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captain-mj · 1 year

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Hello, do you remember the offering of bones? * hold lamp in your face* Yes you were offered bones for a bad ass Horangi kicking Krüger ass. *slams hands on table* and König was proud of his tiny boyfriend *trows papers on table dramatically*

I actually had yours in the drafts because i started it but like always you understood the goddamn assignment Hiriko so I’m using the new ask instead ☺️

Horangi was... Horangi. Always would be.

On the sparring mat, he and Koenig were evenly matched. It usually depended on if Koenig could catch him. Once Koenig had him, he could pin him down and thanks to his size, Horangi had a difficult time taking control of the situation. On the flip size, Horangi was fast and as long as Koenig couldn't grab him, he could knock him down.

Seeing Krueger rather quickly pin Koenig down made something mean bubble in Horangi's chest. Horangi was competitive by nature. Being one of the few people that could take Koenig down was a point of pride. And this bastard. A few other members of KorTac congratulated him, impressed. Impressed by that bastard.

So Horangi watched him spar a couple more times, paying attention to how he fought. He planned. This wasn't Koenig who he wanted to improve his skills with. They would regularly try new tactics and work to improve. If one got better, the other did. But with Krueger? His only fucking goal was winning.

"Hey Krueger." Horangi said cheerfully. "Want to spar with me?"

Krueger looked down at him. He couldn't see his eyes since he still wore his full sniper hood while Horangi was substantially more casual. He had a black neck gaiter instead of his normal full mask, short sleeved shirt so the scarring down his arms were visible and shorts. Maybe, just maybe, he had purposely made himself look less threatening. It worked.

Krueger tilted his head. "Are you sure?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice and Horangi knew that regardless of what happened, he was going to win. If he had to kill himself to do it, he would.

"Positive! I need to improve my skills against opponents my size," Krueger's face scrunched enough the mask moved at that comment, as if the two inches separating them in height was a huge difference, "and you seem rather skilled."

"If you insist." Krueger walked with him to the mat.

Koenig stopped lifting weights, actually putting them away to go watch them instead. His interest meant Horangi had just another reason in a long list on why he had to win.

They stalked around the center, eyeing each other. Krueger struck out first, managing to strike his stomach and sending Horangi quickly stepping back. His eyes widened and he quickly stepped back. Krueger immediately lunged again but Horangi dodged this time. He started to lead him around, trying to get him to strike out more. Like a stupid fucking fish.

Horangi used his speed to his advantage. Krueger focused on trying to knock him down but he couldn't get close enough.

With no warning, Horangi slammed all of his weight directly into his chest. It was a risky maneuver since it put him in arm's length, but fuck that. The satisfying sound he made as he hit the ground let Horangi know it was worth it.

He quickly retreated, leaving Krueger to swipe at thin air. They traded blows, Horangi aiming for his chest and shoulders while Krueger seemed determined to hit his fucking kidneys.

Horangi leaned forward. "Koenig is watching. Can't wait to wipe the floor with you."

Krueger stared at him and flew at him again. They both hit and dodged around each other, neither able to get much of a blow in until Krueger sent Horangi reeling with a well calculated blow. He lunged at him but Horangi hooked his foot around his leg and knocked him off balance, sending them both tumbling.

Horangi slammed his knee into his chest and then pinned him. He took a deep breath and started counting when Krueger managed to throw him off, rolling them. It wouldn't work on the battlefield where weapons were involved, but it did work here.

Horangi wrapped his thighs around his head and pinned him down, watching him claw at him. Krueger's feet kicked but he couldn't get at him.

"1"

"Dirty fucking move."

"2"

"Barely even got a hit on me."

"3. Now, don't be a sore loser." Horangi kicked him off and got up, exiting the ring.

Koenig immediately grabbed his hands, inspecting them as if Horangi hadn't bandaged them properly. "That was amazing!" He sounded so giddy, eyes full of pride. "I've never seen you fight like that."

Horangi smiled. "Wanted to try a new strategy! I didn't think it would work on you." He pulled his mask down to drink and noticed Koenig's eyes following him. Koenig glanced around and when he saw a bunch of people looking, he changed his mind about whatever it was.

"You really looked amazing out there. You so rarely fight other people, I forgot how lethal you look." He sounded shy and Horangi's heart started to stutter.

Stepping a bit closer, he put Koenig's hood over his head so they were both hiding in it.

"Thank you, yeobo."

Koenig's face was bright red, as it always was when Horangi acted like this in public, but he smiled immediately. He kissed his cheek softly. "I can see why you were named Tiger."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig x horangi #horangi #horangi call of duty #horangi cod #cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #mw2 #könig mw2 #modern warfare ii #cod krueger

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deejadabbles · 10 months

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Okay IDK what happened with my inbox, but I know someone sent this song to me for the song fic game, even if the ask isn't there anymore (i saved it to my drafts while my wifi was wonky so maybe it's in the tumblr aether somewhere?). Anywho, hopefully you see this, whoever you are <3

For this song, I'm going to write Jesse for the first time, and because I have the unexplainable urge to step on this man, you're all getting a slightly dominant reader this time around lol

Warnings for: highly suggestive themes (minors don't look!), drinking, and the sexy shenanigans we expect at 79s

Jesse was not a man easily taken by surprise. It just came with the territory, he couldn't afford to let anything captivate or shock him on the battlefield.

But when you walked in to 79s?

Oh, Jesse knew he would do anything he could to get close to you, or damn if he wouldn't die trying.

You walked in with some friends, but something about you stood out like gold in a sea of silver. He was vaguely aware of Fives nudging him, saying something about your group matching their numbers perfectly, but Jesse was too busy gawking like some shinny.

When you moved by him to get to the bar he swore you locked eyes with him for just a moment. And that was all the confidence boost he needed.

After flashing his brother a knowing look, Jesse sauntered up to the bar, making sure to fill as much space near you as possible- hey, he didn't get arms like pythons and thighs like tree trunks for nothing, after all.

"So, you and your friends want some handsome troopers to buy your drinks?"

He saw the way your brows quirked up, before your eyes or head turned in his direction. Then, those eyes that were starting to remind him of a tiger looked him up and and down.

"Sure, we'll let you boys buy our drinks."

Kriffing hell, that voice! Obviously you were someone who made sure every inch of you, every side, was as captivating as the last. Again, Jesse only vaguely took notice to the fact that Fives, Tup, and Kix were paring off with your friends. Right now, all his senses were taken up with you.

"So," he began, just as the bartender handed you a drink, "what's your name, gorgeous?"

You huffed a laugh, took a sip, then said, "Wouldn't you like to know."

And just like that, you turned on your perfect heels, and walked away from him.

To his credit, Jesse only needed a second to recover, something stirring low in his belly. It wasn't just the arousal he felt anytime he spotted someone he wanted to take home, this was similar but...new. A different kind of arousal, a brand of it that he wasn't used to feeling.

Jesse didn't waste a beat, he followed, gave chase as you swayed onto the dance floor.

"If you wanted to dance before your drink, you could have just said so," he called over the music and putting on his most charming smile. The one that got him comm numbers and little lacy souvenirs to tuck in his pocket.

But all you did was look over your shoulder at him, taking another drink before your hips started swaying. When he didn't back down, you sashayed your body to face him, a look somewhere between disinterest and mild amusement on your face.

"Listen, trooper, I don't want to waste my time, so I'll warn you now: I'm a hard woman to please, so either walk away, or prove you're worth my attention."

That sensation in his belly was flaring, and he felt his grin widen. Making sure he gave you time to pull away if you wanted, Jesse reached out, and gripped your hip. Not breaking his gaze from yours, he drew you in just a little closer. Enough to tease, enough to leave you wanting more.

"Oh, baby, I can do that."

He didn't even know how much time passed that night. Somewhere between the dancing and the drinks, he managed to prove himself enough to tug you into a hallway lit only by a neon sign. He was pulling out all the stops, using every skill his mouth and hands had learned to make you his.

But it still wasn't quite enough.

You hadn't moaned and whimpered like the others, you weren't begging him for more and writhing in his touch like it was heaven incarnate.

And that just spurred him on all the more.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered in your ear, breath hot, armor so painfully tight he might just be willing to beg you for any scrap of guidance on how to make you his.

You lifted your leg, opening up for him, inviting, "I'm sure a smart man like you can think of something," you purred, "Or is that mouth of yours just good at talking?"

Jesse felt all his bravado fall away in an instant. He didn't waste any time in sinking to his knees for you.

taglist: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5

#I felt very powerful writing this and I hope you do reading it lol #jesse x reader #clone trooper jesse x reader #arc trooper jesse x reader #deeja writes

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sea-m0nster · 1 year

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Thought Log.

He curls up against her body and she holds him tight, putting the book she’s been reading aside. She hasn’t seen him for sweeps because he was drafted and he's been home for just a little bit over three weeks.

Meaningless ramblings from Bentiv regarding her partner and the situation at hand.

2688 words. Fluff ish. War mention. Ptsd.

She can see now why he was picked for battlefield leadership. She had always been curious about how he would act in the battlefield and that curiosity had been more than fulfilled for the brief time she was there, and yet she understands even less why it bothered him so much. He can be very vicious and he's a damn good leader! She was under his command, and he's very organized, very down to earth, very competent.

And it's weird.

It was weird.

That's just not the person she's used to seeing.

She's just never seen him do the shift before in person. Something clicked there and he went into leadership mode.

And now he's back home. He hasn't really changed, but he's not acting the same as before, still. She can see how the way he acted back then on the battlefield reflects in the way he's always acted, but right now…? He's somehow both colder and sharper, and she's not sure how to feel about it. Tense, but politely so.

How long was it? Like four sweeps and a half? He’s gone much longer without a break, but it still is very a long time to be away. His last group of students were surrendered to the drones because his appointed 2nd in command didn’t have the authority to have them wait more like he usually has them do. Other students came in. Two entire classes. This means a whole crew didn’t get to meet him before being sent away in the meantime, and the newer class is almost gone again without knowing him at all.

Has it really been that long? he asked.

It has. It has.

Bentiv sighs as she ruffles his freshly cut hair. Shorter, prickly, almost curly. Buzzed at the side the mask’s system attaches to. Buzzed hair feels good to pet. She lightly touches the tiny port above his ear, making his coarse fur stand on end and his fins twitch. It doesn’t hurt, but he doesn’t like it much when people mess with that. It’s funny to her. She goes back to just running her fingers through his hair.

She examined him quickly when he came back.

That gash on his head from the last time she saw him in person – three entire sweeps ago, mind you – was healed, but left a thin scar across his forehead. It would most definitely fade the next molt. One of his horns had been cracked close to the base, but it was already starting to seal up. He had a bit of a limp on his left leg from a bruise, a couple deeper cuts on his tail, his fins are in absolute tatters because of the helmet, but all of it would heal. It would leave no long standing scars. Nothing to remember them by. Knowing the fact that he was mostly in the cannon fodder district that meant that either he was skilled enough to avoid getting hurt (he didn’t flee at all back there! She is still very surprised at that, given his track record) or his armors are just that good. Definitely the latter, she assumes. He did say it was grinding. Literally. Whatever that meant.

From the examination, what worried her the most was his weight. Right now he was probably on the lean side of muscular, despite the width, which for the fighters he was leading is more than desirable, but dangerously underweight for a seadweller, especially one that's been comfortably overweight for most of his life. It's actually pretty harmful for a depthdweller like him: if he needs the extra energy, for whatever reason, molt, injury, illness, he just won't have it. They need to be extra careful for now, she’d told him. It’s serious.

She doubts he had been eating decently then because he's always been so goddamn picky with how he likes things, and he's been barely eating at all for the weeks he's been at home. He still doesn't feel like he has enough energy to cook anything proper, too tired, he says, and he refuses to eat anything he hasn't prepared himself because it's just never quite right.

You need to stop being lazy with the cooking and put some weight on, she said, that’s why you’re tired all the time. He shrugged her off.

He's all sharp edges, tough meat and pointy joints. Claws and teeth and spikes and horns. The soft is gone, and he’s even more uncomfortable to lay on than usual as he refuses to go fully unarmored. She had to actually argue with him so he would at least keep the mask off while she's around so she can at least see his dumb stupid face that she’s missed very much.

He's complying so far. Begrudgingly.

He still has his thick armor undersuit right now and normal civilian clothes over it.

He's got big dark circles under his eyes from the many perigees of lack of sleep and his face looks worn.

