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salty-rey · 3 years

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Saving Lives

Bad Batch Fic | Sequel to Come Back

Pairing: Crosshair x reader (hinting)

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Bodily injuries, blood, story time!

A/N: Hello! I wanted to write something that elaborated on the relationship between the sniper and combat medic. It’s rather rough, proof-read once (thank you Grammarly), and I may not captured Crosshair’s personality perfect. I hope you enjoy, and I will be back with another story!

Roughly two weeks have passed since the last mission, and during those long days, you were recovering from being shot. Being bedridden was not ideal, almost driving you stir crazy. Especially whenever you tried sneaking out of the barracks, there was always one member of the Bad Batch there to stop you.

Wrecker freaked out when he caught you slowly shuffling towards the bathroom, asking why you were out of bed in panic. He only helped you after explaining your destination, waited outside before actually carrying you back to your cot.

Echo spotted you slowly making your way to the kitchen area before redirecting you back to bed like a concerned older brother, staying by your side and offering his arm for support in case you felt weak. Quite the gentleman.. At least he went back to get whatever food you were craving.

Tech found you attempting to do some stretches since you were stuck in bed for Maker knows how long. He lectured you on the facts that your wound may open again if you attempt any movement during a specific time frame. Even when you decided to lay back down he was still lecturing!

As for Hunter, he entered the barracks, catching you standing on your feet. You were in the middle of putting your chest piece armor back on when you winced at the slight sting of your wound. The Sergeant went full dad mode on you, scolding you for moving when you’re still recovering. Now you knew how it felt like to be Omega, which caused you to accidentally say, “Okay, dad.”

You watched Hunter’s back stiffen, an unreadable expression crossing his face before he turned around, leaving you alone in the barracks. What was that? You thought before sighing, slowly removing your chest piece.

Speaking of Omega. Maker, bless that little girl.

When you were initially knocked out after returning to the Havoc Marauder, Omega refused to leave your side. The boys tried to reassure her that you would be alright, but she wouldn’t budge. After a couple of hours, you woke up, disoriented at first, before spotting the little girl fast asleep on a chair at your bedside. Hunter was awake at the time, and he explained everything while you rested. The boys learned that it was indeed a trooper who shot you and not Crosshair because Omega was persistent in backing you up in your story. You watched the Sergeant carefully picking the youngest member up and carrying her to her makeshift bedroom.

You were awake when Omega rushed into the small barracks, eyes wide before spotting you. She first cried tears of joy, happy to you see that you were okay. Hearing her crying caused Hunter and the other boys to rush in, worried that something was wrong before relaxing after you explained why Omega was crying.

Since that moment, Omega stayed and kept you company. Whenever she wasn’t informing you of the group’s next objective, she would ask if you needed anything like food or water. You felt bad having her grab something to eat for you, and you mentioned it to one of the boys whenever they pass the barracks.

“I’ll let her know. She is looking after her teammate though.” Hunter commented before leaving.

One day during the weeks of recovery, Omega came to your bed per usual and sat down. You were reading on your datapad before glancing up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” she first started off, looking a bit nervous.

“Sure, what’s up?” You asked after putting your datapad down.

“I heard stories of the Bad Batch back on Kamino, but I was hoping to hear how you became part of the team. Since you’re not a clone like us. I-if you don’t mind!” The child asked bashfully, causing you to smile.

“Of course! Heh, no need to be shy,” you grinned before relaxing against your pillow. “I was formally part of the 501st under General Skywalker, still as a combat medic. I helped aid their soldiers and taught any clones who wanted to become a medic. But I was taken out of that battalion and introduced to these guys after Wrecker’s accident.” You said, pointing to the left side of your face.

Omega frowned at the mention of the deep scar on the more giant clone’s face.

“Do you...know how he got it?”

“Not the specific details. Just that his fondness for exploding things up got the best of him at that moment,” you answered. “But that is a story for Wrecker to tell you himself. After his incident and intense care, the Kaminoans and High Command thought that it would be best for the Bad Batch to have a medic at all times. And that’s where I came in.”

“What was it like first joining them?” Omega asked, scooting her chair closer, eager to know more.

You laugh nervously before answering awkwardly, “A nat-born joining a bunch of mutated clones who have a distaste for regs? It wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, Omega. At least, for some time.”

