"The Republic doesn't care about us. During a mission to Ando Prime, they simply left us to die. I have no intention of letting that happen again."

Challe twitched an eyebrow, as if forcing himself remain impassive.

One more step.

"You have a future with them. We made our choice."

Wraith lunged at Challe, and some of the soldiers startled. Which was a mistake because blaster shots were fired and as Harron with the rest of Havoc took cover to return fire, they barely noticed Sergeant catch the woman and pin her down, all in a fraction of a moment.

"Halt!"

In the following silence the adrenaline rush felt overwhelming.

Harron took in the situation: imperial officer stood proud while the rest took cover.

He turned to the Sergeant:

"Trooper. Surrender now or be executed."

The man in question sat still for a moment, holding Wraith's hands. Then, slowly, he let go of her, and put his hands up. The Officer motioned to his men and a pair immediately put away their weapons and rushed to the surrendered man. They confiscated his weapons and handcuffed him. Wraith stood up and walked toward the rest of Havoc.

It felt surreal to watch the Imperials herd - prisoner now- Challe into the shuttle while their officer simply watched. He then faced Harron:

"This concludes our business on Ord Mantel."

The man then gestured for the Havoc to board the shuttle. And so they did. Some of the soldiers followed them inside, and lastly the officer and his escort came in.

...

The atmosphere astonishingly was equally grim and awkward. At least, among the Havoc Squad.

Harron could see it in the others' gazes that they were.. worried. For the new guy, most likely, and what would become of him, and more importantly, what would the admiral do about the uncounted for Republic soldier.

The flight off Ord Mantell and from the system was not long. It felt like an eternity still.

...

Half an hour later and the telltale shudder of exiting hyperspace went through the shuttle. The grand finale, thought Harron, as the Imperials began preparing to disembark.

Then, their shuttle entered the docking bay of an Imperial Destroyer, and landed, and everything grew still in waiting.

The entrance opened and Harron was politely led out and onto the deck of the bigger ship. He noticed the others being led out similarly and as he took in the bay he understood why. There, in all his imperial glory stood the admiral who would accept their defection and the "passage fee". Harron stood in parade rest, about to greet the man, when behind him Sergeant was led out as well.

Harron did his best not to react as Challe was led forward, unarmed and hands bound. For such a dire situation, the younger man held himself surprisingly well.

"Release him."

What.

Harron did look around that time, but the Admiral's attention was squarely on Challe. Who was now rubbing his wrists.

"I do appreciate that, Admiral."

"Hm. We'll talk later. Adjutant, show the good man the guest cabin." - an inconspicuous man walked up and quietly instructed Challe to follow. - "Now, to tha matter of the former Havoc Squad-"

"What's going on?!" - who would- Ah, Gearbox, the one to meet and insist on the safety of their addition, was known to care about young soldiers under his command. - "Why are you taking Sergeant Challe? Where are you taking him? Wh-"

"I believe you have no authority to interrupt your superiors," - the Admiral spoke over Gearbox, sounding both annoyed and disgusted.

"Sergeant Challe is no threat, he was not supposed to even be here," - Harron tried to sound nonchalant. The situation made little sense.

"And I have no value as a prisoner nor do I possess any valuable information?" - Challe stopped half the hangar away from the group. He did not sound upset or accusatory, no, but something in his voice- "Commander Harron, are you trying to dig my grave?"

Sergeant turned to face them and those words-

He was mocking them.

Laughing at him.

"Cipher Ten, I can handle this. Thank you for your aid with the mission," - the Admiral dismissed Challe and started telling something to him but Harron heard nothing. Cipher. Cipher agent of the Imperial Intelligence. The most dreaded tool of the Empire apart from Sith. Challe was- No, no, that couldn't be.

"Is that true?" - Fuse sounded breathless, and this time Harron was certain that feeling of being hit in the gut was a shared experience. - "Were you- "

"Were you sent to spy on us? Or kill us?" - Needles finished for him. There was hate growing in his gaze, and as Harron quickly glanced at Wraith, her face too was turning into a mask.

But Challe- Cipher, Cipher Ten admiral called him, resumed his walk after the adjutant. Instead, the Admiral spoke:

"Cipher Ten was supposed to determine the validity of your promise. To ensure this defection wasn't a cowardly ruse to harm the Empire. And to make sure the warhead was not sabotaged. You understand," - Admiral then gestured for the men to follow him. - "Now, Commander Tavus, we have a lot to discuss. Let us relocate to my office."

[opinated-user]

I've seen people cite Aliana glassing a planet in TSR as en example of Lily writing dictators suffering no consequences for their actions and making it so their always in the right. Before I continue, I'm gonna preface this with I'm not defending LO or her writing choices.

IIRC, back when I still followed her on Tumblr, she had said the reason Aliana did that was because there was an outbreak of the Rakghoul plague, which is basically space zombies and is canon (prior to Disney wiping the EU clean but I digress). So Aliana glassing a planet over a Rakghoul plague outbreak is not unreasonable, if the plague had spread across the entire planet and infected a large majority of the population. However knowing LO part of me suspects this isn't what happened but I might be wrong.

In Knights of the Old Republic, there's a mission early on where you have to help a doctor on the planet Taris try to develop a either a cure or a vaccine against the Rakghoul plague and it succeeds, but the Sith glass Taris and the cure is destroyed. And given how dangerous the Rakghoul plague is, it makes some level of sense to just declare a planet suffering an outbreak a lost cause.

HOWEVER, because a cure was at one point discovered, that means it's possible, and given Aliana is just the fucking leader of the galaxy now, she definitely has the resources to be able to put together an effort to find or rediscover the cure, so her glassing a planet was ultimately pointless and poor writing, especially if the Rakghoul outbreak was small scale and not planetwide.

I'm not defending LO, I just haven't seen context for that tidbit about TSR and wanted to provide some and in the process further point out how dumb a writing decision that was that LO made.

someone correct me if wrong, but i understood that alaina blows up a planet before becoming officially the leader of the galaxy which opens up the next questions: 1. why it had to be alaina of anyone else on the universe the one to decide to carry out a genocide or not? 2. if this event is not going to have further consequences for the other characters... why is there at all? if my memory serves me right, i think the way this event was handled was just a little bit of angst for alaina and to be an excuse to have some hurt/comfort with rey later on. i don't care about having scenes like that, i just wonder if genocide was really the only thing that we could have used for that. it could have been used for alaina to want to discover that cure at all cost and do her absolute best to eradicate that disease so an event like that never has to happen again... but LO never even mentioned that happening. alaina just destroyed the entire population of a planet, is sad for a few paragraphs and apparently never thinks about it again. never uses it as a motivator to want to save more people in the future. it just happens and then we move on to the next thing. on top of that, remember that LO has a thing about liking to write genocidal dictators whose choice are deemed good just because. before alaina it was lord ryder, who destroyed planet earth because someone was rude. my guess is that LO just likes to have that kind of power. it's part of her power fantasy to just be able to carry out genocide.

[liminalpebble]

The Refugee: Chapter 10

Masterlist link

Loki was absent from the keep for several weeks touring his realms, checking the enforcement of his rule, and expanding further into new territories, which kept the linguistics division busy decoding and documenting languages. Loki and his generals utilized their findings for either diplomacy or threat, depending on the situation. The emperor himself gave them the additional burden of archiving masses of information on each language and culture in the name of his great mission of preservation.

Lea, for her part, was glad for her routine with the department. It was a lifeline keeping her sanity from being swept into the undertow of rumination over her captivity. She needed a place to focus her formidable mind and anxieties, although she would rather not think about how Loki might be using her work. She was often the last one to leave the wing in the evening. On many of those late days Magnus would come to fetch her, finding her sitting deep in thought, head propped on her knuckles, brows furrowed in contemplation. He thought sometimes that sitting at her desk this way, in the crisp royal purple uniform of the department, she looked like a self-assured commander herself. It struck him yet again that mere months ago she was just demurely serving food and drink to farmers, and it seemed unimaginable. Magnus tapped on the door this day and found her in a less commanding and more disheveled state; long skirt creased and wrinkled from sitting too long with one leg tucked beneath her, hair a mess held up with a stylus, and eyes dark-circled.

“Come in,” she said absently.

“Hello there,” Magnus chirped. “Have you eaten?”

“Maybe? What time is it?”, she asked stretching and rubbing her eyes.

“Wrong answer. If you can't remember when you've eaten, then it's probably time to eat again.”

She gave a tired smile of defeat. “You're right. Thank you, Magnus.”

He pulled her up by the arm and they made their way to the long-deserted dining hall, where Magnus slipped into the kitchen to fetch two sandwiches and warm drinks. This was becoming their routine most evenings and Lea always found that she was, in fact, very hungry and she was very glad for Magnus' company. She always told him so and without fail, thanked him, as if it was the most magnanimous gesture in the world. It made his heart swelled a little every time that a simple reminder of the time, a sandwich, and a little chat could mean so much to her.

He began, “So. Have you heard Vlad the Complainer is returning tomorrow?”

She almost choked at Magnus' new teasing nickname for their king. Surprised, she said, “Dracula? I didn't know you liked Migardian media!”

“Please, Lea, I'm best friends with a man obsessed with it. How could I not?”

“You're full of surprises, doctor. And that's a clever one. I nearly choked.”

Her levity settled into apprehension as she realized the arrival of Loki meant that the dreaded summon to his bedchambers might be imminent. She hoped that maybe he'd reconsidered the whole thing, seeing how useful she's been otherwise.  Magnus knew her well enough by now to guess what was troubling her and what she was thinking. He took her hand in his. “He can be a terror but he can also be all talk and bluster about a great many things. I think deep down he still has a conscience. He cares about me, and he's come to care about you. I think that will influence his choices.”

She nodded sincerely, then quipped playfully, “Thank you, Magnus, but your relentless optimism can be annoying, you know.” Her lips curled into a sardonic grin, but he saw there was dread behind it. She was trying to detour from this conversation and the feelings it agitated, like sharp cold rocks being jostled within her.

“Heh. So I've been told by Loki many many times. Now I have to hear it from you?” He watched her face a moment as she took a sip of her tea, feeling so much affection for her, wishing she wouldn't hide her deeper emotions so relentlessly from him...from everyone. “You know, I'm aware that you came to this life through horrible circumstances and even now it's not exactly easy, but I'm selfishly very glad you're here. You've changed things for the better somehow.” Lea looked stunned and very touched. Magnus was always generous with kind or hopeful words, but this was somehow more deeply important. They let the words hang between them a moment. Lea couldn't open her mouth to thank him, knowing some guarded sentiment inside herself might slide out of place like an errant brick, causing the entire wall to collapse. He just nodded. He knew what she wished she could express. Magnus having said what he needed to say, decided to be merciful and change the conversation. “So shall we practice your combat skills again tomorrow?”

Relieved, she said, “Sure. I'm itching to use those scimitars again. Thank you for getting me permission, by the way.”

“Ah..it's no trouble. I guess our king figures you can't stab him if they're kept in the armory and enchanted.”

“True, and very wise. God knows, I'm often tempted to stab him.”

“Please, I consider it at least twice a day,” Magnus joked and they both laughed.