Same person, same eyes, same scars. Still different. There's a different feel to it.

He wants people to see him even less, or so he'd told her. He wants to be alone.

You don't count, he said, but there's been enough people on his ass. And he's stuck to it, too. He hasn't gone out at all. He sleeps a lot and keeps himself busy with whatever hobby that feels engaging enough at the moment and sometimes he just sits there staring at nowhere in particular.

She doesn’t even know if he told anybody else he was coming back…?

That’s fine. Less people to be bothered by. She can have him all for herself.

He digs his face into her belly and crosses his arms over his chest, trying to compress himself against her like some sort of animal. She curses him out, asking him to take his glasses off because he’s already too spiky for her liking, so he better take off whatever removable corners he can. He makes a small nose laugh, then does so. Hugs her by the waist.

She's glad he's letting her at least touch him even if it's not all that comfy. It's the first time he lets her touch him for this long since he's come back. Touching things is very important. She likes fidgeting with things.

His hair is wiry and his skin is rough and he's uncomfortable and he's not warm and she can barely feel his breathing, which is weird, but she's used to it. He feels like a very solid and pointy boulder on her lap right now, heavy. Still, she missed it. She missed the weight of him against her. Their talks and their fights and their closeness. He's not like the girls she's used to holding at all. It’s different. He's just himself, her best friend, somebody to trust, somebody to fight with no strings attached. That makes it special, somehow. It feels more.

She knows he feels the same and that she never has to worry about it for as long as they live. Even if they fight.

She also knows he likes her warmth and her softness, compared to his own cold angles. Her outgoing against his quiet. He basks in it. Wants to be close, despite being direct opposites.

When he allows himself to be close, that is.

He's been… cold. Physically and emotionally, now that she thinks of it. Quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet he usually is around her, he's just kind of not all there. He's somewhere else in his head. It's very odd. He replies as he normally does, although with shorter sentences, and his face is expressionless and he gestures around much less and he sounds flat. The flatness drives her insane. The pitch is all wrong. He knows the pitch is wrong, too, it’s all he minds when talking. He sometimes tries to fix it, but it always goes back flat after a little bit. He got used to the formal bullshittery of the fleet again, and he’s having a hard time unwinding, she's assuming.

She assumes a lot of things.

She can’t help but wonder what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t seem particularly depressed or sad or angry, which is what she had expected. It’s what everybody expects really. Come back from war angry at the world and unable to leave bed, pathetic and pitiful. But he’s not that, he’s never been. He’s just sort of apathetic and much more higher strung than usual.

…

She also thought he’d at least look happy about being back home and seeing her again after so long! but he hasn’t. He hasn’t tried to contact any of his proteges either, nor his only living kid. He doesn’t smile at her when their eyes lock together. He doesn't bake or sketch new armor ideas or work on his little pet projects.

He’s not back to being The Armourer yet, and neither of them knows if he'll come back to it any time soon as he's still on the hook for being drafted again, and very soon.

He’s a good commander, a good leader. They need those out there, help expand the empire, help keep the empire safe, they said.

He’s more useful out there with the soldiers than with the students here, they said.

He's on that limbo.

He doesn't want to go back, though. ‘Rather stay here. ‘Rather be with the students and doing administration work and building the guns and setting up warships, but there’s that implicit “but i’m going back either way” there, eating away at the both of them. Not knowing how much time together they still have before he’s sent away again. If he’s sent away again. Oh messiahs, she hopes they let him stay.

Still, he sits there, he plays with the cat that’s still alive and they’ll talk about nothing in particular for a bit, trying to keep the tension away. Sometimes he’ll play a game, she’ll read a book and they’ll just be together in the same room, not talking, not touching. Sometimes she tries to piss him off, just to try and get him to argue with her, but then he just leaves.

Little things that amount to nothing. It’s been slow.

Sometimes he’ll lay on her lap like this for a little bit to rest, or she’ll lay on his to read, or they’ll do it like they are right now, and she’ll play with his hair and his soft, tattered, velvety fins hoping he’ll purr, but he never does, because his mind is somewhere else.

She feels a lot of things about it.

She doesn’t want him to go. She wants him by her side and normal and wrestling her and comforting her and being his stupid little self pretending to be happy and cheery in that annoying way that gets on her nerves. Deep down it does make him happy. Both of them. He likes control and routine. She likes the stability it brings. It just works. Everything clicks in place and it makes it bearable. She’s out for weeks at a time, he’s busy all the time, they fight a lot, but it’s previsible. It’s good. It’s a game they play. It’s just part of the fun.

It’s ultimately not up to them right now, sadly. Unless she kills somebody about it.

(She’s tempted to. Anything to have him around. The mess it would spawn, though? That would piss him off for real. It’s why she hasn’t done it yet. He doesn’t want the extra attention it would bring.)

Still. It nags at her. The entire thing’s made him more detached than usual. He’s never been the epitome of warmth behind closed doors, to be fair, but he just feels much harsher lately, too. That doesn’t really bother her because it means that being the way she is, she hasn’t been trying to not step on eggshells like normal people would do, and if something bothers him he’ll just shut up and leave, no questions asked, and he hasn't complained yet. On the bad side, that also means she has no opportunities to ask questions, request stories or to rile him up to have some fun, which she’s missed a lot. He just doesn’t seem to want any conflict whatsoever and he doesn’t want to go into details about the ones he’s been through, lest it make her want to kill somebody she shouldn’t or bring out bad things. So he goes quiet and leaves. Sometimes he even locks the door of his room if he’s particularly bothered, something he never does otherwise, and it’s extremely annoying.

She sighs, lost in thought. He doesn’t seem to notice.

It feels familiar, to be fair. He used to be more like this when he was younger. He’s not putting on an act this time, he’s just grumpy. He’s crabby, he’s always been in private. He’s not “Armourer” or “Commander” here. He’s her Bat, or Crabs, even, the one childhood nickname that stuck this long. Crabby, yes. Very.

She shifts her position, making him tense up slightly. She lies down on the couch, staying under him, keeping his weight on her chest, putting her arms against his back. The weight is grounding. He doesn’t move.

Still, her mind won’t shut up.

The worst thing is that Bentiv has no idea what exactly is bothering him and so she cannot help. He doesn’t talk about it, he just shuts her down when asked like he always does, but he doesn’t redirect the subject, he just looks at her some funny sort of way, pinching his nose, looking at her like she grew a second head. She knows that it’s got nothing to do with death and killing and casualties because he’s always been weirdly fine about all that despite the fact that he’s a fucking wuss. Maybe something about the power dynamics? That might be a stretch but she’s seen how his superiors treat him and it’s nasty. Still, she knows him well enough, she knows he likes being in control. So what IS the problem?

No clue.

He’s just tired. Tired and done. Done and anxious. Unsure. Scared?

Well, she’s scared. She’s been scared. She scoffs, but she was terrified of him getting hurt and her not being there to protect him, the way he did to her.

She got hurt in the campaign, he took care of her and immediately sent her home.

Maybe he's depressed…? She has no clue. She was kind of depressed.

Going from job to job, planet to planet, mission to mission, ending rebel stragglers, getting intel. From girl to girl and bed to bed to bed to couch to bed to bench, from empty bottle to empty bottle, bar to bar. Never staying still. Never a place to go home to. Never a reason to take much of a break. He’s her home and without him there, the house is empty. There’s no reason to be in it.

See, this makes sense.

But then again, she has her reasons and she's normal. Her motives make sense. It's easy. She felt bad because she missed him and he could've died and he never messaged or wrote or called all that often and she had nobody to talk to for three sweeps, like, really talk to.

And he's just a bit of a freak. She doesn't get it.

She yawns.

Maybe she’s just projecting a lot.

Probably, yeah.

Eh.

One day at a time.

Someday they'll figure this out. For now she holds him a bit tighter, petting his hair mindlessly and feeling the restlessness and the loneliness wash away. They’re both safe and home and together for now. For as long as it lasts.

She missed this.

Here's to hoping at least one of them falls asleep tonight.

#logs.#((hi im not dead. the characters aren't dead.

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icouldntfinditsoiwroteit · 2 years

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Hi I would love to see more of Yandere clone wars , maybe more about Barriss’s and (F/N)’s relationship if not maybe F/N relationship with other cast (if that’s ok of course hope your doing ok 💗)

So, I did some, hope their alright, if you want to know about some other character be sure to tell me

Also, had this in my drafts forgotten so I don't really know how well written this is, still hope you can enjoy

Barriss

So their relationship before the clones going yandere was pretty similar to Ashoka's, they were friends, although (F/N) wasn't in the ship where the whole zombie worms fiasco went down, which was very good since Nakild's would actually be an optimal host since they can resist almost freezing temperatures better than most.

But after the whole clones went yandere, (F/N) was able to escape coruscant not long after escaping the clones since a certain weequay who turned a blind eye to them stowing away in their ship.

It was when the ship arrived at Illum that (F/N) left the ship knowing that the ship wouldn't be safe for long, it was here where they both found each other, Barriss was trying to go underground after Anakin was captured.

(I'm telling you, the man didn't last much before falling for the trap)

They both teamed up in selling the ship Barriss had come in and managed to get another one but smaller, one which was overlooked in many planetary sensors.

After this they began to wander the galaxy, avoiding any place clones may be in and working some bounty jobs, they quickly got themselves some armor so that their identity wouldn't be discovered as easily.

But the small problem is that both the empire and clones are hunting down any and all force sensitives, so on top of having to dodge everyone after their heads, they also help smuggle force-sensitive kids away, in fact, they've almost been captured multiple times but if it wasn't for the clones considering their safety a bigger priority, they've let them escape instead of risking their capture by the empire.

Barriss and (F/N) are in a sort of relationship, both have been dancing around each other for years but both understand that each other's feelings are reciprocated, they just never seem to have actual time to talk about it, it's more of a silent agreement.

I will go deeper into this in future updates.

The lucky squad

So, during the war (F/N) wasn't really a commander since that was Cody's position and Obi Wan didn't think it would be a good idea to give them such a position so early on.

Instead, they were assigned a scouting squad, being in charge of them and dealing with reconnaissance missions mostly, but there have been time they were sent to the other side of the battlefield due to their small size.

But for this to work they had to trust each other with their lives, something that developed fairly quickly, their friendship quickly developed and when I tell you the reader cried when they chose their names.

Their names are in order of who got theirs first.

Carp

Carp is the eyes in the sky of the group, he also doubles as the sniper, he has two sets of scales painted on the back side of his armor, the bigger ones as that of a carp and they are closer to his legs while the smaller one representing the reader's are closer to the head and in the area where the heart is.

Red

The leader of the squad just after the reader, he is the glue of the group, and alongside Carp was the first to get close to the reader

Acorn

He chose this name because he actually likes eating those at almost any time and while his old squadmates had taken to calling him squirrel it had never truly fit him so he changed it

Rabbit

He actually has a rabbit's foot tattooed on his left arm, it was the first animal he killed when the squad was cut off from the rest of the GAR on a planet for a while

Clover

The last to choose his name, he is the most reserved of the group and was the last to open up to the reader, he only chose his name after they got rescued from the planet they had been stranded on.

The group was very tight during the whole war, but after a while they all developed feelings for each other, the reader was troubled by the power imbalance and worried these feelings would cloud their judgment, they had planned to get some counseling on what to do after the war, but was never able to due to the clones going yandere and them needing to escape.

Anakin

Even if the reader met him many times since Obi-Wan and Anakin are almost always stationed together, the reader never paid him much attention, and while Ashoka and the reader both would always bicker about who was the best master it never turned into anything but teasing.

But there was always something that almost repelled the reader a sort of putridness that made (F/N) never feel completely at ease with him.

Obi Wan

The reader's master, he was always there to guide (F/N) on the right direction, when the reader got to annoyed and blocked themselves he would come up with some sort of constructive criticism and help the reader figure things out.

He is more than a friend and is someone the reader trusts completely.

Ashoka

Both were crechemates and attached to the hip, you never saw one without the other unless they were up to something, when they were both assigned to a master both were ecstatic and promised each other that they would comm each other daily.

During the war they weren't able to talk daily of course but they would talk as much as possible when they were both together they once again became attached to the hip.

When Ashoka lost her flying squad it took a great hit on their relationship and it never fully healed, while the reader didn't blame Ashoka they were never comfortable leaving the lives of their squad in her hands, and even after the clones went yandere the reader still didn't trust Ashoka with other's lives.