“Wait. Hunter and the others were mean to you?” Omega looked shocked, unable to imagine any of her older brothers being cruel. She began to turn towards the door, ready to get up and give the boys an earful.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there, targon.” You quickly said, grasping her hand to stop her. “They weren’t mean to me. Just...indifferent.” Omega looked confused still, but she was no longer about to charge out of the room. Seeing that the girl was relaxed, you let go of her hand.

“The boys are thick as thieves. Having a complete stranger joining them for Maker knows how long it was off-putting. But, one by one, they slowly welcomed me into their merry band. Well, all except Crosshair.” The mentioning of his name caused you to frown, your hand gripping the sheets.

Omega noticed your shift of emotions, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. “You two were close.”

You couldn’t help but softly laugh a bit. “Not at first. He was the hardest one to be accepted by. It took us potentially dying just to get close.”

At that, Omega’s eyes widened, her jaw-dropping, and you knew that you had to tell her the story now, or she will never leave you alone.

“Keep up, medic. Or I’m going to leave you behind.”

“Where have I heard that before?”

It has been several months since you have joined Clone Force 99. And each mission has been quite eventful. All dangerous, non-stop action and heart-pounding moments. You had seen your share of action before joining this group, especially when you were with General Skywalker and his boys in blue. But the 501st pale compared to the Bad Batch. Then again, the Bad Batch is sent to suicide missions, unlike the 501st, so the comparisons aren’t fair.

Such missions that you were on right now.

Infiltrate a Separatist’s stronghold, eliminate the enemy commander and destroy their entire base. Nothing new but this time, you found yourself on a thick rainforest-like planet. It was the dead of night, using the shadows to your advantage. While the boys handled the assigned target, you and Crosshair were tasked to eliminate any remaining outside forces and retrieve a getaway vehicle.

You have been paired with Crosshair in the past, but they have never been pleasant. The sniper all but ignored you or let out harsh remarks, insulting even, but you did your best not to let it get to you. All attempts to befriend him or have him loosen up a bit around you. It was all in vain, though, and even the rest of the batch members have told you to simply give up.

“It’s not you,” Hunter said one day as they were currently jumping through hyperspace. “He’ll come around. Just you wait.”

But it has been so long now. When will it happen? You were getting tired of the glares and sneers, but you refused to give in.

Focusing back on the mission, the two of you reached the edge of the forest, locating the hanger currently guarded by battle droids.

“Those dwarf spider droids may be a problem,” you stated, spotting the said droid following the standard clankers.

“You should have stayed on the ship if you’re going to get cold feet. You’re useless on the battlefield,” Crosshair sneered under his helmet. You remained quiet, refusing to glance at him. To give him any satisfaction of his words stinging you intensely.

“Just give me some cover fire. And don’t hit me,” you stated before donning your eyeshield then rushing in with your dual pistols.

Having done this countless times, taking down the droids has become second nature to you. So, one by one, the droids fall, caught off guard from a sniper shot from the thick forest. They were also surprised to see a single soldier rushing them with nothing but two pistols.

Once the separate hangar was secured, Crosshair silently joined you, neither one speaking. No “thanks” or “great job.” Then again, the Bad Batch weren’t the ones to compliment each other. Do the job, and get out alive.

“Crosshair, (Y/N). What’s your status?” Hunter’s voice came through the comlink.

“Just cleared out the hangar. We’re getting the getaway vehicle right now,” you responded as Crosshair began to hotwire one of the landspeeders.

The landspeeder came to life, and you quickly hopped on, not wanting to test to see if Crosshair would actually leave you behind. The speeder raced down towards the rest of the crew’s location, staying on time with the plan. As the wind whipped through your light armor clothing, you began to hear a faint beeping sound. Leaning down to the ground, the beeping was getting louder and faster.

“There’s a bomb!” You shouted with realization before rushing towards Crosshair.

The sniper didn’t have enough time to respond because you tackled him off the ledge of the speeder. You had thought that you reacted quick enough, but the planted bomb exploded, launching the two of you further into the air. You felt your hands slip from Crosshair’s armor, separating the two of you.

Then, you landed hard onto the ground, and you felt something snap within you. You couldn’t scream, the air being knocked out of you as your body tumbled and rolled to a stop. Summoning whatever strength you had, you slowly pushed yourself up with your arms before sharply sucking in some air, pain flaring on your right side. Carefully feeling your side, you came to a quick conclusion before gasping.

