battlefield america

3

Whoniverse: Class - a Quill an episode for the BBC America broadcast (1x08)

anonymous asked:

I swear, APH America would be the literal biggest fan of Hamilton the musical ever. Like, if they were in a world meeting during a war, and a country said "It seems that on the battlefield we are outgunned" America would just stand up and scream "OUTMANNED! OUTNUMBERED! OUTPLANNED!" And a bunch of people think he's crazy but the ones he's forced to see Hamilton/listen to the soundtrack are just sighing like 'and there he goes... again...'

i also headcanon that aph england is also accidentally really into hamilton, so every now and then he’ll find himself singing under his breath

“constantly confusing confounding the british henchmen everyone gIVE IT UP FOR AMERICA’S FAVOURITE FIGHTING FRENCHMAN FUCK YEAH”

and then he just stops in his tracks like shit i’m british and fuck i hate the french what am i doing

A Warrior Searching for a Final Battlefield...

MCU Captain America reminds me of that romantic samurai figure that is only searching for a “shinibasho” ( 死に場所 )–a place to die (honorably/have a worthwhile death). They want to die but they have too much honor to allow themselves to die in a pointless/unworthy way. So they search for the perfect battlefield/duel/cause to die on/in/for.

But what caused our idealistic Cap to become this way? Just the usual existential crisis? Or was it because there’s a heavy secret grief at the core of his soul as he arbitrarily decides to sacrifice his life at the end of Captain America: The First Avenger?

Hint: Didn’t something major happen a day or so before Cap decided to crash the Red Skull’s plane into the sea…?  

Similarly, in CA: The Winter Soldier, when Cap discovers the brainwashed mess Bucky has been turned into by Hydra, he lets himself be beaten to a pulp by the Winter Soldier in hopes of jogging Bucky’s memory… 

…and maybe because, if there’s no chance of reconciliation with Bucky (and he’s as good as dead to him again), Cap honestly wouldn’t mind if the Winter Soldier kills him off. Dying for your friend… makes quite a worthwhile “place to die.”

But finally, in CA: Civil War, when Bucky is restored to him, Cap suddenly stops being self-sacrificing/putting his own needs last, like he usually does. 

He ignores the will of 117 sovereign nations and the UN, and severs ties with friends who care about him…

…and even gives up his shield & with it, the Captain America title–that which has defined his life and ideals since his youth. All to do the one thing he truly wants–to save Bucky. 

As a result, for the first time in his trilogy, Captain America ends a movie firmly determined to keep on living and making sure Bucky is safe.

So in short, as long as he has Bucky in his life, Cap will forestall his desire to find a good battlefield to die on? :-) 

Battlefield

Imagine: Captain America is your boyfriend, but you’re constantly arguing over everything.
Marvel
Captain America x Reader
(Y/N)- you’re name
Warning: FEELS
————————————————

You woke up on the couch; a kink in your neck and back. You and Steve got into one of the worst arguments last night, and it resulted in him throwing a few blankets and pillows out of the room and shutting you out.

You sat up on the couch and cracked your back, feeling relief throughout your whole body. You stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You were starving, so you made some scrambled eggs. You got two plates down, leaving one for Steve. You got yourself some eggs and ate it in the kitchen. You were almost done eating when you saw the front door open, and Steve walking through it. You were going to ask him where he’d been, but it was way too early to try to start something.

Steve made his way over to you, his eyes were ice cold, emotionless. He saw the plate, and the scrambled eggs sitting on the stove waiting for him. “Did you just make this?” he looked back at you, and you just nodded your head. You could tell he rolled his eyes. Like he was annoyed you didn’t say anything. You finally gave in to your curiosity and asked him. “So, where were did you go?” But he ignored your question.

You sighed, finally having enough. “Steve, I love you, but I can’t keep living like this. It’s like we are two people on a battlefield. I’ll text my mom and ask if I can stay with her for a while… Let you get yourself together.” With those words, you started to walk to your bedroom, but you felt him grab you wrist. He pulled you close and hugged you, his breathing slighting spaced out. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry… I know I’ve hurt you, and I… I know I’ve messed up. I’m sorry I ever hurt you. Also, I went and bought you this.” He let go of you, and pulled a a flat rectangular box from his pocket. It was white, with lace trim. You open it and see a necklace with a small metal strip that said “through thick and thin”. You smiled and started to tear up. “Steve, I~” but he cut you off, kissing you. After he took the necklace out, putting it around your neck. He saw how happy you were and smiled “you’re my everything (Y/N)”

anonymous asked:

I would love a fic imagining Jamie, during Claire's surgery after having been shot in MOBY, remembering all the other times he almost lost her, and being super angsty. Maybe when she broke her leg in Voyager, her illness, kidnapping, after Faith, even back to the witch trial and when he first took her back to Craig Na Dun.

Denny had left - his work done, desperately needing a bath - and, despite his faith, a restorative whisky. He’d squeezed Jamie’s shoulder as he quietly exited the room, trying his best to impart some kind of strength.