Cody

The reader saw Cody as a second mentor, while he never intervened in any lesson he would add some comments and always offer to spar with the reader.

He was someone who the reader went to many times for company, when things became to much, they would both simply sit together, say nothing but always keep each other company.

#the clone wars #yandere clones au #asks and replies #barriss offee #ashoka tano #lucky squad #oc stuff #anakin skywalker #obi wan

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how-grand-trine-au · 2 years

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Ilya Ginoviev Backstory

Zarya Ginovieva was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, on a cold winter night, barely after the clock had struck midnight on December 26th, 1996.

Her parents never really wanted a second child, they already had a first born son, Vadim Ginoviev, only 5 years earlier. Zarya had been unplanned, and unwanted, the second her parents knew she was a girl.

Nevertheless, Zarya was always an overachiever. Always striving for more, to be bigger and better, while also keeping quiet and to herself as much as possible. It was the only way she knew how to keep her parents proud, or at the very least, not comparing her to her older brother.

As she grew, she realized that femininity wasn't something she strictly aligned to, but neither was masculinity. She grew beautiful long hair and a tall, muscular frame.

She even grew taller than her own older brother, who teased her out of jealousy, "Zarya is a girl's name, you're nothing like a girl, I'll call you Ilya instead"

Vadim had no idea that his younger sibling wasn't opposed to the idea, in fact, they rather liked the name.

Ilya kept quiet, and adopted the name as their own, it felt better, more suitable, and big brother had chosen it.

While Vadim was always jealous of Ilya's physique and intelligence, Ilya always looked at their big brother as a role model. Their parents were always pestering Vadim to become a doctor, so he went to university to become one, only to fail exam after exam, postponing his graduation date every year.

Ilya always knew they wanted to help people, they wanted to be useful, and their nurturing nature led them to try and go to med school as well. Their parents wanted them to be a nurse, but Ilya went for more. They became a Medic and a General Surgeon by the age of 25.

Vadim was fuming, he was surpassed by his own baby sibling, he was supposed to be the head of the family, but he was a failure, and Ilya was perfect. Their parents even started to treat Ilya with more respect than him, and started to compare him to them: "Why aren't you more like your sister?" It enraged him. So he decided it was time for payback.

War had broken out between Russia and a neighboring slavic country, and people were being drafted. Vadim took this as an opportunity, and enlisted Ilya as a combat medic, without telling anybody about it.

One morning, the military came knocking on the family's door, and took Ilya away without word or warning.

Vadim proceeded to lie to their parents, saying that Ilya had been arrested for treason, and sentenced to death by the Russian government. Their parents were devastated, but knew better than to question their rulers, Ilya had always been the odd one out, and nowadays, even voicing your opinion on the streets could get you arrested. Vadim's plan went just how he wanted it. He knew Ilya would never want to take part in the battlefield anyway, and would eventually either get killed in battle or by the government because of Ilya's lack of cooperation.

But Ilya was no fool.

They were deeply hurt and disappointed at what their brother had done, he betrayed them, sent them to die in the trenches. But Ilya did their best to survive.

After combat and firearm training was over, Ilya was sent to the front, Russian soldiers were dropping like flies and there weren't enough medics around. Ilya hated to be there, they wanted to help everyday people, families. Not the corrupt government that sent poor soldiers to die every day.

They have had enough, enough of the sounds, smells and sights of war. They didn't want to kill another human being, even if it was in self defense, any more.

They fled, and became a deserter in self-exile.

When they got to cross the Russian border, they took the first plane available which happened to be destined for the state of Louisiana, USA.

With nothing other than their military gear and backpack, Ilya boarded the plane and decided to never look back.

They had no home anymore. But they were set on finding a place where they could grow roots, a place where they would finally feel peace.

Taglist: @rottent33th @slaasherslut @the-pinstriped-hood @allthingsblood @texaschainsawslvt

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax au #oc #ilya ginoviev

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floundrickthewayfarer · 1 year

Note

I would absolutely ADORE a 'director's cut' for Homecoming. I have not stopped thinking about it since reading it!

The concept itself is just incredible and then the stand off when they're trying to get Echo out of there and come face to face with Fives who is rightfully very worried about why these strangers are trying to steal his brother!!!! I loved every second of that story.

<3 I'll do my best to give you a "behind the scenes" view of what went into this one!

Homecoming was a fun one! It was originally going to be one of those "Sith artifact sends them back in time" fics, but I decided that I didn't care enough to make up a reason for the time travel, so I intentionally left it really vague.

I had a few "types" of time travel that I kicked around before settling on them just traveling back into their younger bodies. In one, it was temporary, and they had to race to find someone to warn before the time was up. In another, they were sent back in the middle of a battle and had to fight to find each other. I had another scene, which I really liked the idea of, but didn't end up fully writing out, in which the Batch lands on a battlefield strewn with wounded and dying clones and can't find Echo among the other identical troopers.

In the first draft/outline, Fives and Crosshair actually get into a fight, and then Tech stuns Fives. Wrecker then tosses him over his shoulder, and they go back to the Marauder to talk it out. It was a much more hostile exchange, but I decided that having Crosshair deck Fives wouldn't be the best start to their relationship, and I wanted the focus to be on the conversation, not on them fighting.

I loved writing that scene where Fives and Crosshair have their little stand-off. They're both very protective of Echo, which I think means that they become best frenemies after this exchange. ;) (I honestly have been thinking about writing a follow-up chapter or two to show them interacting more, but we'll see.)

I did so much research for the medbay scenes in this one (not that it shows too much in the finished product.) When Echo is sedated, I tried to make sure I was referencing the correct type of drug, and that everything the medic says makes sense. In theory, I used the words "benzodiazepine" and "norepinephrine" correctly.

In my first draft, Echo doesn't have a panic attack the second time he wakes up with the Batch and Fives. However, when my friend proofread it, they said it felt rushed when Fives and Echo hugged and had their tender little moment. Thus, I pushed Echo into a more panicky mental state when he woke so that he could have that moment with Fives. :)

General Kenobi showing up was also a pretty late addition, but I wanted there to be a feeling of hope at the end, for the reader to know that everything was (probably) going to be okay in the end. Anakin definitely doesn't inspire that confidence, so I decided that Fives and Echo, as ARCs, could be on loan to the 212th so that Kenobi would be the one to help them.

So... yeah. That's Homecoming! I really enjoyed writing it, and I'm delighted that you had fun reading it! I hope you liked this behind-the-scenes look. Thanks so much for the ask! <3

#director's commentary #This was fun!#any excuse to ramble about my writing

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samatedeansbroccoli · 2 years

Text

Jackets

Sophia sometimes wonders what her father would think of her.

For @flufftober prompt 1: wearing each other’s clothes. It’s 11:59pm at the time I drafted this post and this feels like a school assignment I finished just seconds before the deadline. But I really wanted to participate in flufftober this year so that’s why I stayed up to write this.

Read the fic on AO3

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Characters: Sophia Conteau, Freya “Wraith” Harvig

Tags: Hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: 1.7K+

Shaking fingers wrapped carefully around the phone, picking it up from where it sat on the landline. An old phone that no one used anymore but still served its purpose as flawlessly as its golden days. A phone she's used multiple times before throughout her teenagehood, always opting for the traditional over the new. Hours spent holding it up to her ear and waiting until the other end peeped to signal a message.

“Hello, this is Édouard Conteau. Leave me your name and your number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks.”

A youthful recording. Playful. Aimed towards an American accent for easy understanding but still hints of French dipped around his vowels. She remained still as the recording came to a close and the answering machine waited to record anything but her silence.

Only when the clock ticking on the wall beam to disrupt the silence in her mind did she finally hang up.

It's funny, she thought, how she used to hate phones as a child. Once bearers of bad news. Of empty promises. Of something that confirmed her requests as nothing but wistful hopes put into words. The chime of a called taught her anxiety. She learned to ignore the rings and deal wth the scolding she received for ignoring her parents.

Now, she'd grow anxious if she didn't call to hear her father's answering machine.

Sophia picked up the phone again and dialled the same number as before, listening to her father's answering machine again. In all honesty, his recorded voice was far from exciting, hardly representing the various pitches he spoke with. It lacked his charm or irritation he carried upon his personality.

But it was the only thing she had left to remind her of his voice. How he always tried to pick up the phone when she called, regardless of what he was doing. How they would sometimes talk through the night, her telling him stories, and him hating knowledge of the battlefield or of any subjects she had taken an interest to.

She could only recall a handful of times he didn't pick up the phone, thrice for a business meaning that required his full attention, two because he didn't want her to hear him murdering merchants sent after him, and one because he was in a coma.

He struggled to be physically there for her. And he always apologized for it. But she never got the chance to tell him he made up for it through his phone calls.

Now, she'd never get to tell him.

Without him just a call or arm's reach away, no armor could save her from the cold that pierced her heart.

If her father was here, would he be happy with her? He never wanted this future for her. The life he had lived.l passed down.

Yet here she was.

Sophia listened to his voice again, only becoming aware of the shuffling behind her after she hung up. Daring not to turn around, she tilted the phone slightly until she saw the reflection of the person in the door. Only then did she put the phone away for good, body locking into a mild on-guard mindset as she spun around to face the blonde woman at the door.

"I see you're also hiding from Makarov," said the other woman, making Sophia mentally groan.

"He's on another one of his rants?"

"Yeah. Thought you were avoiding him here like me."

Sophia chuckled. "Not intentionally. But thanks, Freya. I appreciate the heads up."

Freya smirked briefly before crossing the room with delicate steps. Only then did her face slip to a concerned gaze, one Sophia didn't like to see too often. "Are you feeling alright."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Your face and actions say otherwise." A quick scan concerned Freya's suspicions of the truth. "You're shivering."

"It's cold."

Freya held her hand out. "May I?" And Sophia nodded, fingers carefully intertwining with Freya's. Normally Sophia avoided letting anyone touch her, wanting everyone at arm's reach away from her if she could afford the space. But today she longed for a warm and welcoming contact with someone.

"Your hands are freezing, Soph. Let's go to your room and get that armor off. "Let's get the armor off. That's probably doing you no good."

Sophia complied. They walked through Hacienda a few hundred yards and avoided Makarov before arriving at Sophia's room. After shutting the door, Freya helped lift the chest plate over the brunette's head, then unclip the vambraces before finally focusing on the shin guards. Neither spoke as they went about removing the pieces of armor, save for any coordination requests from Freya before manipulating Sophia's limbs. And each time, Sophia permitted her to.

Only when all the armor pieces lay upon the ground and Sophia had retrieved her leather jacket from the closet did Freya finally speak. "How many times was it today?"

Sophia would rather have not talked about how many times she had called her father's messaging machine. Some days it was worse than others, but in the little that she did have from her life, it was the only thing that she had that remained pure and untouched by the corruption around her. It was her crutch, and Freya knew it well, making her a possible target.

And yet still, she was thankful Freya asked, even the answer wasn't ideal. "A few times." And she took a seat upon the bed, inviting Freya to sit next to her.

Silence wrapped them, neither able to figure out where to start the next topic. Not until Sophia caught Freya looking at her jacket.

"I don't think I've ever seen you wear a jacket before," commented Freya.

"I usually don't. I'm always in my armor."

Freya's eyes trailed up the seams of the jacket until Sophia reached her arm out to let the other touch the leather and marvel at the intricate yet slightly imperfect details. "Where did you get this? They barely make any good leather jackets anymore, and I've never seen one with this stitching this."

"This is my papa's." Sophia said. "Custom made. He would buy cheap clothes then some material to fix it up and make it so he liked it more. He gave it to me when I was still barely as tall as it."

"Didn't know your father had an eye for fashion."

"It was his dream to impress a fashion model someday."

"And did he?"

"No. Never for his chance."

"Oh. Sorry." Freya fell quiet.

"It's okay. I know his taste in fashion was never what would end up in runways but I always hoped a miracle would happen."

"It looks great. He did a great job."

"Wanna try it on?" And Sophia slipped it off her shoulders.

"Sure. Wanna try mine? It's a jean jacket with down."

"Sure!"

The two swapped jackets. Unsurprisingly, Freya's was quite tight on Sophia, though it hugged her body in a way she liked, even with the pinching. Freya, on the other hand fit perfectly into Sophia's jacket, draping it off her shoulders and letting the sleeves cover her hands.