Crosshair?! Looking around, you spotted the nonmoving clone a few feet away from you, and your stomach dropped at the sight of him. The silver-haired man was lying on his back, his helmet knocked off his head, and you spotted blood oozing from a cut above his eyebrow. Not only that but his right arm and left leg were awkwardly twisted.

Fighting off your own pain, you crawled towards him before pushing yourself on your feet. The world spun, almost causing you to fall backward, but you quickly regained your balance. We can’t stay out in the open. That explosion will attract more droids to our location.

Placing his helmet back on his head, you hook your arms under his shoulders.

Dragging his body deeper into the forest was no easy feat. You were panting and sweating, your head was pulsing, and the pain on your side was overbearing. With every shift, you felt your bones poking at your lungs, causing you to slow down before resuming.

There!

You spotted a large tree, and underneath the roots, the ground sunk and became hollow. It was a perfect hiding spot, and droids are dumb; they never look up or down.

Not wasting any more time, you slid both you and Crosshair into the hole, and once settled, you immediately went to work.

Crosshair slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times as his vision cleared. He tried sitting up, but that caused his head to ache more than it already was. Raising a hand, he felt bandages wrapping around most of his head.

“Leave it alone unless you want to bleed again.”

Crosshair looked over, spotting you sitting nearby, weapons at hand. “What happened?” The sniper groaned, lowering his arm down.

“The landspeeder had a bomb planted and exploded. You broke your arm and leg and had a concussion.” You answered, receiving another groan from the clone after he noticed those said injuries wrapped up in wooden splints. “I’m guessing if the vehicle was activated improperly, it would self-destruct. No wonder the GAR had issues with this Separatist; they thought of everything. Hey! What are you doing?”

Crosshair had begun to sit up, using his good arm to push himself from the floor. “What does it look like?”

“You’re not fit to move around, Crosshair! And neither am I.” You shouted, shuffling towards him, putting your hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop. “I broke 3 ribs, and I can feel them poking my lungs. Hunter knows of our situation, and they’re working right now to find a way to pick us up.”

Crosshair pushed your hand off of him with his good arm, his glare piercing you. “I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

“Apparently, someone does. As your medic, my word is final when it comes to your wellbeing.” You snapped back, putting your hand back on his shoulder and pushing him down. “I’m not letting you toss your life away, all because you want to be stubborn!”

“Don’t act as you care about us clones!” The sniper growled, struggling underneath your hold. “We’re exposable for you perfect nat-borns!”

Your grip on his shoulder loosen, and your glare slowly softened. “Is that why you hate me? Because I’m a perfect nat-born?” You questioned almost a bit too calmly, which startled Crosshair a bit. He wasn’t expecting this reaction from you. No glares or quick remarks. Just silence.

“I am not perfect, Crosshair. No one is perfect. Nat-borns, regs, defects, we’re all the same. Living and breathing, filled with emotions and flaws. What we do with ourselves is what makes us unique.” You said before moving away from him. “I chose to be a medic because I was tired of seeing everyone dying around me.”

Crosshair slowly raised an eyebrow, his face slowly relaxing. “What...do you mean by that?”

You spare him a brief glance before leaning against a stomp, steadying your breathing. And so, you began your tale.

You were born into slavery and having no memories of your parents, too young to really. Among the slaves were children such as yourself, and you called them brothers and sisters. However, one by one, they either died in accidents, killed by their masters, or sold off to buyers. Finally, after years of servitude, you managed to escape, sneaking onto a shuttle and never looking back.

“The moment I left the shuttle, I was given another chance. A chance my brothers and sisters would never have. That’s when I decided to become a medic. Then I volunteered to be a combat medic because I wanted to save lives.” You finished your story, your breathing steady.

“Even if you were created to fight for someone else’s war, that doesn’t mean your life is meaningless. Believe it or not, but I do care about your life. And that of your brothers’. Losing a loved one is never easy, and I don’t want to see any of you go through that.” You fell silent before taking a small breath. “I didn’t tell you my life story so that you can pity me or for me to win you over. Just to tell you my reasoning in life. What you do with my story is up to you.”