---

The next day a servant found her in the linguistics wing and summoned her immediately to Loki and Magnus' favorite lounge to greet the returning king.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, m'lady. I think he is just anxious to see you,” the maid replied with a shy smile, and Lea smiled back. She swept through the corridors, a swish of plum-colored fabric down the golden halls to the lounge, then tapped on the door. An irritated voice which could only be Loki's growled, “Enter!” as she opened the door. The fearsome conqueror sat wearing casual clothes and a bit of gauze stuck to his forehead. Magnus hunched over him, trying to seal some stitches in a blue glow.

“This would go a lot more quickly if you stop fidgeting, Loki!”

“I am not fidgeting!” he yelled, fidgeting.

Lea's snicker drew both of their attentions. “Oh don't mind me gentlemen. Please continue,” Lea said, holding in another laugh and coming around to face Loki. “You summoned me, sir?”

Loki, looked her up and down in her uniform. He hadn't seen her in it yet. “Oh, you are looking very smart in that uniform, aren't you? What a stroke of genius on my part to put you in one,” he said, knowing damn well it was her idea. He couldn't resist riling her just a little, which earned a wry expression from both Magnus and Lea. He had missed that, and her, terribly.

Magnus finished, leaving a small dark line on Loki's forehead to heal, and a dip of antiseptic to make him wince. “You are such a baby for being a god!” Magnus chided.

“Enough. To business. Lea, I wanted to commend your work on the linguistics and cryptography projects. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that you've been invaluable to the cause. For that you have my immense gratitude.”

“Thank you,” she said warily. She never knew where praise from Loki was going and that unsettled her.

“To celebrate the empire's recent victories, we'll be holding a ball in the near future, in which I will formally present you to the court as a new resident adviser. We'll have to...you know...do a great deal of polishing you up to be in the company of nobility. That will be your occupation for a time instead.”

“But I can't be gone. We're making so much progress on the...”

He held up one long finger to his lips in a silencing gesture, then pronounced slowly and purposefully with a bit of authoritative menace in his eyes, “You can and you will. I have others working on it. They can spare you for now.”

“Very well,” she sighed, knowing he always gets his way when he really wants to.

---

The next day, Lea received a summons to a wing of the castle she had yet to visit. She looked around curiously, wondering if she was in the right place. Just then Loki breezed flamboyantly out of a wide double door right in front of her, making her jump with surprise.

“God, Loki...I mean....Sire...You scared me half to death!”

“God, that I am darling,” he said with a wink. He guided her into a vast and stunning ballroom with a hand on the small of her back. He smiled jubilantly at her, watching her eyes widen and scan the sprawling gold ceiling and walls. They were drenched with murals and tapestry, punctuated by huge windows with velvet drapes.

“You like it?”

“It's beautiful,” she gasped.

“Right...today I need to teach you to dance.”

“I know how to dance.”

“You know how to perform a dance. I need to teach you to dance with a partner.”

“I don't like dancing with partners. I can't rely on them to do their part well enough.”

“Huh. Those trust issues really seep into absolutely everything don't they?”

She gave him an unamused look, and responded with a sharp, “but enough about you.”

He flashed his wide, toothy grin with absolute glee. God, he had missed her...missed this.

“Come here,” he said. She hesitated but obliged.

He set her arms; one on his shoulder and one extended, then held her around the waist and took her hand in his. They looked forward, eyes meeting for a moment before she looked down at her feet and said, “okay, what do our feet do?”

He lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “Never look at your feet. Look at me.”

“But how will I learn the footwork?”

“I will lead you. Must you always be so inquisitive?”

“Yes, I must. How do you lead me?”

“Ah, well, communicating through subtle movements. For instance, if I pull you by the waist this way, it means I'm taking a step backwards. If I release your hand this way, I'm instructing you to turn...etc.”

“Okay...this is difficult.”

“It's simply a system of social communication, a kind of language. You know...language...the thing you obsess over every day. And, of course you're intelligent so it should really be very easy and intuitive. I wasn't expecting you to struggle with it.” She wondered if this was him attempting encouragement. If so, he wasn't particularly good at it.

“I'm not intuitive...not socially anyway.”

“So you're a linguist who struggles to actually communicate with anyone?”

She looked unexpectedly sad at this, halting their spar. He felt a bit sorry to have hit too close to the bone. He had struck the nerve of her loneliness.

“You seem to be doing well with it now,” he said, trying to recover. He stroked an encouraging little caress on the small of her back, where his large hand had been splayed in a dominant pull.  

It was true. She hadn't noticed that they were gliding smoothly into a sort of waltz. Loki was, predictably, a good leader; subtly but firmly taking control before the other party even realized it. Once she did realize it, she glanced down at their feet again, still curious about the details of the footwork. Loki once again lifted her face with his graceful hand, this time a bit more tenderly.”

“Look at me. Remember, if you look to the floor you'll trip and end up there.”

“Can I learn the the part where I lead now?”

“No, you don't lead. Ladies always follow.”

She gave him an exasperated look..

“I didn't make the rules! Besides, isn't it nice to just glide along with an incredibly handsome man, not needing to do anything but be held and look into his lovely eyes?” he said in a cocky, grinning, croon.

To his great satisfaction, she was too mesmerized by his face, and voice, and touch to even respond for a moment. She was simply experiencing the rhythm of their breaths, his hand around her waist, the feel of his strong shoulder under her palm. She shook the spell off in order to respond.

“Even this room isn't big enough to contain your ego, is it?” He sucked in his breath and narrowed his eyes in a faux pained expression. Then suddenly, explosively, he laughed.

In retaliation, he suddenly pulled her closer and tighter against him. It felt exhilarating to have her so close, the warm curves of her little body pressed against the lean graceful strength of his cold one. He noticed with delight that her hand at his shoulder was now pushed to the nape of his neck and her fingertips began to gently, subconsciously toy with his hair as they swayed for some time, lost in the dance. She was blushing and looked down yet again.

“No. Look up. Meet my eyes and carry yourself like the queen you are...the queen I will make you,” he said, this time holding her hot cheek with the icy curve of his hand. To his surprise she didn't flinch away or fight him, in fact, she leaned her head ever so slightly into him. He tried to be as gentle as possible, as if trying not to spook a doe eating from his hand. She was so frightened. He could tell, feeling her heartbeat like a hummingbird fluttering against her rib cage.

“Please don't be afraid of me, Lenora...not now. I don't want to scare you away” he said very gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb and gazing longingly into the deep black pools of her eyes.

“Then please stop giving me reasons to fear you,” she said in a sad whisper. She gave his hair one final soft stroke as he pressed his head against her palm, matching her posture against his. He closed his eyes and kept them that way as he felt her move away from him, wincing as if struck when he heard the door close behind her. He stood there, alone with himself again in his own darkness, keeping his eyes shut tight and feeling a chilly angry shiver as her warmth left his grasp. A few tears ran down his face as her honey and incense scent lingered around him.

A/N: I did not come up with the name Vlad the Complainer. It's the name of a very entertaining and delightfully villainous black cat on Instagram. I thought it fit beautifully for Loki (who I believe would definitely be a sassy black cat in some variant form) Thank you @gigglingtigger @lokisgoodgirl @goblingirlsarah for your continued support! You’re so kind to hold my hand through this.

[astorythatwritesitself]

Shepard AMA Round 4

Even better this time because I've found a keyboard to use with my phone :D As usual, using @spookyvalentine 's list of questions! (Note: A few were answered already & just cut and pasted lol)

Round 1

Round 3

1. When was the last time Shepard cried? - Just after Thane's death. This is another one that may get a full drabble treatment, but the gist of it is: goes to pray because she's taken a lot of hits recently, seeing her husband killed (and because of my developing thoughts on Kepral's and all, his health had probably been improving or at least moderating)? She barely keeps composure in the hospital and by the time she's there to talk to... like her patron goddess at this point, she can get in like three words before just. Completely breaking. Like- she's definitely shed plenty of tears, but usually managed to keep it relatively contained and quiet; this is full on finally raging at the situation she's been herded into and truly swallowed by grief and despair for a little bit.

But there's work to be done, so once she's cried out the worst of it, she picks herself up and gets back to the Normandy. No, she's not fine- but everyone's losing loved ones right now. Hers isn't more special, and she can help prevent there being more.

2. First impression of Miranda—and does it change? - Dangerous. Very, very dangerous and might sell you to satan for one corn chip. While the impression of dangerous doesn't fade, she does come to to respect Miranda's bluntness, and is delighted to count her among 'loyal ally' once Miri gives her resignation on the Collector base.

3. The game Shepard will always win: - She's got some exceptional balance and flexibility that make her a Twister champ.

4. Do they like living on a ship? -It's made up the bulk of her life, disliking it was never really a choice lol. She definitely enjoys it though, it's nice that there's always others around. Even in an apartment situation, she'd find anything else unsettlingly lonely for a while.

5. What skills come naturally to them? - Cooperation and diplomacy, she has a very strong, inherent sense of fairness that is damn near impossible to turn off.

6. What abilities have they worked hard to hone? - All her combat skills, particularly her sniping and biotics. The biotics are an extra point of pride towards the end, since she pretty much had to relearn using them from scratch after being brought back. Also, her language skills, you don't give a debate speech in turian dialect as a kid for nothing!

7. The very first time they killed someone: - At about twenty, and it's not a particularly dramatic story. She was fresh and on a small mission to bolster protection of a colony that had been facing batarian raids. She was positioned high up and far, and did her share of picking off slavers as they came along.

8. Shepard walks into a bakery. What do they order? oh my god I forgot this one

Big slice of black forest cake.

9. How did they feel about being promoted to Spectre? Hollow. Like- Adrian knew, logically, she ought to be overjoyed, this was the pipe dream her parents had had in mind for her, the long shot that was never going to happen but she'd kind of been prepared for just in case. It meant the world to Anderson. It meant so much for humanity. It was a magnificent step in how she could serve the galaxy. She tried to rationalize it as shock, but even to her dying day, she could only muster up empty indifference to that moment.

10. Favorite drinking buddy and why: - Wrex. 1- he can keep up even after the cybernetics. 2- he always stayed pretty calm and had the best stories. (Thane's probably second, even though neither of them go hard- she just very much enjoys barside flirting with him.)

11. What does Samara think of Shepard? - Fairly respectful. Admires Shepard's aim to preserve peace but willingness to fight should the situation call for it, but also finds her a little... overly attached and sentimental, as it were.

12. Where do their thoughts linger? The past, present, or future? - Present, mostly. She doesn't like dwelling on the past, and while she thinks of the future... well, she always dealt with a serious sense of forshortened future, even before dying the first time. Best just to focus on the here and now.

13. It’s Shepard’s turn to cook. What’s on the menu? How does it go? - Cold sandwiches and that's if you're lucky. She's fucked up MREs, over or undercooks meat, and just never nailed timing and often winds up burning things, and once managed to start a fire in the pursuit of sauted onions. (That said, especially being a biotic, she has like 5 varieties of candy and protein bars on her person at any given time. Can't cook, but her squad can always count on having snacks during a mission!)

14. Describe Shepard’s funeral:

Which one?

Her first death was a decent but overall average affair- widely recognized, several speeches from Alliance brass, her parents, Anderson, even some words from the asari Councilor. Some from the Normandy crew, of course. But it comes and goes in a couple of hours, that's about it.