"How do you have the worst circulation in the world and yet your father made one of the most comfortable and warm leather jackets?" Freya wondered aloud.

Sophia only smiled. "It's a Conteau secret."

What followed next was a string of compliments—sometimes insults—as they admired one another. Sometimes adjusted the shoulders or tugged at the sleeves. And when the novelty wore dry and the silence settled in, they fell back against each other, Freya tucking her head into the crook of Sophia's shoulder, and Sophia resting her chin against the top of Freya's head.

From this position, Sophia's skin lapped up the warmth of Freya, a warmth so familiar and comforting it was hard to remember where her mind had drifted to moments ago. Sure, her father lingered upon the front of her mind, but maybe just maybe he could see her from where he rested. And maybe he was smiling at her, happy to see her at peace in this very moment. Even if she could hear Makarov yelling from a distance away.

"Hey, Freya?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think my father would say if he saw me now?"

"I didn't know him when he was alive, but I'd say he'd be very proud."

Sophia scoffed. "For dedicating my life to hunting an masked man. Sure. I'm living the very life he didn't want me to."

"Wasn't really your choice was it?"

"I had a choice," Sophia reminded her. "I could have learned to live the dream he wanted for me in honor of his memory. Not his life."

"What was his dream for you?"

"To give me a better life so I could live my dreams."

"So are you sure he's saying he'd be disappointed? Or is that just you speaking?"

Sophia thought for a moment, rolling Freya's words through her mind. "I'm not sure anymore. It's been so long..."

"Ten years, right?"

"Ten years. You'd think I'd be over it by now. "Move on. You'll get over it. Everyone's got dead people, your situation's not special." You know, all the things people tell you to comfort you."

"Most people don't also have their father begging the enemy to take care of their daughter if something bad happens to him, only for the other to abandon both father and child in the middle of a battlefield."

"Well when you get that detailed... but you know what I mean."

Freya simply chuckled. "Yeah. Bet you got pretty tired of being lied to. "It will all be better in the future!" Sure, Vladimir. Thanks for the reassurance."

And that got Sophia giggling. "Yep. He told me that. Fitting for the man who killed his own family for the inheritance money."

"Then used it to bribe himself off trial," finished Freya.

"Now he uses it to buy hair dye so he looks like he never ages."

"And here I thought that would explain why our operation budgets are excessively big every mission."

"If it means we'll find Ghost and I get to kill him, he can spend as much money as he wants on hair dye."

"Then we have Makarov help us find Ghost. And when we finally kill him, you'll finally be able to live that life you've always wanted."

"Thanks. Though I'm not sure how an education in gunsmithing will get me far."

Freya only smiled. "A professional gunsmith can make a great living. But i know whatever happens, you're destined for great things. But right now—"

"Let's find that poltergeist. Together."

#call of duty #Sophia conteau #freya wraith helvig #call of duty mobile #CODM

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sakiaii · 9 months

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Armored x Magic girls ‘title forever work in progress’ story 10 finale because i posted story 10 by mistake as i didn't realize it was a fresh post and not saved as draft post so now i have to write the final here

"and if someone threatens this peace you will gather together as you did today"

and that's why the royal castle banner has just a shield

10 years later (idk if anyone realized but i don't have names for kingdoms i've been calling then 1st,2nd,3rd, darkness, technomancers)

..10 years later in the kingdom of darkness, royal castle, throne room. unshaven dark haired king (the commander) sits on the throne in front of the gathered subjects. on the right from entrance we see crimson castle and Arch Crimson, Crimson Night together with her apprentice future Crimson Midnight. next to her the head witch and her 4 apprentices but we only recognize the 3 ladies from the present here and can't even see the face of the 4th hmmmmmmmmmmm. across on the other side first to throne are necromancers their leader with a heavy coat standing next to his daughter present day leader (we see his portrait in hallway in 4th series finale in the scene at necromancer castle) behind him the Oni and the 2 sisters present while behind them werewolves and their general.

ancient red eyed vampire steps into the room and walks to the kings left and tell him it was done, it has begone.

1st kingdom is about to attack and gathered are strategizing a trap. realizing the royal castle would be the juicy bait they wish to make a weak opening to it. king refuses as that would mean sacrificing people but necromancer leader says they've been scouting his castle and discovered nothing you can not kill a necromancer he will lead them into battle under royal castle banner instead and play dead. to which his daughter comments you can not kill a necromancer unless you know he is a necromancer. one has to wonder now seeing how the people doing the trap are/were alive in present and those going to battle are not. So necromancers under royal banner will go straight south, Crimson castle and witches east while Oni and werewolves will go west. and so it was necromancers on the south played dead, Crimson castle crushing it on the east but on the west nothing. suddenly future Crimson Midnight shows up on the south battlefield as necromancer leader accuses her of trying to ruin the trap she informs him how this already is a trap and by kings order they've been send to help. on the east Crimson Night and head witch are commenting how it is too easy? sus, and on the west the 1st kingdoms army there just casually passes and leaves the woods behind them as people start exiting from the darkness looking in that armies direction and then turning the heads in the other direction.

1st kingdoms real army was walking behind and on the south necromancer leader starts shouting "necromancers rise" as they stop playing dead and start attacking soldiers above them. situation on the east is now equal and this army has a mvp dark haired female dressed in white that's a sword master she's completely unstoppable and goes into air flying straight at the 2 leaders when the general werewolf jumps at her. 2 leaders are now laughing as Arch Crimson comments "I thought it was weird that the king sent werewolves with the clan as they need no help" "but he predicted that the Crimson castle would be the bigger target so he wanted to trick the scouts" now the general looks at the woman's sword on the ground but as she is closer to it orders attack and joins the battlefield with his werewolves, little did he know that women hurt her back in the fall and can't get back up so she teleports to safety leaving the sword. (yes it's the enchanted from series 6) Arch Crimson picks it up and gifts it to a servant. on the west a short flash of light and the army that was let through rushes back and only finds weapons on the ground and traces of battle, nothing else.

and now on the south an army lead by an old wise sorceress, something on the sky flashed as if lights going towards royal castle. necromancer leader ask Midnight "you said we" to which she replies "yes" and he's like "do i need to cover my ears" and midnight is like yup and uses magic so the 2 of them can't hear anything and necromancer starts waving the sword looking at the sky with the other side being confused. but then on the night sky there is movement as if there was an invisible carpet there and now boots, then legs going through it as the rest just falls down turning into coat on the women now descending in the sky and then she released a scream that made everyone on the battlefield fall and the scream lasted until her boots touched the ground and now she is just walking forward. soldiers around either can't get up, are throwing up, either way everyones ears are ringing and the man shouting retreat will soon switch to waving the flag as he can't even hear himself. sorceress on the ground shouts mercy but the women walking just ignores her completely as she steps on her and just continues going forward. that women was the 4th witch.

at the royal castle, well remember the first scene in 4th series but this time there is a cloaked women wearing what looks like green uniform underneath and she tells the king "they're here" "you know what to do" as she leaves for the dark corner where the entrance is and now magic girls wearing that same uniform in different color enter (read series 4). as the king gives the sign raising his fingers the cloaked women that had her scepter prepared this whole time does the spears attack.

#AxM #Story 10 #first era #Story 10 finale #eleventh post #11

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ererokii · 3 years

Text

Warmth of your Touch || Eren Jaeger

➳ Eren Jaeger x Fem Reader

Word Count: 4K Warnings: contains spoilers from season three Taglist: @jaegerbomb20 @sleepysnk (message to be on it in the future)

➳ Note: This is from my canceled december event and it was just laying around in my drafts, i might start posting more of those! Also ignore the typos and such, this is HEAVILY UNEDITED.

The members of the Survey Corps couldn’t remember the last time they let loose and had fun. Around here, everyone was on their tiptoes, waiting for any enemy to strike. Really, all of humanity was like this. But the Scout Regiment was the first line of defense, and they always went underground first before anyone else.

Many casualties swept over the brigade. The return to Shinganshina hit hardest. With the Beast Titan arrival and the fight put up by the Colossal and the Armored inflicted more damage than any group of titans could. With the death of Commander Erwin, and the retrieval of Reiner by the Cart Titan and Zeke, it wasn’t right. With the soldiers returning back home, it was quiet. No one dared to speak another word.

Only 20 or less able bodies made it back home to their families and were lucky enough to see the rays of the sun and breathe in the air that the Earth gave them. Too bad others were left on that battlefield on that day, their bodies becoming one with mother nature once more.

The days slowly but surely started to get shorter as summer turned to fall. The colors of the leaves changed for the season, right on time. The hot sticky air turned to crisp, and more damp. The sky let out it’s tears and covered the earth with grey blankets more often. The sun was hiding behind the clouds, as the fluffy white shapes overtook the sky. The rays barely peeked through them, unable to give light for the day.

With the help of Eren’s new hardening technique, he was able to make a new weapon that saved many soldiers from here on out. Hanji was enraptured about it. This experiment, that was a success, was all she could speak about. Nothing else mattered in her mind, and Captain Levi knew that as well.

Eren was pushed to the brim with this. Day after day, night after night, the boy was exhausted. They pushed him beyond his limits for the technique. Sometimes, he was in and out of consciousness. His titan form decreased in size, his bones would crack upon another transformation to the point where he couldn’t even stabilize himself with his own legs that had the width of twigs.

Fall soon turned over for the year and gave the duty of the seasons to Winter. Winter came rather hard, and quick at that. The harsh winds sent chills up and down the soldiers' spines as they paid their respects to their fallen comrades. An assortment of bouquets were placed in front of the many grey stones that represented a daughter, a son, a father or a mother.

The dirt underneath the boots of the breathing was moist from the rain. The crunches of leaves was the only noise that rang in a soldier’s ears, despite the sobs from others.

Eren couldn’t help but carry the burden. He felt as if it was his fault for their deaths. Their sacrifices, only to keep him alive and well. Humanity’s Last Hope. With the newfound memories from his father, he knew that everything laid in his hands.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The seasons passed as they always did. Life in the walls became busy once more. In a year, the Scouts were able to wipe all the leftover titans in Wall Maria. This meant old residents of this wall were able to return to their homes and start all over again. There was nothing wrong with that, but it meant that the fight for their land was over.

Everyone seemed to show gratitude towards the Scouts. At first, they hated the soldiers who would risk their life to put an end to the Titans reign of power. Called them ‘fat pigs who lived off of our hard working money’. Many soldiers of course took offense to this, but decided to stay silent. After all, they were right about the hard working money. Their earnings were the only things that allowed them to have the supplies they needed to survive.

Winter approached once more to the soldiers of the Survey Corps. Adjustments were made as they needed to happen. Hanji, was appointed as the new Commander of the regiment. The news of humans being Titans spread like wildfire between every man and woman in the walls. The children stayed oblivious.

The outside word began to shine brighter if possible. The world was rid of the filth that the Titans had left behind. The grass was able to dance in the wind as flowers began to grow from the soil. Animals were able to come out from years of terror, finally realizing they were free. Even though the man eating creatures weren’t attracted to animals, the sight of any being over an average height could place fear into the hearts of anyone, including living creatures.

The gust of wind blew against the windows of the rooms in the headquarters. Despite everything being closed, the nooks and crannies were able to fill the once warm shelter, making it cold and gloomy.

The Levi squad, that consisted of those left over from the battle at Shinganshina, were put to cleaning duty. Of course, that’s what you guys always did when Captain Levi felt it was time for a new cleaning, which was about every other day.

Currently, you got stuck in a room with Sasha and Connie. Your job was to clean the room, wipe the shelves, mop the floor, wipe the desk that was in there, make sure to sweep the room as well. It was a lot of tasks for a room that was meant for one person.

A hum vibrated in your throat as you stood on your tiptoes, using a rag that was given to you by the Captain, to clean the upper shelves. It wasn’t even that dirty. You would give it at least another few days before it needed to be cleaned. It was like Levi had a secret eye for spotting microscopic dust particles. It was absurd to say the least.

Behind you were the other two, Connie and Sasha. They did do their work! They actually helped, but for some reason they decided nothing to. You could hear their giggles and the clanging of their broomsticks knocking against each other. The buckets getting knocked over with dirty water didn’t help either but hey, if they got in trouble that was on them. Least you were doing your part.

Maybe you could laugh from your room as you watched them run until their legs fell off, begging for mercy as the hot sun burned against their backs. It always amused you when the Lieutenant stared up at them, unamused.

You flinched when you heard Sasha let out a screech and a cry of anguish discharged from Connie’s mouth.