Silence fell between the two of you. Neither one dared a glance at the other. You didn’t like opening up old wounds, telling others your story. The only one who knows is Anakin because the two of you share a kinship of being former slaves.

An hour has passed, and your comlink came to life. Hunter and the rest of the Bad Batch contacted you, informing you that they have returned to the ship and are en route to pick both of you up. Their arrival was quick, and so was being carried into the Havoc Marauder.

They had succeeded in their part of the mission, even if they were now chased by any remaining droids. It wasn’t an issue, though, once they left the planet and jumped into hyperspace.

“After that, we were flown to the closest medical station, and we were both healed up.”

Omega was speechless. She had heard stories of the Bad Batch’s missions back on Kamino through word of mouth from the troops, but nothing detailed. This was quite the tale, and she felt a lot of emotions. The first thing that the girl managed to say was, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. The important part is that we both survived, and after that, Crosshair wasn’t so harsh on me. In fact, he always had my back. It was his idea to outfit my old armor to that of Clone Force 99, officially making me one of them.” You replied with a soft smile.

“Thank you for telling me your story. I hope we get Crosshair back soon because I would like to know what he was thinking throughout that moment.” Omega said, causing you to smile sadly.

“Yeah, me too...”

Omega noticed your sadden expression at the thought of the sniper, awkwardly shifting in her chair. Hoping to lighten up the mode a bit, Omega asked you, “So, why is your nickname “Freckles”?”

Your cheeks warmed up and you softly laughed, looking embarrassed. “When the rest of the boys checked up on us, I was being removed from a bacta tank. All I had on was my top and tight shorts. They saw that my mostly covered areas like my thighs were littered with freckles, and that’s where I got my nickname. It was embarrassing.”

“Yeah! But Crosshair was the one who pointed it out!” The booming voice of Wrecker came as the boys now stood at the doorway.

“From what I remembered, you were the one who whistled at her in the first place.” Tech pointed out. “Quite improper if you ask me, since she is part of our team.”

“Need I remind you that you were the one who recorded the whole thing,” Hunter added in. “Don’t you think that’s improper?”

The boys began to bicker among each other, except for Echo who simply listened to the retelling of that moment with intrigue. All of this just made you blush harder, covering your face with the sheets. Because you also remember Crosshair looking you up and down, before smirking and saying “Nice freckles.”

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jojikawa · 3 years

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Fatal Attraction | Kayn x Fem!Reader | League of Legends

˗ˏ✎ [Honey-Maron] *ೃ

✧『Fandom』: League of Legends

✧『Character』: Shieda Kayn

✧『Word Count』: 2,960 words 15,587 characters

✧『Summary』: As a child soldier, Kayn had only made one friend who he wanted to protect during the battles against the Ionians but during his final battle, he was too busy defending himself to see what happened to her. Her body was never found so he knew she wasn't dead and now it was his goal to find her.

(This hasn’t been proof read enough times so bare with my typos)

There was a time in the Noxus military where the battle was getting hard and the Commanders needed a new tactic that would surprise the Ionians. The idea that ended up going through was for the military to pick up poor children off of the streets and train them to fight well enough to distract some Ionians for more capable adult soldiers to come and pick them off.

Kayn was amongst these many children along the way he had met a small and dainty girl that he wanted to protect. When he was injured, she always knew how to patch him up, even if it were with a dirty cloth and a minimal amount of medicine. He assumed that her previous family was doctors and them being tragically killed is what lead you to be on the streets at such a young age.

She was the only person that showed him compassion and the two of you formed a natural bond. Whatever happened, he wanted to make it out with her alive.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

During the training the children were issued to have, you were having a hard time getting used to the sudden change. You were always so small and fragile, Kayn was always doing things for you. He knew that once the battles started that he wouldn't always be there to protect you, so whatever he learned from Noxian commanders, he taught you in secret so that as time went on you wouldn't fall behind the next day.

Eventually, the day of the battle came and on such short notice too. It was assumed to be the last day of this group of children before they would need to go out and fetch a new batch.

“(y/n),” Kayn called to you. “Remember the promise you made to me.” His voice was young but stern. You nodded, too nervous about the fighting for you to reply any other way.

The two of you and others like you were so young and were forced to engage in such violence at the hands of your own commanders as bait and when everything started, all you could do was watch as kids you knew were cut down in front of your eyes.