After the battle of London?

The Normandy crew hold one after the crash, even though the ship needs repairs. It won't be confirmed for a while, but they know Shepard's gone, Chakwas has a bottle of brandy and they've got time, now.

There are countless smaller memorial services held throughout the galaxy over the following year, and Shepard is mentioned but not singled out in many- one for lost Alliance soldiers, one for casualties of the Citadel, for casualties of the Reaper war in general, for Spectres killed in action. The dedicated service isn't until the following April 11th.

Shepard had stipulated, that should she be KIA and no remains could be recovered, just make it a celebration of life, no symbolic burial or anything (If there were remains: cremation & scatter at sea. No body this time.) 'Talk, get Ash to read something if you can. Whatever gives everyone closure, I'm not planning on hanging around.'

She hadn't been slacking in helping people before her first death, but her undertakings throughout 2 & 3 see an outpouring of people from across the Milky Way whose lives she directly impacted, there's a solid couple hours for open talk before the prepared speeches start to account for this.

Hannah and Adrian Shepard try to give a second eulogy for their child, and it's painfully apparent that while never outright estranged, there was a rift that never did properly mend.

All the Normandy survivors say something or another. Wrex is the only one who doesn't start straight up crying in some fashion. Garrus can't make it through, and Joker just passed up speaking entirely. Ashley is the last, and ends the event around twilight with a reading of The Old Astronomer.

15. What draws Morinth to Shepard? - Novelty. First human spectre, back from the dead, so notoriously... nice; drawing in and corrupting Shepard would be delicious.  

16. How well does Shepard know Kai Leng? - Not at all. 

17. During a mission, Shepard breaks an arm. Badly. How do they handle it? - That's the risk you take on the field. She doesn't like it by any means, but she'll get it set as best as possible, carry on, and wonder if this will be the new most bullshit thing Chakwas has had to fix on her. (It isn't- that honor still goes to 'being doused head to toe in thresher maw acid and still not coming back to the ship for 4 hours')

18. Three rumors about Shepard:

- Paid off by aliens to sabotage human interests.

- Relies on bribery and threats, her charisma is just Alliance propoganda to get the wider community to accept such a high-profile human.

- A small but very dedicated one: Is the unnamed photographer behind a number of landscape photos that have appeared in Fornax over the last 7 years, as some of them are very hard to access unless you're military or similar, and how the fuck else did Fornax get images of Ilos before anywhere else?! 

19. Table manners? - Flawless when they have to be, decorum was definitely among her lessons growing up. But on an ordinary day... eh. Not a slob, but she will definitely talk with her mouth partially full.

20. What was their first reaction to seeing their glowing scars in 2? - Very fucking unnerved. Of everything that's happened to her, that's probably what gave her the most pause, and she was /very/ glad to see them fade.

21. Why did Nihlus choose to nominate Shepard as a Spectre candidate? - She was pushed on him, really. He was wary about human candidates, considering Anderson's failure, but the Alliance never eased up. Combined with Shepard's history and closeness with Anderson, he felt he'd at least give a token trial. Either she failed and he could at least say he tried, or she surprised them and the Spectres got a solid new addition. Nothing could possibly go wrong with that plan, right?

22. Describe their posture: Most of the time- tall and confident- shoulders back, head up, alert and attentive. Often rigid, even when she's supposedly 'relaxing', ready to go at a moment's notice. (Thane's the only one who's really seen Adrian truly 'down'- she tends to slump and curl into herself a bit and rely on whatever's nearby for support- chair, desk, him, the wall...)

23. Was Shepard born to lead, or was command hoisted upon them? - Yes. With Adrian being a Spacer/Sole Survivor, it's very much a 'yes to both' sort of deal. Her family has longstanding military service, and in my timeline, her parents both served in the Relay 314 incident/First Contact War, her father in particular gaining some notoriety, and her parents definitely pushed for their child to be an absolute pinnacle of humanity. They never thought Spectre was actually a possibility, but they damn well ensured she'd be a good candidate anyway.

She rarely specifically sought out leadership, though- but that wound up being part of why she so often wound up in charge of things. She was competent but not overbearing, good at mediating but kept things in line once a decision was made, and didn't act like she was entitled to boss anyone around. She just gets shit done and people tended to flock to that.

24. Do they fall in love easily? - Define love lol.

Ok for romantic love, no- Adrian would defined herself along the lines 'aromantic until proven otherwise' if pressed for specifics; Thane really took her by surprise. (But under other/broader definitions, oh yes. She loves freely and frequently, even if she never puts it into so many words. Really excited to answer the love languages question in the other set xD)

25. Does Shepard dream of the starchild, or does it take a different form? - So I'm workshopping some ideas with this thing & it's also slowly leaning into just declaring Clarke's Third Law the rule for handling ME's relationship with telepathic/telekinetic shit-

All this to say yes, and yes. It first appears as a child, because it's not used to making connections to individuals and it's learning on the fly- humans are protective of their young, right? But it becomes apparent Shepard isn't more protective of kids than anything else in general, so it slowly shifts tactics- the voices of loved ones, glimpses of old enemies, but it still morphs, until the final confrontation: it imitates Adrian, whole and hale like she'll never be again.

26. A lesson that was hard to learn:

You can't save everyone.

It's arguable if she ever did learn that- related to the above, if she ever did, it was only while talking to some abandoned AI as she was dying.

27. Who was their first crush? - When her parents were stationed to the Citadel when she was around 15, there was a salarian in the area she was kind of into, but for very many reasons that never went anywhere.

28. How do they feel about all the new cybernetics Miranda installed? - Honestly she really digs them. Like- yes it was unconsentual but Adrian never bought into that Ship of Thesus cyberpunk moralizing bullshit. She'd always been fine with bodily augmentation of all sorts, and had even had some done early on in her career.

29. Does Shepard remember dying? - Yes. Goes with an answer from the first set I did, it's slated for a writeup 👀

30. One of the dumbest things they’ve ever done: 'Okay no trust me guys I can drive this at a 90 degree angle right up a mountain this thing kicks ass-'

That was her first ground mission with Garrus and Tali. They were upside down for ten minutes and got so lost, Joker couldn't find them for another 30.

31. What is their favorite story to tell? The one that they get such a kick outta sharing that the gang could probably recite it from memory by now - Garrus and Tali actually do get in on this one since they were there- 'so I managed to talk a completely indoctrinated Saren into shooting himself-'

(Garrus also gets to mouth along to one from the SR2 era, because it was impressive and becomes meaningful but also lost all gravity to him immediately because he got to see Shepard at possibly her most flustered ever as a direct result of it: 'It seemed like an easy enough one, we might not even get invovled in combat, but it'd get Thane some ground time and see how he fit in, you know? But then there's this nest of Eclipse mercs...')

32. What kind of drunk is Shepard? Affectionate, weepy, belligerent…  - Loud and actually close to relaxed for once in her life.

33. Describe their laugh: Warm- like sunlight from late on a summer day over a fast river.

34. What was it like, facing a reaper on foot? - Numb. Like, logically? Terrifying, but so much was happening that she just kind of bypassed terror into pure flow. If asked about it later, she genuinely can't recall anything about the fight.

35. Are there any friendships that form among the crew that surprises Shepard? - Wrex and Ashley. Before Virmire, Wrex had been one of the first to join in Ash's attempt at a book club, and even after, the two seemed to butt heads but like, in a respectful rival sort of way; and they always seemed to fight well together.

Of the SR2 crew: A few (Jack winds up hanging out with Samara- ostenssibly to see if she can make her crack; Grunt spends hours in the armory chatting with Jacob), but the standout moment was Shepard coming back in from a long ground mission to refuel on snacks, only to find a moderately inebriated Garrus and Miranda... basically comisserating on daddy issues. She never brought it up to them. They never said anything to her. But she did ask EDI about it like a week later to make sure she didn't have some kind of hallucination.

36. What sort of thrills do they purposely seek out? - Fight Big Thing On Foot. Yeah, anyone can take out something with a tank canon, but bringing it down with smaller guns and way less armor is phenomenal.

37. The first speech Shepard ever gave. How’d it go? Poorly, but she was like 13. Mock debate about how humanity should go about interacting with wider galactic society. Shepard was assigned the more... 'pro-human' side. Her speech itself was technically fine (re: prepared by her dad because 'the Shepards have a reputation to maintain, dear'), but she failed & got a hell of a lecture for giving it in a (very broken, admittedly) turian dialect.

38. Do they celebrate holidays? Which is their favorite? - She's almost always up for celebrating a holiday, but her favorite is, oddly, New Year's! All of them. She likes the energetic, hopeful vibes they give everyone, and how it seems to be one that shows up in all species and tends to carry similar rituals. (There's three she gets the most involved in though, are: the galaxy Citadel standard, the one set by Earth's Gregorian calandar, and one following Rakhana's lunar cycle.)

39. Longest friendship? - Joker. In my canon, I like the idea that Shepard & Joker crossed paths a bunch growing up and were pretty good friends, keeping up online when they had to be apart. She tried to get assigned to ships he was piloting, and they were absolutely thrilled to show up to the Normandy and find each other.

40. What does Udina think of Shepard? - Hates her. Like, deep, visceral hatred for her. She could be the shining beacon of human interest and advancement, and instead, she's more interested in playing nice with the Council and has directly stated her refusal to put humanity first. So much potential, absolutey wasted.

41. If they were sent back to any moment in time, when would it be, and what would they change? - She's really not sure. Akuze is obviously the first thing that comes to mind, but... as much as she's ashamed of her actions, she can't deny that she vastly prefers living to dying, and she doubts she'd be able to get them to leave. Maybe Eden Prime - if there could be any way to warn Nihlus?

42. What song is their anthem? - The Fly

43. They come into an insane amount of money. How do they spend it? - Donate it/split it up amongst her friends. She doesn't feel she needs all that much, really.

44. What sort of relationship does Shepard have with the council? - Rough. She wants and tries to work with them as much as possible, but also oh my god will you get your heads out your collective ass/cloacas. (She also has very choice words for the idea of the council only being representative of three/four species of the like, dozen or so who agree to abide by Citadel law...)

45. Three things Shepard is bad at:

- Cooking anything more advanced than 'cold meat + cheese + berad'

-Saying 'no' when someone asks for help, even if they're clearly shady as fuck

-Driving.

46. Favorite candy? - Cotton candy. (Or anything that's vaguely fruity flavored sugar, really.)

47. Who is Shepard’s date to the Citadel party? - Sadly she never got that experience xD

48. What is Thane’s fate? - Died from injuries sustained defending the council- pretty true to canon tbh, but injuries that were severe enough he'd have died Kepral's or not. (Honestly as much as I love the final scene, I'm also a bastard who sometimes wants to say he was just DOA.)

49. What’s the perfect lazy-day shore leave? - Docked at one of the major ports, everyone gets an extra hour or so of time to sleep/fuck off as desired. Adrian herself usually tries to spend some time with a few people through the day (although Garrus and Tali are almost always a package deal lol), and if timing lines up well with Citadel stops she and Joker try to catch a meal with Anderson. SR1 era tended towards big group dinners out, SR2 era usually sees Shep & the crew picking up fresh supplies and heading back to the ship early to cook- usually it's Gardner, but some of the others pitch in here and there. And as things progress, of course, she and Thane do try to get some time out together.