“What are you guys doing?” you questioned as you swiveled on your heel, turning to face them. Connie’s ass had met the floor, a hand against the floor to keep him upright and the other on top of his head. Sasha on the other hand, still had her arms raised in the air, a look of revelating shock on her features. They seemed to be playing ninjas again by the way Sasha had her leg up and bent in a right angle.

“She hit me, that's what she did!” Connie abruptly stated, looking up at the two girls in front of him. “You promised not to hit me! I never hit you!”

“It was an accident Connie! Your head just happened to come into contact with my hand! It wasn’t intentional, honest!”

“What’s going on in here?”

Your eyes widened as you held the wooden stick with a vice like grip to your chest. Your heart began to beat a bit faster than usual. Your posture straightened up as you turned around to look at the short man.”C-Captain Levi!”

The said man looked up at you, then turned his head to Sasha and lowered his gaze to Connie, who was still on the floor. No words were exchanged as he took a step back, realizing the mess that occurred. The cleaning supplies were scattered across the floor, the mop and brooms were on the floor instead of the hands of Sasha and Connie, and not to mention the dirty water was spilled and engraved into the rugs. Yeah, they were in deep shit.

Without warning, Levi made a ‘come forth’ motion with his index finger, to the pair, glancing his silvery eyes to your stiff body. “Keep cleaning, I’ll make Eren come help you.”

“Yes sir!” you saluted him as fast as you could, internally shaking as the three of them walked out of the messy room. As soon as they left, you could hear yelling from the corridor and their terrified squeaks.

A huff escaped your lips as you bent over, picking up the spare cleaning supplies. Looks like it would be awhile until someone else came to help you.

He said Eren right?

At the name of the boy, your face heated up as you shook your head rapidly, ignoring any thoughts of them. It was often that the brunette invaded your unconscious mind and overtook every crevice of it. His eyes were absolutely beautiful. They had to be your favorite part of him, besides his personality. The way the irises shined in the sunlight, the rays giving them an ethereal look. His lashes complimented them. They weren’t long, but they weren’t short. Whenever he stared at you, you swore you could just lose yourself in them.

His appearance was changing. His hair became longer and rested at the base of his neck. His shoulders began to broaden as he got a bit taller as the year passed. His loud mouth quieted down as he became more realistic with his goals. He was still the same driven boy you met three years ago.

“Hey.”

Your jaw slacked as you looked over your shoulder. Eren was standing in the door frame, as he looked down upon you. It took you a second to realize what position you were in, on your hands and knees with your back facing him. Scrambling off the floor, you swiftly fixed the shirt and pants of your uniform. “H-Hi Eren!”

Fuck you probably embarassed yourself in front of your own crush. He probably thought you were a weirdo.

“Hi Y/N,” he spoke calmly and walked into the room, brushing a strand of brown hair out of his face as he placed a hand on the desk, using it as leverage to crouch and grab a mop. “They made a big mess huh?”

“Yeah they did..they always manage to get themselves in trouble. Kinda shocked..how they lasted this long in the Levi Squad.”

An amused noise came from Eren as he looked out the window, squinting his eyes. Without speaking, he advanced forward to the glass and moved the curtain out of the way. “Well would you look at that..”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s snowing,” he muttered and took a step back, letting the drapes loose from his hands. “Wonder how they’ll get punished.”

“No way it’s snowing?” you asked, ignoring his last words as you rushed to the window, placing your hands on the cold glass. You had just finished cleaning it, your hand prints would now be stuck to it. “Wow it is,” you whispered, a joyous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “We should go outside right now.”

“Now? Are you crazy? Captain Levi would punish us twice as hard than those two! We could probably be on our deathbed if we don’t get to work!”

“Oh hush up Eren! When was the last time we were able to have fun huh? Years right? Literally! Live a little!” you exclaimed, tossing the stick on the floor.

The brunette grumbled in protest as he shook his head, his strands of hair following his movement. “Thanks but no thanks. I rather live my life peacefully.”

An annoyed groan left your lips as you approached him, your lower lip jutting in an agitated pout. “Come on Eren. Please? For five minutes I promise! Levi is probably on the other side of headquarters right about now!”

He turned his head to the side, his eyes piercing into yours. His eyes were dull, but the curve of his lip meant otherwise. His fingers slithered around the silver pole of the mop, the pads of them moving up and down slowly as if he was thinking about it.

“Guess it can’t be helped,” as dramatic as he was, he let out a loud sigh and dropped the mop of the floor. “Let’s go. Before Captain Levi rips us a new one.”

“You’re the best Eren!”

“Uh huh. Now hurry up!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The two of you put on your winter coats. It was the same one as the ones you were given in your cadet years, just a bit more efficient. The hoods were over your head as you walked beside Eren in the falling snow. It could have looked like any soldiers left the building. Soldiers with no chores, is what you guys were going for.

“I think we’re clear now,” you said as you took your hood off, looking around the vicinity. Eren glanced down at you and did the same, running a bare hand through his hair.

“Well go crazy then. You brought us out here,”

“Shut up Eren,” a huff of air passed your lips, the fumes becoming visible to the eye as it turned to mist and disappeared. Your eyes wandered across the dark clouds in the sky, small white particles falling from the insides of them. The grass that you walked on, began to get covered by the blankets of snow, the crunching increasing underneath your boots as you moved an inch or two. Your fingers itched inside your pockets, begging to touch the white mess.

The tip of your nose began to grow cold as you let out a sniffle, scrunching your nose as well as your upper lip in the process. The cold was nothing compared to this though. Honestly, you wouldn’t have minded coming with someone else, but something about Eren made it ten times more special than a random person.

Eren watched you from his peripheral vision, staying silent as the shock and awe look on your face was enough for butterflies to appear in his stomach. You looked like a child in a jewelry store in Wall Sina. You had to have seen snow before, but it was just in the moment that made you look adorable. His cheeks burned with a rosy red as he looked away from you, craning his neck upwards to look at the grey blanket of darkness. If he looked close enough, he could see the sun trying to peek through the stubborn clouds, but to no avail, it could not.

He fluttered his eyes shut as he exhaled slowly, letting the days stress wash away from his body. Eren was exhausted. Emotionally, and physically. His body was used for experiments constantly, he rarely took breaks as he mentioned that he had to be ready for whatever. Emotionally, he hated his power. He hated being a monster like everyone said he was.

He attempted to be normal on so many levels. At first he knew he wouldn’t be better than those ugly creatures that used to roam the land. The townspeople weren’t his biggest fans. They tried persuading the Military Police to shut him down when he first found out about his shifting ability. It was horrendous. He just wanted to be seen as normal amongst those that were classified as a regular human being.

He tried so hard, yet no one could listen to him. He couldn’t see himself as human. In his eyes, he was disgusting. He was ugly. He was a monster.

Oblivious that Eren was in his own state of mind, you decided to take a moment to admire his looks. His eyelashes rested peacefully on the top of his cheeks, small puff of air exerted from his lips as his shoulders heaved up and down slowly. The tiniest of snowflakes landed on his supple skin, and melted away automatically from his warm body temperature. His hair started catching the fall snowflakes. The pieces of the small ice crystals scattered across his locks. He seemed like a snow angel, literally. The tip of his ears were a faint red, freezing from the cold atmosphere.

He was alluring. You wanted to know more about him. You craved to hear his deepest of secrets that only you would know. You desired for him to be by your side, and for you to take care of each other. The only person that knew of your crush on the boy was his friends, Mikasa and Armin.

Mikasa seemed to notice right away. In your third year of training, she took notice that you were more upbeat when Eren was nearby or you would try your best to be partnered with him, if she wasn’t already. Sometime in that year, she had approached you straight up, with the same look on her face and said--

“Do you like Eren, Y/N?”

“W-What do you mean?! Course I don’t like Eren!”

“You’re lying.”

She was in fact right. You begged her a hundred times not to bring it up to anyone, especially Eren. You would have rather been eaten by a titan, spit out and get devoured once more instead of having to confront Eren about your feelings. And of course since the universe loved messing with you, Armin happened to walk in on the moment you were begging with mercy and got curious as to what you were speaking about.

“Y/N, do you like Eren?”

“No Armin, why would you think that?!”

“Yeah she likes him.”

“Mikasa!”

At the embarrassing memory, you didn’t notice that Eren had already been staring at you, knowing that you were gazing up at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you in any way! Why are you looking at me like that?!”

“I asked you first, Y/N!”

Panicking, you quickly bent over and grabbed a clump of snow, modeling it into a sphere as you muttered things under your breath. He couldn’t know why you were staring because you wanted to kiss him, oh god no he could not.

“Y/N?”

“Shut up!” you said quickly and threw the ball of snow at his face, a sound of shock leaving your lips when a noise of surprise left Eren as the sphere slid off his face. He blinked rapidly a couple times, small clumps of white stuck to his eyelashes, making his eyes more alluring.

“Did you just…”

“Yeah I did..”

It was silent as he crouched down, staring forward but not at you. His hand dug into the blanket of snow and modeled a ball, letting out a shaky sigh. His nose has gone incredibly numb already at this point. His fingers dug into the delicate shape as he made eye contact for a split second before winding his arm back, and brought it forward with full force.

Before you had a second of protection, the ice crystal came into contact with your neck, the shape exploding upon contact and sending pieces flying. Some even fell down your coat and into your uniform. “Eren what the hell?!”

“What?” his grin that has been gone for too long, made its way back onto his face once more. Your heart fluttered at the sight. He looked like his old self once again. As much as you wanted to admit it, you missed him. You missed Eren. “shouldn’t have done that if you weren’t ready for a comeback huh?”

“Oh it's on,” you grunted.

Little kids is what you became once more. Your shouts and his laughter could be heard miles away from headquarters. Shots of snow were being sent back and forth from either side, some hits being successful, others not so much.

Both of you had to have looked the same by now. Your eyelashes were damp from the melted crystals, as well as chunks of snow staying on top of your hair. Your nose was frozen off as the snow came down a bit harder than you expected, but you didn’t care.

It seems like hours have passed since you’ve come out here with Eren. Chores were forgotten in the back of your mind as your smile seemed to brighten by each second. It was sure that the water stains in the room dried, but left a foul stench in there. Captain Levi would for sure come and hunt you guys down for leaving your job unfinished.

A loud laugh left your mouth when Eren tripped over a covered branch. His body folded as he fell forward, a yelp withdrawing from his lips. His face came into contact with the snow, his body leaving a decent sized human hole in the ground.

“Eren are you okay?!” you called out for when you stopped laughing, small puffs of air leaving your mouth as you walked over to his limp body.

He grunted as he pushed himself up, giving you an annoyed look. “Yes I’m perfectly fine,’ he grumbled and shook his head, reminding you of a dog as the pieces of snow fell off of his head.

“Run.”

Puzzled, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at him in curiosity. “I’m sorry, did you say run? Run for what?”

“Five.”

“Eren what the hell are you talking about?”

“Four.”

What the hell was he on about? If this was another one of his ramblings from his father’s memories, you would personally knock him out and tell him to quit it. But there was a different look in his eyes. His eyes were squinted, small creases formed at the corner of his eyes, a mischievous look in his orbs. His fingers clenched around nothing as he slowly got up from his position.

“Three.”

Realization hit you like a wagon being pulled by horses as you took a step back cautiously, a small lump forming in your throat. Yeah, no. You rather not be crumbled to the ground by a boy, who weighed more than you. That was a death sentence.

Instead of running, because you wanted to be cautious of any possible injuries, you decided to speed walk in the direction of the doors that led to the inside of headquarters. He couldn’t try shit if you were already inside. God, why was Eren like this?

You didn’t even hear the crunches of the shoes from behind you as a pair of arms wrapped around your midsection and knocked you down onto the ground. With a sharp intake of air, your back collided with the pillowy bottom as you wheezed for air. Your eyes widened when you realized how close you were to Eren.

His hands were by your biceps, caging you underneath him. His brown locks fell forward, but they weren’t long enough to tickle your face. His cold breath fanned against your face as you felt yourself drown in his eyes. His eyes glanced down at your lips before looking into your eyes. He felt all of his willpower from keeping him sane.

It seemed that his body moved on his own as he leaned down lower a fraction, as if he was getting ready to kiss you, but came to terms that it might not be the best idea. You took notice of it as you moved suddenly, bringing a hand up to his hood and pulled it over his head, making sure it covered his eyes. Your other hand raised up to his face, cupping the swell of his cheek as you leaned forward, pressing your cold lips against his own.