You had lost Kayn and with a sword and dagger among the fighting, you were left to fend for yourself. You didn’t want to attack these people, instead, you wanted an adult to come to save you but you knew that would never happen, and out of fear you ended up killing more men than you can count on your own two hands.

You weren’t even thinking about the promise you made to Kayn, you were just so scared and couldn’t bear the thought of dying such a horrible death. You wanted to run but at every turn was a man trying to corner you to kill you.

Most children who didn’t die took the chance to run away before they were noticed so, as time went on you had gotten more and more outnumbered.

A group of three men had surrounded you. You could take one, maybe two but three wasn’t something you were made for. Not to mention your own physical strength was still lacking.

“Sheida!”

Kayn had heard his own name faintly in the crowd of people fighting. The Noxus regulars had come to take care of the real threats but there were too many people in the way for him to get to the voice he was so familiar with.

The fighting lasted around a day or two before it was over and word got around that Noxus had attacked an Ionian village.

All the kids who part took were all dead or gone.

Kayn had been left behind. He had been scooped up by the Order of The Shadow not long after.

Master Zed offered to take in Kayn since he had the fighting spirit and tenacity of no other but he didn’t listen to his plea of look for you once more even when he begged to.

It was very hard on him since members of the Shadow kept pushing him to believe that you were dead and your body simply couldn’t be found or maybe your body was there but was ravaged beyond recognition. You were in a better place now.

Kayn refused to believe that and he bided his time in the Shadow until he felt like he was strong enough to make the move of looking for you so that he can have closure once and for all. He felt that if he were the new leader of the Order of The Shadow, he would have the proper resources to locate you somewhere in Ionia.

When Zed had given Kayn the task of retrieving a Darkin weapon in Noxus territory, he saw this as his opportunity.

Kayn had underestimated the journey of obtaining Rhaast but he had done it. His own will kept Rhaast from stealing his body. Now he felt like he could be the most powerful man in the world.

Kayn went back to the Epool River, where everything had taken place and where everything had gone wrong. What remained of it was still damaged from long ago and unwanted memories had flooded his head. He pushed all of that to the back of his mind because knowing if you were really dead or not was his top priority.

Apart from damaged structures and now a small grave honoring those who fell that day, some locals were unable to move and still reside in what’s left of the village. The only thing he could think of was asking locals about you before he decided to take more extreme measures.

“Excuse me” He called out to one person.

“I’m looking for a girl-, uh, a woman I mean.” He said to another. “She has (color) hair and (color) eyes.”

No one was able to help.

He had been asking around all day and at this point, Rhaast had been urging him to start killing people, which would be what made them talk. Kayn refused.

It was the evening when Kayn was about to give up for the day when he was approached by an older woman who seemed extremely nice.

“I’ve never seen you around here.” She commented. “You’re really unique looking as well. You’re not from around here.”

Kayn frowned. “No, I’m not from here. I just came to look for someone, is all. This is where I lost her. It was years ago and I don’t think she’s here anymore.”

“You’re looking for someone? What makes you think you would find her here anyway? This place hasn’t been the same since that terrible invasion that happened years ago. So many children died. Most locals left to a safer place after that.” The old woman remarked as she looked at all the destroyed homes that had never been repaired.

Kayn was hesitant at first but it ended up coming out anyway. “She was here when that happened! We got separated and then when everything stopped she was gone. Have you seen her?”

“Really? I’m so sorry the two of you had to endure that. Those Noxians are as cruel as they come. There were a few children we found that survived. They ended up leaving but a girl stayed behind. Maybe you can ask her where this person you’re looking for went.” The old woman explained.

Kayn’s eyes widened. He suddenly got a second wind. Is it possible? Could finding you really be this easy. “Yes, please! Where can I find her?” He asked frantically looking around.

“She doesn’t live in the village anymore. She lives a bit far out in the forest. She lives alone as well, so try not to startle her.” She warned.

Kayn smiled but it wasn’t his usual devious smile that he would wear while killing Noxians. It was so hard for him to contain the excitement he had boiling inside of him when he got this news. Just when he was about to give up as well.

Kayn carefully followed the directions he was given. This woman was deeper in the forest than he thought. How could anyone "normal" live this far out and be okay with it?

He made his way through and eventually he began to realize that he was at his destination. It was a small neat cottage next to a small pond some yards away.