50. What’s do they think of the leviathan? - Lack of DLC strikes again xD But I can give a thought there that to some level, she would find them amazing - she's always found deep ocean life fascinating and something that's still a source of mystery among most worlds. They're awesome in the classic sense of the word, almost sort of the realization of a dream.

+1. How long can Shepard hold their breath? - Her best time was nearly 7 minutes, averages around 5 & a half; N7 training and a love of swimming really helps. I imagine post cybernetics, it might be increased even further.

[songofsunset]

Wait what does elder in the LDS church mean? What do people think it means? I am so ignorant of it all but I feel like it's important to know since they're so influential in certain places

I think the line I was referring to was "He’d also been an elder in the LDS church but was excommunicated"

To someone unfamiliar, "He'd also been an elder" might sound like he was 'high ranking', but it really just means he spent two years of his life away from home preaching the gospel that would never love him back.

Elder is the honorific you use for a boy who is serving a mission! These are generally teenage boys (18 and 19 and 20ish. The mission lasts for two years and is pretty damn culturally mandatory for boys) So it's a term of respect, but also doesn't imply age or wisdom. Like, for serious, I was taught to look up to the missionaries my whole childhood, but from this end of time I'm like 'oh god they're babies why are we sending them out to represent us they've never even done their own laundry' whoops

Everyday members refer to each other as Brother and Sister Lastname. Men get called by different titles based on the roles they're serving, like Elder for missionaries, Bishop for Bishops, and President for a variety of things from the president of the local group of congregations (a stake) to the actual Prophet and First Presidency of the church.

Women never really get any titles other than Sister, even the ones who are active missionaries. Something something sexism something something a woman's highest honor isn't priesthood it's MOTHERHOOD (unless you're gay in which case you don't need a family it's fine suck it up......)

The role and title associated with age and wisdom that Elder might seem to imply- to someone doesn't know it generally applies to teenagers- is Patriarch.

[fangirlsmood]

Kyojuro Rengoku x reader x Tomioka Giyuu - Another love

_Warnings : spoiler about mugen train

Synopsis : After the death of your husband you slowly take back a taste for life ... with another man

_ Senjuro ? Where are you going like this ?

_ Ah (Y/n)! I am going to take a walk in the village, to sell the wood that I collected this morning!

_ Oh Senjuro... You don’t have to do this.

_ I want to ! It won't bring in a lot of money, but you can buy yourself a new kimono or a pretty brooch. 

Knowing that he was as stubborn as his elder brother, you sighed :

_ Fine. But don't get too tired and get home quickly.

He embraced you tenderly before leaving, promising to be careful. Senjuro had always loved you very much, but it was only since his big brother was no longer there that he got into the habit of hugging you tight before each departure. You didn't know if he was doing this because Kyojuro asked him to take care of you or because he was afraid of losing you. 

Since your husband's death everything had changed. You would wake up every morning in a cold bed, the smell of your loved one was gone over time, and getting up was a struggle. Even though the pain was sharp you had no choice: you had to stay strong for Senjuro and Shinjuro. Although you had some money aside without Rengoku's salary, you had to accumulate the jobs while running the house. Senjuro was doing his best to help you, like this morning when he went to sell wood. He too had changed. He was even more determined to become like his brother, a demon slayer. You didn't agree, the idea of ​​losing Senjuro like you had lost Kyojuro made you sick and you had become a little overprotective with the child who for some time had ceased to be one. Shinjuro hadn't spoken about the death of his son. You acted like the perfect daughter-in-law and you took care of him the best you could. Sometimes you resented him for not having been more present for his sons, for never having told them that he was proud of them but now you understood why the passion that had inhabited this man for so long was extinguished and had given way to bitterness. 

You and Senjuro supported each other, he allowed you to face life one more day. He had become your reason for living. Him and ... Tomioka Giyuu to be honest.

The sun set slowly and you were worried to death. Senjuro had not returned. You were going out to get him when there was a knock on the door. You rushed in hoping it was him. 

_ (Y/n)! Look who I found on my way !

Tomioka stood beside him with a straight face. You laugh inwardly imagining your little Rengoku forcibly taking him to your home, you visualize very well Giyuu unable to say no to this child full of passion. Tomioka nodded polietly his head to greet you and you invited both to enter. 

You served dinner for the two boys. Giyuu wanted to help you but you declined. You brought his meal to Shinjuro who was eating alone in his room as always and when you returned Senjuro and your guest was in the middle of a conversation. Giyuu seemed to be telling a story and you were surprised at how attentive Senjuro was. Usually he was too talkative to listen to anyone, getting into long stories, unless it was his father or his brother. His eyes were shining, you didn't want to interrupt them so you took a seat discreetly. Giyuu continued his story :

_ The demons were not that strong but they were clever and numerous. The civilians were terrified but he told them "Don't be afraid, everything will be fine, there will be no deaths or injuries"...

You choked. He told of his first mission as a pillar, a mission carried out with Kyojuro. You knew it because your husband had enthusiastically told you about it in detail. Giyuu stopped the two boys looked at you worried :

_ Oh ... sorry, maybe I shouldn't...

_ No it's me ! I shouldn't have asked you to tell me about a big brother ... Sorry (Y/n) I didn't think ...

You drank a mouthful of water before smiling, reassuring them quickly :

_ No it's good, everything is fine. I was just surprised but keep going, i want to hear the rest.

Giyuu hesitated a bit but ended up continuing his story. His voice was very monotonous but he recounted the events with precision for your viewing pleasure. Senjuro let out little noises, sometimes of admiration, sometimes of surprise. It had been a long time since he had been so passionate and you were really happy to see him gesticulate all over the place and ask for more. Contrary to what you might think, hearing about your late husband didn't break your heart. On the contrary, it was like talking about good memories. This impression left you perplexed. Did you have the right to think so? Not crying anymore when hearing about him ?

At the end of the meal Senjuro went to bed, claiming that the day had been exhausting. You accompanied him to his room to tuck him in as if he were a fragile little baby. Being mothering like this embarrassed him but he didn't say anything knowing that this kind of thing would reassure you, so you knew he was sleeping peacefully and safe. When you returned to the kitchen Giyuu had cleared the table and was doing the dishes.

_ It is not for the guests to take care of this kind of thing, you said playfully taking from his hands the plate he was washing.

He then grabbed a tea towel and wiped up what he had already washed :

_ I want to. 

You knew him long before you got married but since the death of Kyojuro, you and Giyuu had become closer. He came to visit you regularly, to make sure you were okay. You even cry on his shoulder more than once. When you felt overwhelmed by your responsibilities his visits were a great support. With him you felt less alone and stronger, enough to face another day. 

You lost yourself in your thoughts for a moment and found yourself staring at him. You tell yourself that he was more than beautiful. You really wanted to put a hand on his cheek, just to feel the warmth of his skin. Suddenly you realized what you were thinking and your face flushed with shame. Noticing your change of attitude Giyuu broke the pleasant silence that reigned :

_ You should go to bed if you're not feeling well. I take care of the rest.

You told him where he could spend the night before leaving. This night you had a lot of trouble falling asleep. You rolled around, crying silently. You were falling in love with another man than Kyojuro. You felt terribly guilty, you felt like you were betraying him. You never thought about being with anyone other than Kyojuro, you never thought he would actually die before you. Now you didn't know how to shut up those emerging feelings and it was gnawing at you, you thought you must really be a horrible person. 

Giyuu didn't get much sleep either. He thought of you. When you first met, how beautiful he found you. Would things have been different if he had told you ? He  remembered your wedding, Tengen had said that you and Rengoku were "both flamboyant" and he had agreed. He had silenced his feelings but now he couldn't. Each time he told himself he wouldn't visit you but each time he couldn't help it. He had to be sure you were okay, he had to take care of you. He felt guilty for loving you, you who would never be his. You were Kyojuro’s and you will always be. He was so ashamed. Wasn't that disrespectful to his deceased comrade ? It wasn't the first time he thought of you before sleeping. Many times, before and after you were married, he had found himself imagining his life with you, but he always ended up telling himself that it was impossible. He wasn't as strong, sociable or funny as Rengoku. He wasn't as good as him and clearly he wasn't good enough for you.

You were awakened by noises coming from the inner courtyard. Going to see you discovered Giyuu and Senjuro training. The child tried to touch him with a wooden katana but Giyuu still dodged. You sat down and stared at them. Senjuro was really happy to be training with another person especially with a hashira. Someone took a seat by your side.

_ He's improving.

_ You should tell him to his face, Shinjuro.

_ The one with him... It’s Tomioka Giyuu ? The water hashira ?

_ Yes. How did you guess ?

_ Senjuro talk to me. He mentionned him many times recently. 

It was really unusual for Shinjuro to come talk to you, usually you just went through the formalities.

_ Can I help you ? You need something ?

He ignored your question. 

_ He seems to be a good men. Senjuro told me that he helped you a lot. 

You were a little uncomfortable.

_ Yes... He’s a really good person.

_ And a strong one. A good model for a boy, someone you can count on. 

_ What do you mean ?

It was really unusual for him to talk to you so much. Did he know your feelings ? His gaze fell on your hand :

_ You still wear it.

He talk about your wedding ring. You have been playing with it nervously since the start of your conversation. You didn't know what to say. The atmosphere was heavy. He went on :

_ Kyojuro isn’t here. We didn't talk much to each other but I know there were only three things that mattered for him. Become a pillar, the happiness of Senjuro and your happiness. He wants ... He wants you to be happy. Alone, with him or with... someone else.

You looked at him with wet eyes. It was as if Kyojuro, through his father, gave you permission to love someone else. You had the right to be in love with Giyuu, it was not a crime. You didn't have to fight your feelings, to blame yourself anymore, you thought you were going to cry in relief.

_ Senjuro is very observant. He told me that you and Giyuu were maybe more than friends or at least you could be. You look at this man like you looked at my son. You are lucky. I've never met someone like Ruka, if it had been things might have been different. I would have been a better father, a better man.

Your lip had started to tremble. You wanted to talk. To say what ? That you didn't know what to think anymore, that you were afraid to love another man ? Seeing that you were about to crack, Shinjuro tells you what you needed to hear :

_ You loved my son, you love him and you will always love him but now it's this man you are in love with and you have the right to.

You burst into tears. Shinjuro ran a comforting hand along your back. 

_ (Y/n) ?! Something’s wrong ?

Senjuro noticed that you were crying and he and Giyuu were running towards you. You tried to dry your tears but you couldn't control anything. He hugged you, his father left you and Giyuu stepped aside. It took you a while but you slowly regained your composure even though you were still crying :

_ It's okay now, don't worry. 

You offered him a big smile to support your point. In the evening, Giyuu's crow had come to warn him that he had to leave in the morning. 

Before sleeping you looked at your hand for a long time. You had a thought for Kyojuro before removing your wedding ring. It was strange not to feel the weight of the ring around your finger. Nonetheless you fell asleep peacefully.

You woke up at dawn. Giyuu was just getting ready to leave.

_ Giyuu ! Wait !

He stopped, he noticed that you no longer had your alliance which left him confused but he said nothing.

_ There is a festival in town next weekend. There will be a lantern throw ... If your mission is finished, would you like to go together? 