His whole body tensed for a few seconds before melting into the kiss. His eyebrows furrowed as he sat you both up, cradling a hand behind your neck as if to bring you closer. Your hands moved from his hood to the front of his coat, your fingers curling around the material. A new sense of heat seemed to wash over your entire body. His fingers danced on the base of your neck, shivers running down your body, not only from the cold, but from his electrifying touch. With him being at an advantage, his forehead pressed up against yours. Your fingers weaved into his hair, slowly running up to his scalp, desperately trying to stay in the moment.

He began to get shaky as he pulled away slowly, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth in the process. His eyes fluttered open as he took a look at your face. It looked like you were struggling to open your eyes after the kiss. It made him a bit prideful when he noticed this.

“Open up,” he whispered, tapping your cheek with his fingers, a boyish smile on his face. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, a hazy look in your orbitals.

“Hi Eren,” you forgot where you were as you glanced around the area, realizing you were still in the snow. “..I’m a bit cold.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he responded as he looked over your shoulder before pushing himself off of the ground, lending a hand for you. Gratefully, you took it as he hoisted you up.

“Do you think Captain Levi found that we weren’t there?”

The boy stayed silent as he thought for a moment before shrugging. “Who knows. Maybe he did and he’s looking for us right now. I think we should go back then, before we get punished,” he muttered and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

You stared down at his calloused palm rubbing up against your own. His hand was different. It was warm and it made you feel safe. Who knew a connection between hands was more than enough to know about your requited feelings.

“Eren I like you,” you blurted out, your face heating up as you looked down at the ground, listening to the crunches underneath your feet as you advanced forward.

“Yeah? I knew already.”

“Huh?!” A look of bewilderment and a choke of air was all you could express at the moment. Who betrayed you.

“How—“

“Mikasa,” he interrupted, a hint of smugness in his tone. “I asked her to find out for me last year.”

“Mikasa?” You whispered, voice wavering. You remember that she swore to not tell a soul, not even him.

“But it worked out right?” He asked and looked down at you, a grin on his face. “You should really thank her one day. She may be silent, but she knows what she’s doing.”

You rolled your eyes as you nodded, hugging his arm close to your chest. “Yeah you’re right. Maybe we should both thank her. She does save your life after all.”

“Hey that’s one thing I would not do. I never asked for it!”

Your laugh could be heard from a few feet away in the midst of the snowfall. Fog began to cloud the outside word as you held onto Eren as a guide.

Upon hearing your laugh, it made Eren feel human again. His heart was beating faster than normal, a sign that he was feeling another emotion besides fear. The touch of your hand set a fire full of adoration within him.

Unbeknownst to the two teenagers, their short Captain watched with his hard eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. He had just checked up on Sasha and Connie, who were cleaning the stable and happened to come across the scene not too far away from him.

Instead of deciding to approach the pair and punish them, he let them have their fun. Even if Eren was one of the most hated people in all of Paradis, even the most hated deserved to have someone warm their heart.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren jaeger imagines #eren yeager imagines #eren imagines #attack on titan imagines #shingeki no kyojin imagines

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captainjimothycarter · 3 years

Note

Towards the end of WWII they were knowingly drafting boys as young as 14, so little they were dwarfed in their uniforms, and didn't want to be there but they were sent out there as basically canon fodder anyway. I've always had this sorta fic image of Peggy and Steve coming across one who's cowering instead of fighting, in tears, in a complete panic because he's barely a teen and terrified. The split second choice ordering him to take off the uniform, Peggy putting her own coat on him, hiding him as just a random wounded civilian when they realize he's an orphan, doesn't have anything to go back to. Not for the adoption angle, but for Peggy using connections to get him a new name, a new identity, to give him another chance in New York, and gaining a fairly fierce defender. Or where Dugan says she basically adopted a slightly feral cat, and Peggy tells him to shove it.

AHA I KNEW THIS WAS STILL BURIED DEEP. Wellll thanks to not being able to sleep and just needing to write after not being able to for a week. I kinda wrote this. It doesn't match your prompt so i'm sorry.

“Cap, it’s clear.”

Steve didn’t exactly need the reply and three whistles from his right to tell him what he could see from the battlefield down below. They had a plan for these sorts of things. He handled the big guys, the tanks, the men with the glowing weapons, and the Howling Commandos handled the ‘weenies’ down below.

Often it was a game of mind tricks, making their group seem larger than the half an army they were facing. Stomps in the snow, sounds of twigs breaking around them. More than one gun being fired off at once, using echoing mountainside to their advantage.

More than half the time it sent some men running with tails between their legs just to be met with the end of a shield as they ran right into Steve’s trap.

More than half the time he could hear the Howling Commandos whooping and holler down below.

This was not one of those times.

Steve grunted as he hit the snowy bank with a roll of his ankle, frowning as the last of the smoke from a dismantled gun was whisked away by the cold breeze. They’d done good work of making quick kills and hiding the bodies before any tracks could be laid in the snow, letting the freshly fallen snow cover up any tracks and streaks of blood.

They’d done good work, all except for one.

“Uh, Dugan,” Steve mused over his shoulder, not looking away from the trembling pile of clothing. “You forgot one.”

“Did we?” Dugan called back, echoing far too loud as he stomped over to them, the snow reaching up to their ankles. “I told Barnes to - Shit, Cap that thing is still alive.”

“Dugan, be nice. That thing is Steve Ro-”

“Bucky not now,” Steve murmured, shutting his best friend up. He held the shield in hand as he slowly approached the trembling clothes. He nudged the solid pile with his foot, aware in the back of his mind that this could be a trick and he was walking right into it.

Steve felt like he’d been hit in the chest by a stack of bricks when he saw the figure sit up and the coat he was using as a makeshift blanket had fallen away. A kid. It was a fucking kid under there. A baby-faced twelve-year-old with red hair poking out from under his hat and freckles dancing across his pale cheeks. He looked almost a shade of green as those blue eyes clocked his, widening comically wide with fear.

The kid squeaked and threw an arm up to cover his face. “Don’t hit me! I-I-I-”

Against what might’ve been better judgment, Steve found himself putting the shield on his back and dropping down to his knees. He held out one hand towards the kid and forced a smile on his face. “Hey, hey, I ain’t gonna hit you.”

“He’s gonna hit me!” The kid pointed past Steve and towards Bucky or Dugan. It was hard to tell with how much his finger was shaking. “He said he wanted to punch every German soldier in the face!”

Steve shot a look over his shoulder towards the pair before softening it to look back at the kid. “Dugan? Barnes? Nah, don’t worry about them, son. They’re just big goofballs. You got a name?”

The kid seemed to think for a second, sitting up the rest of the way. The oversized hat fell from his head and into his lap, shaken fingers wrapping around the fabric to pull at it. “No,” he finally muttered. “They never gave me a name at the orphanage.”

“A sickly-looking kid?” Bucky muttered into Dugan’s ear. “An orphan at that? That’s playing right up Steve’s alley. I don’t trust this to not be a trick. Call Carter, she has better judgment than any of us on this and can get into Steve’s head.”

Overhearing it but still ignoring Bucky, Steve sat fully on the snow-covered ground and frowned. “An orphan? I was an orphan too after my Ma died. Well, since you don’t got a name, you want one?”

“I…” The kid’s baby blue eyes started to well up with tears, frantically rubbing at them to try to stop the tears from showing. “Why ain’t you killin’ me? I don’t get it. I’m the enemy. The-the guys said that you would kill us and that we were fodder!”

“Son,” Bucky sighed, standing beside Steve and kicking at a bit of snow. “We ain’t gonna kill you, at least not yet.” He ignored the look Steve was giving him. “But you gotta tell us something. Who in the hell are you? Did Hydra send you? Why are you wearin’ that uniform? That’s-”

“I know what the hell it is,” the kid snapped, feet kicking up snow as he struggled to stand. He was drawfed in these clothes, sleeves and legs rolled up enough to free his hands and feet. “They pulled me and the others from the orphanage! They didn’t care if we were 12 or 13 or-or even 10! They told us that we were gonna be put in the army and I was unlucky enough to be headin’ in your direction! I just...I was a coward and ran soon as yall started hollering and fighting. Fell over the rocks...and just laid there, pretended to be dead. Hoped you wouldn’t see me.”

“Now,” a familiar voice behind Steve said, “I don’t see any cowardness in knowing you’re in something way over your head and doing what you can to protect yourself.”

Steve tried to school his face as he turned to see Peggy behind him, wearing her all-black uniform and hair pulled back into a braid. The only color to stand out on her was her trademark red lips.

She held her hand out to pull Steve to his feet, squeezing his hand just twice to let him know she was okay and to let her handle the situation.

“Alright, boys, it looks like we’re making camp a ways back and we got an extra guest tonight.” When Bucky opened his mouth to argue against her order, Peggy shot him a look that dared him to try. “Any questioning on young Travis can wait. He’s nothing but a hungry boy right now, aren’t you?”

The boy looked up, tears still sparkling in his eyes. He sniffled once and shuffled his feet, a socked foot coming out of the too-large boot. It was clear he was made to wear an adult uniform when he still had his baby fat. “Yeah, I could eat.” The growling in his stomach said otherwise. “I like the name Travis.”

“Are you insane?” Bucky hissed a few hours later, “He’s the enemy!”

“He is not, Barnes. You’re being ridiculous. It’s not unusual for the Germans to grab young boys, especially orphans to do their dirty work like this. You heard Travis, he was supposed to be fodder and had the unfortunate or, rather, fortunate luck of running into us today,” Peggy countered.

Her hand dropped down to Travis’s red curls, gently combing her fingers through his hair. After three bowls of broth and what had to have been a near whole loaf of bread, the poor kid was asleep in her lap. His feet tucked into Steve’s who was nearly just as smitten with the child.

“Yeah? Did your codebreaking skills tell you that, Carter?”

It was a rude thing to snap, but Bucky felt like he was to his wit’s end. The entire camp could love the boy and fall for this rue, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t that gullible.

“That and my observation skills,” Peggy smarted back. “I’m not telling you to trust him, Barnes. I can understand why you can’t, but you at least need to trust me and Steve on this. He’s not going to harm a fly. I’ve tried every known code in the book to see if he’d react in the middle of conversations. Nothing. He was too weak to even feed himself earlier!”

“And it’s all a ploy to win your hearts so he can stab you in your sleep. I don’t trust him and I don’t trust the fact that you two are falling for this! If you get stabbed in your sleep, don’t complain to me.”

Steve sighed as he watched Bucky stalk towards the edge of camp where Jones was keeping watch, shaking his head. “I can see where he’s coming from but at the same time…” He looked down at the newly named kid, Travis, and couldn’t stop the smile. “Out of all the carnage, at least we saved one kid. Your contact say anything?”

“I only just sent the message a few hours ago,” Peggy replied, covering Steve’s hand with her own. “No, not yet. I suspect by the time we’re back in camp I’ll have a message waiting for me.”

“I thought this would hurt less,” Travis sobbed, holding onto his shoulder and rolling in the snow. He was trying to keep the hysterical sobs and the panic down, swallowing gasps of cold air. “I’m sorry, you thought being shot would hurt less?” Dugan snorted, picking the kid up as gentle as he could and bolting with him out of harm’s way. He could hear the bullets bouncing off of Steve’s shield as they ran out of the line of fire.

“Y-y-yessss!” Travis groaned, a bloodied hand gripping at Dugan’s uniform. That shade of green was not a good complexion on him.

“Kid, there’s some logic I don’t want to know.”

“Is...is Sargeant Barnes okay? I-I was only trying to push him out of the way! I’d heard the-”

Dugan groaned as the kid upchucked today’s hurried breakfast on him, trying to ignore the smell of half-digested peaches.

“Bucky will be okay,” Steve panted as he ran beside them and offered to take Travis. “You did a brave thing back there, Travis. You saved Bucky. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna make you okay.”

It took two men to hold him still and Peggy singing some song in French before Gabe was able to work the bullet out of Travis’s shoulder. They managed to make a makeshift sling out of one of their shirts for him to support his arm. It was better than nothing and would do until they got back to camp.

“How is he?” Bucky asked later that night when the fire was nothing but smoldering ash and everyone but Steve was asleep.