Poor man had no idea that the source of Jamie’s strength lay nestled in blankets on a borrowed bed, chest rapidly rising and falling in shallow breaths, deep in an  uneasy sleep.

Jamie couldn’t bear to touch her - but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Why? Why, after all this time, all these years, all the terrifying experiences they had shared on and off battlefields in Scotland and America - all the chances that had come and gone - had it been *her*? He had killed men in cold blood - at the bidding of his chief, his king, his clan, his generals. She patched men up - sought to undo the same actions he had done, to bring men away from death.

Even in the dim candlelight he saw her face sheened with sweat. He had to do something - had to comfort her, had to ease her excruciating pain. Pain she was in because of him. Because of the stupid, idiotic choice he’d made to play the general, to join yet another army, fight yet another war, kill even more men - or lead young, trusting men to their deaths.

Quietly he rose and softly crossed the eight creaky floorboards that separated him from his heart. Dipping a handkerchief in the basin of fresh water Denny had thoughtfully left behind, he gently dabbed at Claire’s forehead, then rolled up the handkerchief and lay it horizontally across her sweaty brow.

Was it a fever? Oh God, he hoped not. Or was she just warm? The air in the room was so damned *still*…

Even near death, she was still the most beautiful woman - the most beautiful creature - he’d ever seen, his children and grandchildren included. Surely God would not rob life from such a wonder of creation…

He hadn’t before. Not all the times when she’d been near death - most of which, he realized with a wince, were because of him.

That terrible time when they lost Faith - she said that it would have happened even if he hadn’t been so full of stupid pride, but he disagreed. She had almost died, because of him. He so regretted he had been such a coward and hadn’t been by her side through her healing. As always, he felt a pang of regret knifing through his heart that he had never seen - never held - the silent wonder of his first daughter.

The time she had killed her heart, when he sent her back to the Englishman. She was ill - from malnourishment in the final, desperate days of the Rising, and from the passage through the stones, and then the morning sickness from carrying Brianna. The thought of being back with Randall had made her physically ill. Because of him.

The time she had broken her leg on that ship which had taken them to Georgia. It had been more of an annoyance, but she’d been bedridden. Because of him.

The time she had been abducted, and abused, and raped. Because of him - his position on the Ridge, and his decision to make whisky.

The time she had lain so ill, her hair shorn in punishment, because of Malva. Because of him - because Malva wanted him. Wanted his power, his position.

And now. She lay, panting, sweating, in so much pain, because of him.

He couldn’t bear looking at her face any longer - so he softly, tenderly took her hand, shocked at the clamminess.

His big, blunt thumb traced the deep grooves of her palm. It reminded him of that fortune-teller he’d met in that Paris taven, so many lifetimes ago.

Nine times, she had said. You will die nine times before you lie in your grave.

And how many times had he died? There was when he had the smallpox as a lad - the same fever that had killed Willie. Then when he was flogged at Fort William. Then when Dougal had brained him with the ax. Then Wentworth. Then Culloden. Then when he was flogged at Ardsmuir - but that didna really count, as it hadn’t been as terrible. Then when Laoghaire had shot him. Then when he’d been bitten by the snake. Then - well, maybe this one didna count as well, but the time when Claire thought he’d died at sea, and had married John Grey.

Seven times, then. To Claire’s six.

They were one flesh. They had died thirteen times.

By that arithmetic, one of them was already dead.

Not her. Please, God - not her.

His tears dropped soundlessly on their joined palms as he prayed fervently, desperately, pleadingly, hoping that that damned gypsy had been wrong.

For my WW2 AU. 

Sacrificed, abandoned, forgotten, undefeated. This is a story about the brave individuals who never gave up fighting for what they believe in. 

Alfred is a young fighter pilot who gets himself assigned to the Philippines, even though he knows little about the place.

Matthew, Alfred’s younger brother, is  a communications engineer who also gets assigned to the Philippines. He wanted to go to Europe, but thanks to Alfred’s pranks, he’s stuck in the Philippines with Al.

Arthur is Alfred and Matthew’s older half brother. Being British, he was originally stationed in HongKong. But after Japan attacked China, most of the British forces moved to the closest allied base, which is the Philippines.

(Don’t know yet what part of army Arthur will be in. But I want him to be a high ranking officer, and I want him on the battlefield. Any suggestion?

every last one of bucky's dates:
  • bucky: you wanna go dancing?
  • flirty female: of course
  • bucky: okay we'll meet you there, say around 8ish?
  • flirty female: WE?
  • bucky: me and steve
  • flirty female: ....
  • bucky: listen. if hes not welcome then I'm not going
  • flirty female: *sighs heavily* FINE. I'll bring a friend
  • bucky: *spends half the time staring at steve*
  • flirty female: *literally drags him away from steve*
  • bucky: *keeps staring at steve*
  • flirty female: this is why you never get a second date you know