You thought it sounded a bit too much like a date so you pressed to add  :

_ Erm... We could take Senjuro and propose to Shinjuro even though I'm sure he'd rather not go out ...

He looked surprised but a small smile quickly lit his face :

_ My mission will be finished.

_ See you next Sunday then. Be carefull.

_ See you next Sunday.

You watched him go and when you no longer saw him Shinjuro appeared beside you. He had obviously heard everything. He looked at you smiling

_ What makes you smile ?

_ Nothing, I'm happy that's all. And I also tell myself that big brother is very happy at the moment.

And he was right. Kyojuro was happy knowing that you loved and was loved by a good men like Giyuu.

••••••••••••••

author notes : After seeing the film this one shot had been running through my head for a while. I hesitated for a long time to write it, I even thought of making the reader pregnant but finally i like the result. I really hope Rengoku fans move on (with Giyuu maybe). Falling in love again after her husband's death is a sensitive topic, but I see Rengoku the type who wants his wife to be happy, alone or with someone else. Maybe i am wrong. There was no romatic interaction in this one-shots and I regret it a bit. Maybe I should do part two, now that I say so I could write about the festival ...

Thanks for reading, every time I see someone liked my story my heart melts. I take any criticism (positive or negative). And if you see a grammar or spelling error, please let me know (English is not my first language so I don't always realize it), I will correct it.

Have a nice day / evening / night ♥

••••••••••

Navigation

[katsukikitten]

♡ Fluffy fluff - 1k words yo I cranked these out in on weekend I hope yall like these

"So really no one wants to go Christmas shopping with me?" You huff staring down your roommates. Kirishima and Sero avoid your gaze before Kaminari speaks up. 

"I'll go with you but we gotta have breakfast at Tiffany's." He says, earning him a blank faced stare. 

"Okay, I do have to go to Tiffany's for Momo but you do realize that they don't serve breakfast there right? That was just a movie title." He looks up from his phone with a dejected look.

"They don't?" His voice comes out with a bit of disappointment causing you to sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. You had known Denki since your highschool days and although you knew he wasn't necessarily the brightest bulb in the box it was still hard to see those golden puppy dog eyes. 

"You know what, I'll find a way to make breakfast happen. Just don't get up too late." 

And that's exactly how you found yourselves with two cups of hot coffee and a brown paper bag on a bench outside the bright teal building. Denki dancing in his seat as he devoured one of his breakfast sandwiches. You blew air through your nose while trying to lightly shake the smile from your lips. His joy in the simple things making your efforts worth it and honestly made your own sandwich taste better. The two of you ate while watching throngs of people come and go, people watching at its finest. The two of you taking turns to guess a person's shopping mission or relationship status just by looking at them.

"Bet they are a couple." Debki says pointing towards a man and a woman sharing a laugh. You shake your head no swallowing your mouthful, your quirk tingling beneath your skin as you suppress it.  

"Nah, He's closing the space between them but she isn't. He's interested in her but she either isn't and is being polite or is clueless." You shrug sipping at your coffee, Denki looks at the couple for a moment and tries to see what your profiling eye was trained to see. Then he looks at you and smirks, thinking it would be obvious to any woman when a man was interested in him. 

But as he often learned in life, things were never that simple. 

"Huh. Guess she's clueless then." He chuckles before nudging you to stand, "Let's get started on your list. Am I on there?" 

He peers past long ashes trying to steal a look at the piece of paper in your hands that had a list of names and ideas on what to get them. 

"Hey!" You bring the list to your chest while playfully pushing him.  

The two of you share a laugh. 

Then Denki holds open the door for you at Tiffany's, always the gentleman and a habit you noticed he picked up from Kirishima. He follows you through the store while you peruse before finding the perfect charm for her bracelet. A little teacup with a miniature intricate design, more than happy to pay the hefty price for your friends with the bonus from your agency. 

You present the little charm to Kaminari who nods with approval. 

As the day wanes on the crowds become thicker causing Denki to stick closer to you to keep wandering hands away. He presses his hand gently to the small of your back guiding you with long fingers as you're absorbed in your list, checking off names with an old pen. 

"Almost done!" You announce to him while he gives you a lopsided smile, "Seriously thank you for coming." 

"Yea it's no problem. It's been fun." His eyes soften causing your breath to hitch in your chest, "Sooo what are you getting me?" 

You rolls your eyes, keeping the list shielded before glancing down at it. You had a lot of options for him which was making it hard for you to pick something. You were elated last night when he agreed that he would come hoping his wonderfully goofy self would blurt out things he really liked. Instead he spent most of this trip agreeing with you how perfect your gift ideas were. 

"Oh I forgot to tell you, I'm buying your lunch today so where did you wanna-" Before you have the chance to finish he laces his fingers in yours pulling you towards the restaurant of his choice even shouting out the name of it as he strings you along. 

You laugh aloud at the irony that food would be such a motivator and jokingly say 

"I guess I should return my gift for you and take you on a dinner date instead." 

His laugh echoes around you as people part their way, watching two young people enjoying the season. 

As the sun does in winter it sets far too early as the two of you leave the restaurant happy and full. Deciding it best to walk home before the temperature dropped anymore. Denki walked alongside you with his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he relives the zing of his food and the richness of the day. His bright smile catches your eye and becomes contagious. Suddenly you're smiling dumbly at the concrete sidewalk, happy with your finds and how the day turned out. 

Before you can express yourself the overcast sky bursts with freezing rain, causing you both to seek shelter. The electric blonde lifts his jacket over his head and spreads his arms in such a way it turns into a makeshift umbrella. He closes the gap between the two of you to shield you from the icy rain. The smell of a summer rainstorm wafts from his jacket and if you closed your eyes you were sure you'd be able to hear the roar of thunder. Finally there is an awning big enough for the both of you to squeeze under as the sky drops icy buckets to the ground. Both of you soaked and shocked  share a look before bursting into tear inducing laughter. 

Laughter always came easiest around Denki. Both of you collect yourselves wiping at your cheeks while Denki runs a broad hand through his wet hair. You stare at him a moment, swallowing thickly before his goofy smile turns into a cocky smirk. 

"I'm hoping that you're clueless." He states causing you to scrunch your face in question. 

"What do you mean?" You ask as he leans closer. The Christmas lights from the closed shop cause his already captivating eyes to become electric and hypnotic. 

"I mean I've been closing the distance between us all day, months even." His nose touches yours as he tilts your chin, "So are you clueless or being polite." 

You swallow thickly as his words ring true, he had grabbed your hand first, placed his hand on your lower back to guide you through the crowd and even shielded you as best he could from the hailstorm above. Silence floats between you two as the rain pounds into the pavement slipping between your thoughts. Suddenly your throat constricts as you try to force the words from your tongue. 

"I'm clueless." You rasp, causing relief to wash over Denki's handsome features. With his prayers answered he captures your lips with his bringing you from the land of ignorance. He pulls away for just a moment speaking softly before kissing you again.

"It was nice not being the clueless one for once." 

[babylooneytoonz]

Author's Note: I got this as a request, but decided to turn this into a fic. Thank you to whoever this person was who requested it. 💗

Summary: Your first meeting with Sergeant Barnes wasn't exactly charming, hell, it was a disaster. And the only adjectives that came to your mind when you thought about him were words like prick, bastard and a jackass. He made your life hell, and you lived to make sure you made him suffer. And neither of you realized, how your sole mission of tormenting each other became the most important part of your life.

Set somewhere after Avengers Civil War. My book does not follow the storyline, and will not include the events of Infinity War and Endgame. I do not take credit for any of the characters, except for my OC/Reader.

Warnings: 18+ [Will include SMUT, curses and violence] // Bucky Barnes is an ass

Coffee Stains - Masterlist

Coffee Stains

You almost didn't realize how late it was; the sun had set hours back, and the moon was now shining bright, pale white glow radiating from its cheeks like White ivory spread over the ground outside. You finally decided to stop working, and instead head home. So, you shut your laptop, pushing your glasses over the bridge of your nose, and finally stood up. The SHEILD headquarters was still hustling and bustling with people. People kept walking past your office door, most of them in a hurry as you joined them in the hallway, making your way towards the elevator.

Your father had worked for SHEILD, having been one of the building blocks, along with Nick Fury, and now you, being his daughter, there was nothing more you had ever wanted to do but to dedicate yourself entirely to SHEILD. So here you were, associated with SHEILD, for almost two years now.

You didn't realize when in the bubble of your mind, the kinesis of your thoughts, a woman had stepped out of her office and was making her way towards you, but not after having called your name almost three times. When she reached the elevator, she let out a soft huff, which was enough to finally put you out of your trance.

"Maria, I'm sorry, didn't see you there," you retorted, a little flustered and pink at the cheeks.

The woman almost gave you a tight lipped smile, and slowly, her long, slender arms came to cross on her chest, her left foot almost tapping against the tiled floor of the headquarters, "I've been calling your name, you didn't respond. You alright?"

You thought for a moment, your glossy eyes looking down at her feet before back up on her face again, and nodded, "Yeah, yeah, just thinking. Is there anything you needed?"

"Not me, Fury wanted to see you before you left."

You nodded, pursing your lips slightly and gave her a ghost of a smile before taking a step back and craning your neck towards Fury's office once and then back, " Well then, I guess I'll pay the boss a visit." The two of you exchanged a light hearted chuckle, and you waved Maria off as she stepped into the elevator with two more agents, and you slowly made your way up to Nick Fury's office.

You stood awkwardly at the glass door, bringing your palm up to the glass and knocking on it. Inside the office, the bald headed man with a patch on one of his eyes slowly looked up, and when he saw you, a hint of a smile broke out on his lips as he nodded, and you stepped in.

"You wanted to see me?"

You and Fury shared an easy going relation; he reminded you of your dad, for the two of them had served together before your dad was killed in action, and ever since, Nick Fury had taken it upon him, to watch over you like a father figure.

"Come on in Y/N, I wanted to speak to you."

Shutting the door, you walked up to where he was seated and slowly lowered yourself on the empty chair in front of him, your elbows coming to rest on the surface of the desk.

"So– " He began, sitting back more comfortably, and also to keep a better eye at your expressions and reactions, "With Natasha Romanoff out on a mission, the Avengers are in need of a dire back up agent."

Your eyebrow shot up at his words, not understanding where he was getting at. As though he sensed your confusion, he continued, "A position is open. The Avengers are looking for someone to join the team. And I recommended your name."

It was as though your ears managed to block out every word that Fury said except for the part that he had recommended your name. Avengers had only been a distant dream for you till now. They really intrigued you; and you had done your research on almost everyone of them, except for the newbies of course that you hadn't had the chance to meet. Your lips parted in surprise, and a soft gush of air managed to escape your lips.

"Fury, I – I don't know."

"They asked us for the best we've got, and although it's been a long time we've sent you on our mission, you're the best we've got. I couldn't say no," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood for he was now able to sense that you were starting to get nervous.

"Holy shit." You finally managed to form words, not the best choice of words that you could have formed, but you were so surprised, you didn't know what to say.