Steve adjusted his back on a tree, shield, and rifle just within reach. He waited for a beat before replying, tilting his head back to see Peggy and Travis curled up together in a tent. “Alive. He blames himself for not remembering the route and ambush. Blames himself that he pushed you so you ended up with a concussion - how’s the head?”

“He blames himself for my concussion?” Bucky blinked twice, trying to make sure he understood and this wasn’t the concussion speaking. “He saved my life. He took a bullet for me! That kid saved my life. I’m...not upset.” He sat beside Steve, drawing his legs in. “I’m grateful. He saved all of us today. Maybe he ain’t so bad.”

“I told you,” Steve mused, passing over the flask of whiskey Dugan had left with him. “You’d come around to the kid. I’ll be sad to see him go.”

“What the hell is this?”

Col. Phillips was glaring over his reading glasses at the shrimp wrapped up in two layers of coats, one he recognized as Carter’s. “Did you go and get a mascot, Rogers?”

“No, sir,” Steve replied, clearing his throat. “This is just a wounded civilian that we found, we-”

Peggy sighed, cutting Steve off. She loved him, she truly did, but Steve was not the best at lying. Ever. “Sir, can we have a moment?”

Phillips’ brow rose but he said nothing as he looked around at the few people still standing near his office. He waved them off, having Carter shut the door as they sat the shrimp of a freckled kid in his office chair.

“Well, Agent Carter? You have the floor. Explain what this is.”

“This what has a name,” Travis mumbled. “It’s Travis. And I don’t got no last name on the account no one wanted me. ‘Cept these folks. And I ain’t no mascot. I don’t think. They haven’t really told me what my purpose is other than to annoy Sargeant Barnes.”

Hell was freezing over, Peggy decided because Phillips was smiling at the kid. She shared a look with Steve as the guy laughed, hitting the table and leaning back into his chair.

“You got some spunk in you, Travis! I like you, I like you, kid. Now, you two, what the hell happened?”

Phillips sat there with a look on his face as Travis nursed a cup of hot tea, looking between them after they’d retold him everything. How Travis came about. How he took a bullet for Barnes, the information he was able to relay on remembered maps and meetings he’d stumbled in on.

“You still got your contacts down in the States?” He asked, watching the kid punch down the coats to make a makeshift pillow in the chair. “I want you to get in contact with them. Have them help this thing. I’ll keep running interception on everything else.”

“I’ve already contacted them while in the field,” Peggy replied in a soft tone. “Until then we’ll keep him safe. They promised to do everything - the paperwork especially. It’s his specialty and him and his wife were looking to...acquire.”

“I think he’ll be a good match,” Phillips replied. “You know...kid reminds me a bit of you, Rogers. Small and scrawny and in good need of a sandwich.”

“Har, har,” Steve grumbled. “Kid just needs some TLC - I think the Jarvisspecial should do him some good.”

“Welp, kid, it’s official,” Howard Stark sang as he rounded in the seat. “You’re in California. Normally, it would be New York but I think you could do with some sun on your skin.”

Travis frowned as he looked out the window to see a couple standing near a car. The only people out there. The gentleman was tall and had a kind face and had his arm around his wife.

“Will I get to go to New York soon? Mr. Rogers and Miss Carter promised-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Howard sighed, dropping into the seat beside him. “Hey, you’ll get to see the folk heroes again, alright, but war...war isn’t a place for you. Ain’t a place for anyone. Peggy just...wanted to give you a new start. You deserve that and I know you’re nervous but those folks down there? I owe them my life many times over. Besides, Mr. Jarvis down there, he makes killer banana pancakes.”

Howard tried not to chuckle at the light sparking in Travis’s eyes. Banana pancakes were normally the deal sealer for anyone. “You’re gonna be fine, kid, and once this war is over, you’ll get to see them again and thank them.”

“I just didn’t get to say goodbye and I don’t want them to think I’m...not grateful ‘cause I am! I am grateful! I just…” He swallowed, throat bobbing. “What if they don’t want me? What if the Jarvises hate me? What if-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Howard laid a hand on the kid’s good shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Trust me, I haven’t met a fella that Edwin or Ana hates yet. You’re gonna be okay. They’re gonna love you. Did you get everything, right? Passport? Papers? Oh, wait, no, Jarvis has those.”

Travis laughed as he was slowly lead off of the plane and into the warm California sun. He could get used to the sun after so many months spent in the cold. He followed Howard as he was lead towards the waiting couple, half a step behind the genius. He shyly looked around them, biting his lip.

“Hello,” the tall man said, holding his hand out to him. “I’m Edwin Jarvis and this is my wife, Ana. Miss Carter has explained the full situation and you are more than welcomed in our home, Mister Travis.”

“You must be famished,” Ana sighed, watching the pair shake hands. “Come on, let’s go home, darling. And Edwin can fix you his famous banana pancakes.”

“Those sound amazing,” Travis groaned, his stomach growling in agreement. “I think I could eat a horse at this rate.”

“Then we’ll make you a horse-sized pancake,” Jarvis agreed, ushering the pair into the car. “I think that’s doable, don’t you?”

#Steggy #StevePeggy #Bucky Barnes #Howling Commandos #Jarvises #Surprise! Adoption #Kinda #Look its just fluff #and its my birthday so legally you HAVE to like it #Steggy Prompt

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eyayah-oya · 2 years

Text

Current AUs of mine!! (An Incomplete List)

(Feel free to ask me about any of them, though I might have talked about them before)

Manda’Jetii Temple (aka Mandalorian Jedi AU)

This is the time travel fic that I wrote for 212th Appreciation Week and the first chapter is up on my patreon. Basically, several members of Ghost Company end up de-aged and back in time thanks to the connivings of Tarre Vizsla.

From the Shadows, Hope Rises (aka Shadow!Ahsoka)

Ahsoka was chosen as the padawan of Master Sephjet Josall when she was 11. When she was 16, her master was killed in the Battle of Geonosis at the beginning of the Clone Wars and she was assigned to Anakin Skywalker. But her training with Master Sephjet left her with many skills a Shadow needs and Ahsoka continued that training as best as she could despite Anakin’s lack of knowledge about Shadows. This leads to several surprises and twists throughout the war.

Shon’laar (Sirens AU)

The Kaminoans spliced the clones’ DNA with the last remnants of the native species on the planet, the sirens. With their genetic manipulation, CCs had powerful voices that could push their men further and inspire them, though it wasn’t a true siren song. CTs we’re far more susceptible to the CCs song, leaving them more obedient, at least in the Kaminoan’s eyes.

Time Travel Fix-It with Rebel Ahsoka

While running from Palpatine in the World Between Worlds, Ahsoka is pulled towards a different portal and ends up in the middle of the Umbara campaign. She faces off against Krell and reunites with people she lost decades ago. She also works to defeat Palpatine before he can complete his plan to become Emperor and destroy the Jedi.

General Ahsoka AU

When she went undercover on Zygerria as a slave, Ahsoka didn’t know she’d spend the next year trying to break free and rejoin Anakin, Obi-Wan, and the 501st. She finally escapes and is able to reunite with the men she cares for. Unfortunately, Anakin and Obi-Wan are on a mission and are unable to be contacted for their own safety. While Ahsoka is recovering, Palpatine decides now is the perfect time to get rid of her and sends an assassin to kill her. The assassin is caught and then Fox’s chip is triggered. He attempts to kill her, is stopped, and Ahsoka finds the chips. She and the clones work to undermine this plot without tipping off the mastermind behind it.

Raining Damnation (Mij Gilamar stand rise up!)

Years before the war would have started, Mij treats a clone and in the process, discovers a chip in his head. He, with the help of a few alphas and some brave CCs figure out that each chip contains orders that are meant to override the will of the clone. Mij is furious and storms Kamino, taking over the cloning process and killing any Kaminoan or trainer that gets in his way.

Courier AU

The couriers have the most dangerous jobs. When all communication is jammed and vital intel needs to be spread, the couriers are sent into battlefields to deliver information (and occasionally supplies) to the troops and generals fighting. But because the Jedi Knights and Masters are generals, the job has been given to the Service Corps, many of whom don’t have experience fighting at all. The couriers don’t last long.

Ahsoka always knew she’d be Plo’s padawan. Everyone in the Temple knew she’d become his padawan once she was old enough. However, right as he was going to start teaching her, the war started and Plo did not want to put her in the middle of fighting. They agreed that she’d go to the service corps to be safe and he’d take her as a padawan once the war was over. Unfortunately, as one of the few members of the corps with lightsaber training with several masters and with the lack of numbers, Ahsoka was quickly drafted as a courier.

Mandalorian AU (developed with @ninjatwins)

This is an au where there are no clones. Instead they are natural born Mandalorians. Based off of one of my fics I’ve already written, this is the story of how Cody becomes Mand’alor and how the True Mandalorians defeat Death Watch and make a treaty with the New Mandalorians.

Mer AU (also developed with @ninjatwins)

The Vode is an enormous clan of merfolk that primarily live on coral reefs. They’re peaceful up until they’re attacked by strange and powerful enemies from the deep oceans. Overwhelmed with more and more of his people being killed in every battle, Cody sends a few mers he trusts to chase an elusive myth of a clan of mers living in the vast ocean. Bacara, the clan leader of the Forwards (name pending), agrees to help and he and his clan along with the Jedi (shapeshifters and surface-dwellers) are able to defeat the sea witch Ventress and discover the leader of the nearby Republic was behind it all along.

Thorn/Padme AU 1 (developed with @aerykai)

Padme and Anakin have a huge falling out. She’s pregnant and scared, especially since Anakin fell after she officially divorced him. In an effort to protect herself and her children, Padme and Sabe turn to the people they’ve been able to trust since they entered their lives. Fox and Thorn immediately offer their help and Thorn volunteers to go undercover with Padme and Sabe. They leave Coruscant under new names, with Thorn posing as Padme’s husband, protecting Padme and her twin sister Sabe. They bounce around the galaxy in an attempt to confuse any pursuers and then settle down on a remote planet in an even more remote town. Thorn and Padme fall in love, especially when she sees how much he cares for her and the two kids that have yet to be born.

Okay this is already ridiculously long, so I’m gonna leave it here for now. Again, feel free to send me any questions you have about any of my aus (I’m not feeling well and my computer keeps crashing so I’m *bored*)

#lizzie rambles #lizzie’s aus #shon’laar #from the shadows hope rises #manda'jetii temple au #mandalorian jedi au #mandalorian au #raining damnation #so many ahsoka aus #can you tell who I hyper-fixated on #when I first joined the TCW fandom #anywho #feel free to send me asks #or just talk to me in general #I love talking about aus and I love talking about ocs

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letitrainathousandflames · 4 years

Photo

(click for better quality!) 

AO3 Link 

Cody places the chest plate over his sternum, allowing the magnetic clasps to attach the piece to an equally plain one over his back. It feels strange, the lack of protection over his lower body. His midriff remains unprotected under the overshirt.

 “This feels… unsafe.” he grumbles “Too Exposed.” 

Rex hands him the kama with a small grin, the little di’kut. Of course he and Wolffe had mocked him over it, how he was finally gonna wear one like they did. While Cody ties the thing in place, Rex points a finger at him. 

“Listen, senator Organa told us to keep it simple. You’re not headed for battle, vod.” 

“He might just be.” Wolffe quips with a low growl, handing Cody his belt “There isn’t one kriffing person in there that’ll be happy to see a clone in the senate floor.” 

Cody sighs with the belt in his hands. Again, too simple. No thermal detonators hanging from it, much less his holstered blasters. Just a plain strap of leather shielded by plastoid plates. 

He reaches for the arm guards over the table, running his finger over its grooves. The senate. How much did they know about the soldiers fighting and dying for them off-world? How did they feel about their existence? Senator Organa said they might listen to him, but what are the odds of him being forcefully escorted out like a droid speaking out of turn? 

What if he is actually putting them all at risk? If the kaminiise start thinking that even their Marshall Commander is starting to sound like a traitor, how long before they arrive to the conclusion that the clones were a failed experiment and that it would be better to terminate every single one of them? 

His eyes drift over to the carefully folded cape, to the names that he had personally embroidered on its inside, thinks about how no cape, no flag, no amount of fabric would be enough to actually get all of them, thousands upon thousands of men lost to this endless war. Rex walks up to Cody, glances at him to then gently bump his hand guard to the commander’s. 

“Me'bana, vod?” 

Wolffe steps over to his other side brushing his shoulder to Cody’s, and the three of them stare at the names on the fabric as Cody unfurls the cape, spreading it some over the table. The three of them look at it in silence, reading and associating each name to a face, to a voice, to a personality. There are some of Wolffe’s men, lost to the Malevolence’s attacks; some of both Rex and Cody’s men, all lost in Umbara, several of them to friendly fire. And many others, as many as Cody could manage to fit in such a small space. 

That piece of fabric is the only concrete form of remembrance for these men without graves or monuments. Clones can only trust their memories to keep the history of their brothers alive, and it makes Cody’s heart ache. 

“Ni chaabar.” Cody says quietly, and it was only in their Mando’a that he could find it in himself to explain his feelings “I could end up getting us all killed with this.” 

There is a small moment of silence, and then Wolffe sighs.  “We are already getting killed. Every time we fight we lose dozens, hundreds, sometimes thousands of our vod’e in battle, or we watch them die in the medbays.” 

Cody turns to face Wolffe. The commander, as many other clones, was never fond of speaking more than strictly necessary, especially about the bleak conditions in which they all lived and fought in; Maybe it was to protect himself, maybe to protect his men. Maybe it was just his way of managing to cross the tightrope of war without ever looking down. But now he speaks - and Cody listens. 

“They’re keep lowering the age of drafting.” Wolffe traces with his gaze the embroidered name of a wolfpack trooper lost to the Malevolence weapon “First it was by a few weeks, then months, and now…”

Cody notices him poking his cheek with his tongue, shaking his head almost unnoticeably. Wolffe continues:

“I was nine when I was sent out to lead my battallion. I was scared but I was grown and ready.” Wolffe continues, eyebrows creased in a weave of confusion and barely-hidden anger as he turns his eyes to cody “Last week I received word of new batches coming out, most of them eight, a couple of them barely there. The kaminiise are sending out a bunch of still-growing kids to fight before their standard training is even done. We already have accelerated aging to fit the needs of the Republic, but this? This is just sick.” 

“And we can’t say a word about it because we aren’t a people, technically.” Rex adds sheepishly “We can’t say a word about being forced to work overtime. Can’t say anything about being paid in ‘special GAR’s credits’. Or about the overcrowded dorms, or the need of longer breaks, or mental healthcare, or entertainment, or a life outside the army.” 

Rex runs a hand over his cropped blond hair.

  “We are loyal in a way most governments only dream of.” he continues, eyes sharp at Cody “We live and breathe and fight and die for the republic, and we are all proud to do so. But we need to believe that we receive back at least half of the high regard in which we hold the Republic. We aren’t asking for much, and the Republic has denied us the right to even ask.” 

And, after a small pause, Rex swallows down, and his tone shows how much he knows he’s risking just to say it. 

“Do we risk death for our freedom, or do we continue to live as slaves?” 

“Rex.” Wolffe says in a warning tone  

The two of them know of Cody’s loyalty to the Republic. When the idea of having him speak against it in the senate even came up, Cody’s first response was to accuse them of threason. It had taken long enough to convince him to find the narrow path between his fear-based respect for the Kaminoans, his dedication for the republic and the jedi, and his love for his brothers. 

Cody frowns to then run a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes and speaking between his teeth.

“I’m not a slave. I love my duty. I love the Republic!” 

Maybe he should just give up on this. It was all a huge mistake, he had allowed Wolffe and Rex to drag him along with this nonsense. He could just turn his back on this and get back to the barracks, to his armor, to his command, where he belonged… 

He opens up his eyes, and the very first thing he sees is one of the names in aurebesh in front of him, drawing in his gaze like a trance.   Waxer. How could someone with such a kind, gentle heart be so deadly in the battlefield? Cody remembers him, the eager cadet that would always be seen hanging out with his batch brother Boil. Waxer had a heart soft enough to make him adopt a lost child in the middle of a war zone, to pet and feed stray animals and let them in their cover when it rained. He would make such an amazing parent, Cody could almost envision him holding a tiny bundle in his arms, just like Jango would do with his own. He would love his kid with all his heart…  

If he had lived to have them. Instead, Waxer died in a dark world, fallen to a brother’s blast, crying in pain and fear as Rex had reported it.

 Wordlessly, Cody puts on the vambraces, then the arm guards. Lastly, he takes the cape, brushes his gloved thumb over Waxer’s name. He owes it to him. To them, all of the Clone Army of the Republic. He owes it to them to at least try. Cody throws the cape over his shoulders, securing it in the straps on the inside of his chest plate.

 His brothers look at him with pride, and it makes his heart swell. His comlink rings, and Bail Organa’s voice comes through it:  

“Commander Cody, are you ready?”  

Cody looks at Rex and Wolffe, draws in a deep breath.  

“Yes.”  

“I’m about to announce you to the senate. Remember - keep your opening statement short and fast because we don’t know what will be their reaction. And, from personal experience: if they try cutting your speakers up there, just carry on by shouting the rest of your statement. Good luck, my friend.”  Cody chuckles, pressing the comlink.  

“Good thing that us commanders are good at shouting.”

 Mando’a translations:

 Di’kut - Idiot

Me'bana, vod? - what’s the matter, brother? 

Ni chaabar - I’m afraid

Senator Cody picked up from several bits of headcanons across tumblr. I highly recommend checking the #senator cody tag on @transmikecrew‘s blog bc it’s honestly the best and his writing is *chef’s kiss*

#senator cody #concept art #my art #i'm VERY proud of this one #pls rb #my fics

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pub-lius · 3 years

Text

ACTUALLY Hardcore Facts About Alexander Hamilton

Alright, take two.

I've already typed this entire thing out once, so this is likely going to be a lot more lazy than anything else I will ever post, so :).

Sources: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow; John Laurens and the American Revolution by Gregory D. Massy; The Federalist by Alexander Hamilton; George Washington's Indispensible Men by Authur S. Lefkowitz; Lafayette by Harlow Giles Unger; Who Was Alexander Hamilton? by Pam Pollack and Meg Belviso

Hamilton wished for a war when he was like a baby. So if you know Hamilton, you know that one line where Hamilton says "As a kid of the Carribean, I wished for a war, I knew that I was poor, I knew it was the only way to rISE UP-" in Right Hand Man. Well, that line is based off of a letter Hamilton sent to his childhood bestie, Edward Stevens: "...Ned, my ambition is [so] prevalent that I... would willingly risk my life, tho' not my character, to exalt my station... I'm no philosopher, you see, and may be jus[t]ly said to build castles in the air... I shall conclude by saying I wish there was a war. Alex. Hamilton." Okay, dude, calm down, you're like two years old. I think he was actually like 14-16, but for dramatic purposes we'll say he was an actual infant (do I sound like Chernow?). But I hate how much this letter foreshadows. It's like he jinxed himself, its almost embarrassing.

Hamilton ran a business at 14. Now if you've ever been fourteen and you were like "i think i feel like running a business" literally shut up no one asked. I think this is impressive. When Hamilton was at least 14, the guys the owned Beekman and Cruger (it had a different name by this time but this one sounds cooler) just dipped and left Hamilton in charge. This was actually a pretty good decision, since Hamilton managed it well. There was also this one time where Hamilton told a whole captain of a ship who didn't perform up to standard, "Reflect continually on the unfortunate voyage you have just made and endeavor to make up for the considerable loss therefrom accruing to your owners." This man was so arrogant I wish I had his confidence. Yeah that was cool ig, but if I met teenage-Hamilton, I'd literally hate him.

Hamilton saved the president of his college. Ever the dramatic, Hamilton had a thing for suppressing mobs (though he was pretty much never successful). There was this one time at King's College where a mob formed to "talk" with the president of the university, Dr. Myles Cooper (by "talk" i mean make him into a tory bird). And, according to Who Was Alexander Hamilton? (this book gives me so much joy), "Alexander vowed to protect him [aww]... He stood up to the crowd, telling them that violence would only hurt their cause. He couldn't stop the crowd, but he delayed them long enough for Dr. Myles Cooper to escape in his nightgown," (Pollack and Belviso 27-29). This is a really sweet description of it, but Hamilton was probably calling the mob a bunch of insults and stuff, judging by how he later handled riots. Also, Cooper thought Hamilton was rallying the mob, so he was a complete jerk to Hamilton, but rightfully. Everyone, bully Hamilton. He's short and dead like an idiot.

Hamilton was really cool on the battlefield, don't @ me. Now, despite being a clumsy little gremlin and an absolute dork, Hamilton was a pretty good leader, and I guess veterans deserve to be recognized for their victories or whatever. At the battle of Princeton, one of my favorites, Hamilton had very big, cool guns, and did some cool stuff. "Returning to the final phase of the battle of Princeton, British infantry took refuge inside Nassau Hall, the building that housed the College of New Jersey. American artillery commanded by Capt. Alexander Hamilton [ya boy] was brought to bear on the college building... Washington was on the scene and noticed this young artillery officer who skillfully commanded his gun battery. The general would soon invite Hamilton to become one of his aides-de-camp," (Lefkowitz 92). Wow so cool moving on to Yorktown.

When the Americans were building their fortifications, two British fortifications were in the way. So rude. Consequently, Washington sent The Gay Trio, Lafayette, Laurens, and Hamilton, to uh, silence them. Hamilton pulled off a successful sneak attack, and won the battle swiftly, leading to the American victory in the battle of Yorktown, and therefore the war. "...Colonel Hamilton['s] well known talents and gallantry were on this occasion most conspicuous and serviceable. Our obligations to him, to Colonel Gimat [stan], to Colonel Laurens, and to each and all the officers are above expression..." -Major General Marquis de Lafayette. Lafayette is so nice I would marry him if he was alive and single and legal and not old as hell. Like omg he gave credit to everyone but himself that's so nice I'm such a simp for Lafayette. Anyway, Hamilton was cool too ig.

Hamilton caused the evacuation of Philadelphia like an iDIOT. So, after Brandywine (British victory), Washington sent Hamilton on a foraging mission in Vally Forge to get flour, horseshoes, and tomahawks (not quite as exciting as Yorktown). Well, our clumsy ginger rat got caught, and wrote to the president of Congress, John Hancock, "If Congress have not yet left Philadelphia, they ought to do it immediately without fail, for the enemy have the means of throwing a party [party rockers in the house tonight] this night into the city. I have just now crossed the valley-ford [Valley Forge], in doing which a party of the enemy came down & fired upon us."

Surprise, this turned out not to be the entire goddamn British army, it was just a few scouts sooo... let's just say Philadelphia wasn't happy. "Our Removal from Philad. Was owning to information that General Howe was crossing Schuylkill [River]... However tho' this Intelligence was from one of the General's family (Alexander Hamilton) it was not well founded & we wish we had not left Philad.," -James Duane. Yeeeaaahhh, that's awkward. Not the best way to get your name known in the capital, I must say.

Hamilton was possibly bisexual, and this is hardcore because I say so. Now, I'll add more quotes to this later, but basically heres my interpretation of the historical evidence and whatnot. Basically, Hamilton was a really closed off, cynical guy, since like everyone he ever loved died or left him pretty much, and he wasn't really the type to make and keep close friends; "...how little dependence is to be placed on treaties, which have no other sanction than the obligations of good faith, and which oppose general considerations of peace and justice to the impulse of any immediate interest or passion," (Federalist 64); It is a known fact in human nature, that its affections are commonly weak in proportion to the distance or diffusiveness of the object," (Federalist 73). Um, Mr. Hamilton? You're projecting your trauma on the government again.

Also, despite working with him for like twenty years, Hamilton really never got close to Washington, like at all. He even said to Laurens, "I have no friendship for him and have professed none," in regards to Washington, which is kind of mean. But he ALSO told Laurens:

"Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my dear Laurens, it m[ight] be in my power by action rather than words [to] convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that till you bade us adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments and to keep my happiness independent of the caprice of others. You s[hould] not have taken advantage of my sensibility to ste[al] into my affections without my consent."

*mocking Hamilton* its YOUR fault that i love you and it was RUDE that you FORCED me to love you how DARE you you SUCK i love you uwu.

Also, at the top of that letter, someone mysterious (probably Hamilton's son) wrote, "I must not publish the whole of this," and Massey still thinks Hamilton was straight.

But yeah, that's about it. I had originally written more at the beginning, but I unfortunately lost the original draft, so I'll just settle for this. I hope you enjoyed, though, and maybe learned something or found a quote you needed or something. I did more research than I wanted to in one sitting for this, so appreciate it or I'll cry. Thanks love you <3

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