"Rest up, Y/N. Tomorrow, we go to the Avengers Towers, and meet your new team."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The next day, you woke up earlier than you usually did, but you knew that it was your part excitement part anxiety bubbling up that had kept you tossing and turning in bed all night. You had gone over all the possible scenarios that could happen today, at the Avengers Towers, on why the Avengers would think that you weren't cut out for this. You were really good, there was no doubt about that; you were trained in hand to hand combat, espionage, you were good with weapons, with the small guns and also the big ones; you could say you were pretty good with your sniping skills. But, you hadn't been on a mission for the SHEILD in a long time, especially not after your messy divorce with Wallis, your ex husband who had been your colleague and your partner at SHEILD, the one person you always went on missions with. It had taken you a long time to come out of the emotional trauma that came with a separation, and to worsen it all, he had been the one that you had caught with another woman in your bed, on a night you almost escaped death, on one of your solo missions.

You were already dressed and ready by the time you were picked up and dropped off at the Stark Towers, with Fury by your side.

You wouldn't lie if you would say that you were starstruck, by just a look at the exterior of it. It was heavenly. And the interior. You didn't even want to comment on it, it was that breathtaking, a complete opposite to the SHEILD headquarters.

"Like it?" Fury chuckled next to you, breaking your thought process, and a faint hue of a blush to grace your cheeks. As the two of you got into the elevator, you turned around and gasped slightly at the sight of the entire city of Manhattan right there in front of your eyes, from a little glass box.

"Friday, Tony's lab, please. Thank you."

"Right away, Director, and Miss Y/N," the AI chortled back, causing your eyes to widen even further. Friday was like a celebrity to you, and now finally you were here, at a place you had only dreamt of being, and the reality was slowly sinking in.

The elevator pinged open, and Fury was the first one to step out, followed by you as the two of you walked into what looked like a really high technology lab. Your eyes marvelled at the sight, and you just looked around, your eyes scanning through it all, your mind still in a daze.

"Welcome, welcome to my humble abode," there he was, the man himself, the man behind all of this, the famous Tony Stark. Although you had met him before, and Steve and Natasha as well, it was back at the SHEILD headquarters.

"Tony Stark, long time no see."

"Well, I've been busy you see," he smirked smugly at you, but soon, a small smile paved its way over his lips and he slowly engulfed you in a warm hug.

"Welcome home, I always did say to Fury."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, side glancing your boss, who was, for a change, having a smile of his own over his lips.

"You always belonged with us, here at the Avengers Towers. He never really let you go," he gave Fury a look and then, his friendly demeanor altogether changed and a professional look took over his face, his features turning stoic. "Now Fury have you spoken to her about her trainings?"

"Not yet."

"Great, so–" Tony dramatically clapped his hands together, "With a great position comes great responsibilities."

"With power you mean?" You chuckled.

"Yes yes. And that," he winked playfully, only to straighten up again. "But that power needs to be harnessed. You will be put into training, like all the newbies we get and we will get to decide when and if you have what it takes to be one of us."

Fury nodded, and you looked at him, noting how he was beaming at you, like a proud father, causing your confidence to boost up as you nodded in Tony's direction.

"When do we start?"

"Hold that thought, ah, Friday? Can you please ask Captain to join us, please?"

"Right away, Mr. Stark." The AI replied.

"Well then, so that fixes it."

A comfortable silence fell over the lab and Tony walked off to look at something on one of his screens. You fixed yourself by the glass staring out at the picturesque view of the city of Manhattan. It wasn't long when you heard heavy footsteps behind you, and finally when you heard Fury greet Steve, you realized he had joined the lot of you. The minute you turned around, your eyes fell on him and with a soft smile, you nodded in his direction, "Mr. Rogers."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Bucky wasn't having the best day.

At first, he had woken up to bone chilling nightmare. If that wasn't all, he had taken his motorcycle out for a ride, and somehow he had parked it when he had reached the cliff, and made his way to the edge to just stare at the horizon, when someone had somehow managed to steal the bike. And if that wasn't the worst part of the day, he was sexually frustrated and utterly sex deprived as he had just returned yesterday from almost a month long mission.

Sam being the nice person he was, had tried to warn most of te people to stay out of Bucky's way today; because today, he was really biting.

But he really hadn't warned you.

Because he still didn't know who you were.

After having met with Steve in Tony's lab, Fury had left, and Steve had opted to walk you around the facility, until he had dropped you off at your apartment on the seventh floor. He had told you that you were to share this floor with a few of the Avengers, but he was in a hurry so he had asked you to come find him later in the evening. Besides, you had to be ready to train with him today at 7 in the evening.

It was already 5 by the time you stepped into your apartment; your eyes widening in awe when you saw the interior of it. The furniture was sleek and modern, made out of the best quality of wood there could be, and the walls were painted a spotless white, numerous abstract paintings hanging on the walls.

You gotta hand it to Tony, the man sure did have a taste.

It didn't take you long to fill the walk in closet up with your clothes, and even after filling up the two bags that you had brought over, you couldn't help but marvel at how much space the closet still had for more stuff, giving you an inspiration to shop for a dozen more outfits. However, now wasn't the time to think about it, and instead you decided to grab yourself a mug of coffee from the kitchen, so you could be alert and fresh for your training session with Captain.

Whistling to yourself, and with the help of Friday, you did manage to find your way to the massive kitchen, adjoining the spacious recreation room that was empty when you reached. Walking into the kitchen, you filled up your mug with piping hot coffee to the brim, and lifted the mug up, walking out of the kitchen.

Little did you know that a mistake was bound to happen on your first day here.

Bucky had just stepped out of the gym, dressed in a tight white tank top and his joggers, his hair all sweaty and sticking to his face. At first he had decided to hop right into the shower, and maybe get a little frisky, but at the last moment, he finally gave up on that idea, having decided to stall the shower for a little more time so he could grab himself a granola bar from the kitchen.

Although his feet made a lot of ruckus as he walked into the recreation room, and towards the kitchen, but perhaps you were so engrossed in licking your lips, eyeing the mug of coffee in your hands that you failed to hear him come in.

You stepped out of the kitchen at the exact same time when he tried to enter, and you ended up crashing into him, your hot coffee spilling all over his white tank, causing a massive stain.

Bucky cursed as the coffee came in contact with his flesh, a faint hissing sound escaping from his lips, which was probably due to the burn that he could now feel on his abs. His eyes turned venomous instantly, and his face contorted in fury.

"Even with a pair of glasses on, you still cannot watch where you going?" He barked at you, in a rude tone.

You looked at the stain on his abs, and then back up at him, not failing to notice the blue in his eyes, mentally cursing yourself for how clumsy you were.

"I – I'm really sorry, I –" You started stammering, only to be cut off by him again.

"Your sorry won't fix the mess you made, would it?" Sarcasm dripped through his words, and now, you were starting to feel how this man was simply overreacting. You spilling a piping hot mug of coffee over him wasn't really that much of a big deal, was it?

"Let me wash it –"

"We have machines that does that stuff for us, you really don't have to bother. Now, if you don't mind, you are in my way," the blue eyed man simply huffed, his face slowly turning cold and emotionless, as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching you and waiting for you to move out of his way. Maybe you weren't that fast in moving; and you understood this when you felt him roughly push himself past you, ignoring the way you fell to your side by the weight of his body, almost crashing against the doorframe and hurting your side.

"Really? Did you just fucking push me?"

This time, you turned around, your eyes contorted in fury, and your lips laced together, in a hope that pressing your lips together like that would stop your curses from flowing out.

"Would you rather have had me jump over you? You aren't exactly small."

He had his back now turned towards you, his body bent over the fridge as he callously moved his hands through the contents of the fridge.

"Prick."

Shaking your head, you took a step away, leaving the now empty mug of coffee on the slab before making your way out of the kitchen.

You were fuming.

(Feedback is always appreciated.)

Want to be added to any of my taglists? Please fill out the form on this link. 💗

[jaskiersvalley]

just read thru ur whole blog instead of finishing my midterm that i forgot about that was actually due on march 17 and can i just say thank u i don't think i've ever enjoyed hours of procrastination this much 💕💕 (also rip in absolute pieces to the fact i actually have to work on my midterm now)

*Looks at calendar* Well, it only took me a month and a half to get to your ask. I do hope your midterm went okay and you managed to get it finished! While I’m super flattered that your procrastination involved my writing, I’m also feeling a little guilty for distracting you. In honour of the time lost and as thanks for your lovely ask, please have some time related angsty shenanigans.

CW for injury and character death (which is rectified through implication and screwing with time).

Time had a funny way of working. The war was in full swing, Jaskier traipsed after Eskel, writing songs about witchers and their deeds. But Nilfgaard had been gaining ground, there were whispers of a witcher with a child surprise that was taken from him. When winter came again, Jaskier couldn’t go to Oxenfurt, he’d been outed as a spy for the resistance and had a considerable bounty on his head. With nowhere else to go, Eskel offered him sanctuary at Kaer Morhen. He’d been there once or twice before, was familiar with Lambert and Vesemir. They often spoke of another, Geralt of Rivia. Sometimes they were fond, other times they cursed him.

This winter was different. A portal opened up one afternoon and a haggard looking witcher staggered through with a sorceress in tow. They snapped and snarled at each other, obviously tied by destiny against their will.

“Geralt,” Vesemir rose from his seat and looked over the two new arrivals. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Cirilla wants revenge.” Geralt coughed. “She thinks witchers stole her childhood. She wants to obliterate us all.”

There were murmurs from the others and they were all clamouring to get more information. In the end, they settled with some drinks so Geralt and Yennefer could explain. Jaskier listened raptly, sat next to Eskel and looking to him from time to time.

“Cirilla is hellbent on destroying and conquering. Nilfgaard had taken her from us.” Geralt looked utterly world weary. More so than a witcher usually did. Jaskier would know, he’d spent enough time with Eskel to pull him out from a mindset of exhausted self-loathing. It looked like Geralt could do with someone too.

“Yennefer and I were too busy arguing, at odds over where Cirilla would serve best. She wanted Aretuza, I thought Kaer Morhen. Anywhere but Nilfgaard would have been okay. But Cirilla had enough. After one too many arguments, she slipped away one night and went to Nilfgaard, probably to spite us. She now rules with an iron fist and has a thirst for vengeance.”

When Geralt broke off, Yennefer picked up, “There is no winning. She’s collected all manner of allies from rock trolls to dragons. The resistance is dying if not dead already.”

“So you came here to die?” Lambert spat, angry.

“We came here for help,” Geralt corrected sharply. “Yennefer and I weren’t enough. But we found a way that might change the future.”

“What could another witcher do that the White Wolf couldn’t?” Eskel asked.

“Nothing.” It was Yennefer who cut in. “But your bard might be what we need. At every key moment in time that Aretuza had been able to discern before it was obliterated, he was doing something significant. Not enough to change the tide of the war. We think that in a different timeline, where he is the court bard of Cintra, he will be able to influence Cirilla. I can create a time stone, he can pick a moment in time to jump back to and try and change this whole mess. The key objective is to ensure Cirilla likes witchers and sorceresses.”

If anybody had asked Jaskier, he would have called bullshit on the whole thing.

“We’ve seen how he worked wonders with witchers in the public, his songs about the Scarred Wolf and his deeds are sung across the Continent.” Yennefer finished. “I will make the stone and have it ready for tomorrow afternoon. So I will ask that we have a decent meal this evening as it shall be my last.”

Silence filled the room before Vesemir nodded. There was no other choice. Contracts were thin on the ground, people were turning against witchers once again and it seemed that Nilfgaard was coming to Kaer Morhen. That night, they ate and drank as much as they could, knowing that it would be their last.

Yennefer retired to a room. There was no fond farewell between her and Geralt but a slight grudging respect. That night, the witchers stayed up late, staring silently into the dying fire, making peace with their lot.

By morning, Nilfgaard was advancing on the keep, humans and monsters alike bore down the path.

“We’ll need to get Jaskier to the eastern clearing,” Geralt said. “Nothing else matters. Lambert, Eskel, you’ll take flank, Vesemir, you’re rear and I’ll take point. No matter what, we get the bard to the clearing with the stone.”

Everything was left behind in the keep, nothing to weigh them down, not like they were going to have anywhere to go from the clearing anyway. It was a dead end and no escape. In a way, it was brave of them to assume they would make it as far.

When Geralt left to retrieve the stone, he looked grim. It was in a bag, glowing red through the material.

“It’s all of Yennefer’s chaos and time granted to her. Don’t waste it.” Geralt shoved it at Jaskier. “We need to move out. Now.”

There was nothing left to do but go. As agreed, Jaskier was in the middle, hemmed in by four witchers. They started off at a light run, determined to get as much distance covered as possible before Nilfgaard caught up.

It started with small attacks. Forktails and dragons trying to pick them off. At least their swords and signs could fend against the worst, even if Lambert cursed at the burns that ended up covering his arms when caught by surprise from the side.

The creatures were gaining on them, while the witchers could pick up speed, Jaskier was a human and had much more severe limits. He panted and gasped even as Eskel tried to urge him on.

“Keep going we’re almo-” His words were cut off with a grunt as a leshen stepped out from the trees, caught him in his midriff and sent him crashing through the woods. Jaskier turned in time to watch a pack of werewolves jump at him, tearing him apart without mercy.

It was a lot harder to run when tears were blurring his eyes. Almost thirty years by Eskel’s side and this was the unfitting end. Jaskier wanted to stop and cry but Geralt was moving on while Lambert and Vesemir took posts just behind and to the side, completing a triangle.

The clearing wasn’t too far now, it couldn’t be. To Jaskier it had felt like they’d been running for hours. From ahead, there was the whistle of arrows and he ran harder. A thump from behind and Jaskier turned, letting out a strangled gasp.

“Don’t turn around. Keep going.” Lambert snarled as he took rear post, Vesemir lost behind them with arrows riddling his body.

Up ahead, Jaskier could see the clearing and he pushed harder, knowing that some kind of rune circle would help him with the time stone. Someone grabbed him from behind and all but threw him into the clearing. He landed with a pained cry and watched just in time for a dragon to snatch Lambert while another attacked Geralt.

“Jaskier!” Geralt yelled. He was on the ground, blood coating half his face, matting his hair. “The stone. You have to!”

With trembling hands, Jaskier pulled the stone out. He could see Lambert’s broken body not far from Geralt and he sobbed. All he had to do was think of Cintra and then he’d be pulled back in time to the point where he could fix things. Because this wasn’t the end he’d hoped for, neither for himself, nor his witchers. The whole continent was a ghastly, tyrannical place. Soon there wouldn’t be anywhere that was free of Nilfgaardian brutality and oppression.

“Please,” Geralt begged and Jaskier looked him in the eyes, watched as he lay there, not even trying to evade the soldier who raised his sword. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jaskier still heard the sound the blow made. He didn’t want this. Clutching at the time stone, he wished and wished hard.

The world shifted around him, years fell away, aches and pains along with old injuries disappeared. Jaskier opened his eyes mid song, in a tavern. He was eighteen again, a whole life ahead of him. It wasn’t Cintra, that was for sure. Some backwater settlement on the edge of the continent. Looking around while singing, he tried to figure out what he was doing in such a shithole. As he spun, he spotted a figure in the corner, alone and brooding. White hair, armour, nobody going near him. He’d recognise Geralt anywhere. Finishing his song and being pelted by bread, Jaskier took a breath. If this was his mission, he’d accept it. Eskel had been a wonderful travel companion but time obviously thought he was the wrong witcher if they wanted to survive Nilfgaard’s attempts. Jaskier took a deep breath, thinking “well then”, it was time to make things right.

[supercalvin]

I've been loving all of the ficlets!!! If you're still taking prompts might I suggest Space + Spy AU?

Literally the best combination you could have chosen. Amazing, spectacular, brilliant.

Prompts + Ficlets

***

Arthur’s boots clunked against the docking bay’s grated floors. He raised his hand to his personal guard, telling them they were dismissed. They bowed to their King, slipping behind until he was walking down the station’s halls on his own. His red cloak billowed behind him as he made his way through the station’s halls, his sword at his side like it always was. Some of the stations crew saw him and bowed their heads as they passed, but for the last ten years Arthur had made Albion IX his headquarters when he was off-world, so none of them were surprised to see him despite the fact that he had been scheduled to be on Camelot’s surface.

His plans had abruptly changed when he had received a coded message relaying some damning intel. Camelot prided itself on its knights, a soldier trained in ancient Camelot weaponry, but ever since the war with Essetir began, Arthur had created another unit to his military. Espionage had never been his forte. He preferred blunt battles, where he knew where everyone stood. Life was never that simple though. That had been made abundantly clear to him when he received intel that one of his spies wasn’t who they said they were.  

Arthur punched in the code to Merlin’s suite, not bothering to alert Merlin of his presence. A few seconds before the door slid open, Arthur heard the tell-tale sound of someone scrambling to clear something away.

Arthur didn’t hesitate, walking into the suite, letting the door slid closed behind him with a mechanical click.

“You’re meant to be on surface!” Merlin spluttered, looking frazzled.

His desk was covered in info-chips and his tools were scattered across the side table. His hair was sticking up and his welding goggles were crooked on his forehead. Despite all this, his red bandana was perfectly placed over his neck like it always was.

“If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have started a project. You really need to tell people these things, Arthur.” Merlin hastily pushed aside some of the chips, most of them falling to the ground. “What happened to the Beltane festivals? Aren’t you meant to be on world right now?”

Arthur had enlisted Merlin as a spy for his tech skills. He could create something out of the barest scraps of metal and wiring. He was also damn good at playing a fool and conning Essetirians out of vital information. Despite appearance, Merlin was Arthur’s best spy.

Arthur wasn’t a spy. He didn’t like lying, nor was he good at it. He had always preferred to-the-point conversations. He had admired Merlin for the opposite reasons. Merlin was a complicated mess of riddles. He was a brilliant liar, but with Arthur he always seemed like an open book, honest and endearing. Perhaps Arthur had played right into his cards.

Arthur stepped forward, “Stand up.”

Merlin made a confused noise but stood anyways. Without warning, Arthur gripped him by the labels of his jumpsuit and pushed him up against the wall. His left arm pinned Merlin against the wall while his right hand reached up and pulled Merlin’s bandana down.

Merlin’s hands scrambled at his neck but it was too late. The bandana aside, Arthur revealed a thin metal collar. It couldn’t have been more than an inch wide, the gold circuit boards embedded in the black metal. Merlin flinched, his hand coming up reflexively to cover the collar.

“Take it off.”

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice wavered, “Let me explain. It’s not what you think it is.”

“Take it off or I’ll rip it from your neck,” Arthur’s arm pressed harder against Merlin’s chest.

“I swear to you,” Merlin started, but Arthur cut him off.

“You don’t get to swear to me anymore,” Arthur watched Merlin’s eyes. They appeared sad and desperate, but Arthur had been lied to before.

Merlin swallowed and nodded. Slowly, he raised his hand, his fingers finding a hidden latch. The gold in the collar dulled and a gold ripple passed over Merlin as the cloaking device turned off.

The first thing Arthur noticed was his eyes. They were bright gold, just as Arthur had feared.

“Please let me explain, Arthur. Please.” Merlin’s voice was the same and Arthur didn’t know if that made him more unsettled or not. Everything about Merlin looked different. It was like the collar had just shortened his features. His ears were longer, more pointed. His face narrower and his cheekbones even sharper. He was even a bit taller, his eyes looking down at Arthur instead of even with his.

“You’re an Essetirian warlock,” Arthur growled. Essetirians’ features were long and thin, but only warlocks had gold eyes. They were rare, almost to the point of legend. They were also very powerful and very much feared by the people of Camelot and Essetir alike.

“That’s how you get the intel,” Arthur said, “You’re one of them.”

Merlin shook his head, “I’ve turned off the collar on missions before, but not always.”

“Have you been sending back information to Essetir?”

“No! I wouldn’t do that to you, Arthur. I swear. I was born on Essetir,” Merlin admitted, as if his features weren’t damning enough. “But my father was from Camelot. I had to lie. I had to. Without the disguise, I would have been shot dead before I even stepped a single foot onto Albion IX.” Gold eyes searched Arthur’s, “I didn’t get a choice in being a warlock or being an Essetirian, but I chose to serve you, Arthur.”

Arthur’s hands were shaking. The war had caused a great divide between their systems. Arthur hoped for peace, that one day Essetirians could walk on Camelot’s surface and vis versa without a war looming over everyone’s head. But he didn’t hate Essetirians. He hated being lied to.

“I trusted you,” Arthur’s voice cracked, and he thought about turning away so Merlin couldn’t see his pain, but he also couldn’t take his eyes off Merlin, still not used to the face in front of him, so familiar and foreign at the same time.

“You still can,” Merlin’s eyes watered, “I swore to serve you, Arthur. That wasn’t a lie.”

Arthur watched in amazement as a tear fell from his eye, shining bright gold, just as the Essetirian legends said. Warlock’s tears could be used for powerful magic or creating indestructible weapons, and some legends even said their tears could heal fatal wounds. As a boy, Arthur had been told stories of warlocks who trained themselves never to cry, some going so far as to extract their own tear ducts entirely.

“I wanted to tell you. Every day I thought I could do it,” Merlin said, another gold trail rolling down his face. “But I didn’t want you to send me away.”

“You’re…you’re crying,” Arthur wanted to reach out and brush the tears away, but he hesitated. Most Kings would be scrambling for a moment like this, a chance to harness all that power, especially when Merlin appeared to be giving it away so freely. He couldn’t have been that stupid, could he?

“Stop, you can’t,” Arthur’s voice stuttered as more tears fell from Merlin’s eyes. “You have to stop.”

Merlin shook his head, more tears falling, “I don’t care. I trust you.”

Arthur’s hands shook as he reached out, brushing away the tears. They felt just like water, but he didn’t linger on them. He brushed them aside and then leaned his forehead against Merlin’s.  “Merlin…You fool. You absolute idiot.”

“Please don’t send me away,” Merlin whispered, his breath ghosting across Arthur’s lips.

“I won’t,” Arthur promised.

***

Prompts + Ficlets

[revchainsaw]

The Descent (2005)

Greetings and Welcome to the Cult Film Tent Revival. Come Worshippers and join me, Reverend Chainsaw, as we partake in the word of the Lord. This week we will be reading from the Book of Neil as we pray and reflect upon the 2005 film The Descent.

The Message

The Descent tells the story of a group spelunkers who find more than they bargained for when they attempt to explore a new cave system. Our cave crawling crew consists of 6 women, foremost of which are Sarah and Juno. Sarah and Juno have a history, mostly a friendship centered around thrill seeking and globe hopping, but a rift formed between them when while returning from a whitewater rafting trip Sarah lost her husband to a logging truck accident. Sarah was left with severe PTSD and Juno made it her mission to get Sarah her groove back.

Unfortunately this is not the fun and fantastic story of gal pals overcoming adversity. Juno's motivations are not quite that altruistic. She seeks to alleviate her personal suffering. Juno was in love with Sarah's husband and the two had been carrying on an affair behind Sarah's back when he was killed. Sarah does not know this, but Juno has been plagued with guilt. In an effort to pay penance for her wrongdoings without actually talking to her friend and confronting her betrayal, she feels she can make things right by giving Sarah a heroic accomplishment by exploring a barely known cave system in North Carolina.

The group soon discover that their are ancient carnivorous hominids who reside in these caves and they are being hunted. The women must overcome the dangers of the cave system, the beasts that dwell in the dark, and their personal demons if they are going to make it out alive. Unfortunately; in the midst of an attack Juno accidentally fatally wounds a friend and leaves her for dead. After being separated for some time and winding up in a cesspool of viscera Sarah learns from the dying girl that Juno had betrayed her. Sarah enters warrior mode and kills Juno and many of the cave dwellers before finally escaping into the Appalachian wilderness.

Now please stand and receive The Benediction

Best Effect: Captain Caveman vs the Teenangels

The Cave Crawlers are definitely a huge selling point of this film. Long before I had any interest in horror films I remember seeing the trailer for this film and with the minimal glimpses I saw of these troglodyte creatures was enough to captivate me, so much so that I remembered what was coming years later when I finally saw this film.

Best Character: Live Fast, Die Young. Bad Girls Do It Well.

Believe it or not, I like Juno. I think she was a flawed character, but that's what made her all the more human. She was a bad ass and a hero for much of the film. She was not ethically unambiguous but I wanted her to uplift Sarah, I wanted her to succeed. The fact that she did not is the aspect of this film that gives it it's greatest tragic edge.

Best Moment: Blood Bath

If anyone has seen the Descent before they will know exactly where I'm going with this. The Killing floor scene. Where Sarah finds herself in what basically amounts to a garbage disposal, a metaphorical pit of Hell. Sarah and a Cave Crawler end up in a violent conflict submerged in a pool of blood and guts before they eventually submerge out of sight. When after an uncomfortable amount of time passes the surface is broken, Sarah emerges triumphant and we the audience feel truly empowered with her.

Most WTF Moment: You Got Knocked The Fuck Out!

For many of the congregation the opening sequence will have cemented long held anxieties about driving behind logging trucks. This movie is like the Jaws of the logging industry. I had one moment though that hit me way harder. Maybe it is just that I'm getting old, but the danger of bonking my head in a particularly rough way, even from not so great a height, just hits me in a very visceral way. There's a sequence where one of the girls bashes her head on a rock and passes out. The force portrayed and the sound effect were very very effective and I let out a very guttural ouch. It wasn't even a kill and it sticks with me.

Worst Scene: Kill Your Darlings (or how I learned to stop asking questions and embrace excessive force)

I didn't know what else to call this because it's not so much a scene but a choice in the script. I found the fact that Sarah murders Juno to be a bit extreme. Maybe if she had simply chosen not to help her do to her feelings of betrayal, but she actively harmed her friend in an act that felt pretty petty, over a piece of shit cheating husband. I never understand why films portray "the other woman" as the villain in affair stories. I mean, yes, Juno betrayed her trust, but murder is a bit extreme, especially when we spent most of the movie watching Sarah struggle over the loss of her husband. There's no point in the film where Sarah wrestles with the idea that her partner whom she had been grieving over in such an extreme way was actually not a very good guy. Instead we are left to put all of our hate onto Juno. It also seemed like having Juno accidentally and understandably struck one of their companions in a fight with cave dwelling monsters seem like a cheap ploy to make us feel like she's getting what she deserves. The writers needed to make Juno more evil, and making tragic mistakes and having common human moral failures is not enough to make a cold blooded murder feel justified. In the end I wind up feeling more like Sarah is a fucking murderer than like justice was served, and since that's clearly not what the filmmakers intended, I think it makes the whole film weaker as a result.

Summary

The Descent is an excellent movie! It speaks volumes about the quality of this film that I can say "The Descent is great to look at" when the movie is this dark (and I don't mean the tone). The creature effects are excellent, the actors portraying them sell it, the characters are engaging and likeable as opposed to just being lambs for the slaughter. The sets are believable. I've already spoken above to the weaker aspects of the film so I won't spend anymore time here doing so. Please join these ladies for a spelunking trip next time you have the opportunity, and give praise to the Cult of Cult!

Overall Grade: B

[sometimesrosy]

Part 1 I've yet to understand why bellarke shippers hate b*cho so much. Like, to me, the fact that it exists is the only proof I need to know that bellarke will get together. I mean if the writers really wanted to put an end to bellarke once and for all they would've picked raven, not echo, as a romantic partner for bellamy after the time-jump. Raven is a fan favorite, and she was already in a love triangle in which a guy chose Clarke over her.

Part 2 Plus, Raven and Bellamy were friends before the timejump and they had even slept together once. So they would've made much more sense than b*cho. But the writers knew that if they had done that, bellarke would've been off the table. So they went for b*cho instead.

I totally agree with you. B/R would have been a death knell for bellarke or a tragedy for raven. B/E is the perfect choice to push Bellarke into an acknowledged romantic relationship.  Notice, I don’t say “canon,” because I think Bellarke IS canon, in the way that Elizabeth and Darcy are the canon relationship in Pride and Prejudice even though they were not together or official until the very end of the book. 

And I think THAT is the difficulty fandom is having with B/E vs Bellarke. Because they are not looking at the story being told as a crafted work of art, intended to convey something intentional. Instead, they are looking at it more as a game in which one side wins and one side loses, like football. 

The narrative is a narrative that tells Bellarke’s long, arduous, tumultuous, complex journey towards being TOGETHER. (And together has been the theme since season 1, and it is represented IN CANON, as Clarke and Bellamy uniting.) Over the course of the show, being “together” has gotten more and more romantic every season, while holding off on giving the audience the resolution of kiss/confess/sex and I’m gonna add one more quality to that audience canon representation. Marriage. Because it is possible that marriage is on the table.

Why? BECAUSE the main story, the underlying story to the whole thing, is the Bellarke love story. And making B/E a canon relationship, and yet denying it development or story on screen, is a clear cut sign that Bellarke is a committed story. 

Why? 

Because B/E has been used as a COMPARE AND CONTRAST to Bellarke as a romance since the moment it became canon, when B/E being together was set up as a shock after watching Clarke alone and longing for Bellamy to come home. 5.01. B/E has ONLY had story that served to further OTHER storylines, Bellarke, the Blakes, Missions, wars, forgiveness. And if it focuses on either Bellamy or Echo, we have seen that neither Bellamy NOR Echo are getting what they need from the relationship.

You simply can’t tell a romance story without TELLING THE ROMANCE STORY. Therefore, B/E is a romantic obstacle to the romance story that IS being told. That is Bellamy and Clarke finding their way back to each other, now as a main plot line.

SO WHY do the bellarkers never seem to recognize B/E as a STANDARD romantic obstacle in the COMMON love triangle trope? This has always confused me because we get this story in fanfic all the time. I myself have written Echo as part of a love triangle and I did it before s5 too. Since s2, actually. So why are we ignoring the completely romantic trope of the love triangle and instead hating B/E so much? When it really isn’t so terrible a relationship, it’s just not the RIGHT one?

I have to go back to the football game analogy. 

They have teams. Bellarke vs B/E. Bellarke is THEIR team. B/E is the enemy. Any points the enemy gains is an assault on their their team. Therefore they hate B/E and they hate the fans of B/E. When B/E has the ball, that’s all they see. And they only count certain narrative evidence as points.

Now if they saw the story the way I look at it (and you too it seems) they would realize that certain things, like a forgiveness scene, “go save clarke,” the cinematography, cuts, music, constant b/e bickering, the jeaousy scene followed by the b/e fight scene, B’s grief, characters saying B cares more about C, The scenes with B and Josephine, bringing Clarke back with his love, even a b/e hug scene where his attention goes back to Clarke, and a final bellarke hug-- all these things add up to points in a Bellarke love story, and they overhwelm the B/E evidence of 5.01, Bellamy fighting for E against O, B/E goodbye scene, war comrades, “who knows forgiveness like us,” and bellamy saying he is forgetting the past (clarke we assume) when echo tells him, finally, about her family dying, and he seems to recommit to Echo... although it then switches to Clarke in danger and all his attention goes to Clarke from then on so I’m not sure we can count that. But that’s the thing. When you’re playing football with the story, you take things out of context, and for some reason, fandom seems to think that if you can convince others that a scene means nothing (Octavia’s “another traitor who you love”) then it doesn’t count. 

The way they count points in the shipwars is to find out who can make the most persuasive tweet/post about their ship. And if they can manage to make people doubt what they saw on screen by rewriting the story to fit their headcanon, then they win. 

Convincing people that what they see with their own eyes is a lie/delusion is actually called gaslighting. 

We see Bellarke happening on screen, but certain antis convince us we are delusional, or being baited, or things like narrative structure, cinematography, themes are made up things that don’t exist. 

Some people believe the gaslighting. They’d rather have a fanwar or believe that JR hates them personally, and have someone to be angry at than... idk... enjoy a show that did not go in the predictable direction they thought it would?

They hate B/E because of the points (kiss/confess/sex.) Because of the shipwars. Because some people try to gaslight us and this makes them angry and they take it out on a character? Because they’re afraid to allow B/E to be valid because of those antis who say it’s real and endgame. IDK. I think that B/E can be both valid and NOT endgame. Maybe because being outraged is the way they fangirl. And so they need to be FURIOUS at someone in order to work up the passion they want to feel, in order to feel like they are part of the in group, someone has to be in the outgroup. (You can actually WATCH as some fans, when their previous enemy (CL? CL fans? remember them?) is vanquished, have to search around for a new enemy. Sometimes they pick another fan (some people picked me as their enemy as soon as CLs went away even though I refused to play,) sometimes they pick the writers, sometimes they pick another character or ship. These are the ones I call antis. They are not so much fans OF a thing they love, but a group of people defined by who and what they hate. The thing that ended my commitment to fandom was when the bellarke fans decided BELLARKE was the thing they hated. I just couldn’t deal with that, as they decided that their headcanon was the REAL bellarke, and what we saw on screen was a betrayal. Me. I liked the story. Still do. And like it better than the headcanons at this point which tend to be more simplistic and trite.

It’s all a mess, frankly. And because there are so many different perspectives on the show and fandom, it’s probably best to not look for ONE answer. There are different subcultures within the fandom culture, after all, and within that, different people have different experiences and responses.

In order to understand how the fans are reacting to the story we have to understand the culture and psychology of fandom, and that is rather complex. And different for many people. I like to understand why people think what they thing, but in the end, I just have to stick to the text and continue to analyze canon without being influenced by fandom which seems to me to often be to WAY off base.