At first, he saw no one, so he had tread along the cobblestone path quietly. The pit in his stomach was very present and it made him nervous. Rhaast could sense this and only laugh at how silly he looked.

Then Kayn had heard faint water sounds.

Someone was at the pond nearby!

When he got there, he saw a small, young woman. She was covered in scars and wore a simple white dress and a sun hat as she gathered water from the pond below.

She must have not heard Kayn’s footsteps because she has not acknowledged his presence at all.

“Excuse me.”

Kayn’s voice visible startled the woman, causing her to knock over the bucket she had been putting clean water into. She quickly turned around and was immediately frightened.

“I’m looking for a woman...” His sentence was unable to be finished once your eyes met. It’s like he had already known.

The skin, the hair, the eyes. It was you. You were alive!

“(y/n)? You were here all this time?” His knees became weak and he collapsed to the ground at the realization.

“Who are you? I don’t know you!” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, upset at this man for disturbing you at your cottage.

“It’s me, Kayn! Don’t you remember?” A satisfied look dressed his face gracefully as he dropped Rhaast and slowly began crawling toward you.

“No! You’re not Kayn. He’s dead. If you’ve come to kill me just do it already!” You closed your eyes and kicked, sending you back and further away from him. You could feel the water of the pond touching the edge of your palms.

“No, I never died, I’ve always been here. I thought I was the only survivor. Trust me! I taught you how to fight- at the camp, remember?” You could hear the speak of desperation in his voice.

Did you really believe he left you behind like that?

You opened your eyes and really looked at him. He did have black hair and the same color eyes but his body was different. It was...demonic.

“What happened to you...?” Your voice was soft. “I thought you died and that’s why you couldn’t-” you cut yourself off with a choked sob.

Ever since that day you’ve been so alone. The only person that really understood you, you believed to be dead and gone. You had even been trying to move on but then he suddenly appears, unharmed.

“This weapon. It’s special but we can talk about it later. I’m not what’s important right now. I’ve been looking for you ever since we’ve been separated.” He started. “If only I knew this village was still standing. I would’ve come sooner.”

To Kayn, you looked so different but he was able to tell that it was still you. You were so...beautiful. Just as small and fragile but with a strong will to live.

“You were looking for me? I’m sorry. I thought you were dead. I-If I knew, I would’ve tried...” you then mumbled something Kayn couldn’t hear. You were so shy.

Your eyes were glossy like you wanted to cry. So soft and delicate but you were covered in scars that only a warrior could have. You were truly so unique. Too kind for this world.

This was all too much for you. Maybe he should think of something else to talk about that would help since this was a lot for both of you.

“This is your house? So this is where you’ve been hiding out all this time. We should go inside.” He remarked.

“O-Oh, well, okay.” You stood up and grabbed the bucket. Despite knowing Kayn was alive, a sad, sunken look graced your features.

It had been a very long time since you two have been together but it seemed like something more recent was troubling you.

“When we go inside, please remove your shoes. I try really hard to keep dirt and dust outside.” You told him and he did as he was told.

It was so warm inside and the lingering smell of baked goods and cinnamon filled his nostrils. Were you really living here all by yourself?

“S-So, I’ve been wondering.” You touched your index fingers and looked slightly off to the side as he stood in front of you.

A blank look covered his face, confused at your sudden urge to speak to him, but it was welcomed with a curious silence.

“Where did you go? You were...nowhere to be found...when I needed you.”

“There were too many!” He blurted out. “I heard you but I couldn’t get to you. Please don’t think I abandoned you. I’m here now.”

You gasped at his sudden outburst but then sighed when you had processed what he had said. “You can sit if you want.”

The two of you sat on the couch together, drinking a homemade drink you had made. You held your cup but didn’t drink.

“And you?” Kayn broke the silence.

“Huh?”

“You asked what happened to me and I wanted to know what happened to you.”

You frowned. “No, I meant what happened with you being gone for so long. I figured that you died but you’re here. What were you doing all this time?”

“Oh, I...” should he tell you? Was it against Master Zed’s rules to disclose something like that? He couldn’t t...

No. You were more important than some old man’s rules. He was going to be the new leader anyway and in his new vision for the Order of the Shadow, you’re there with him.

“I have been training with a group called the Order of the Shadow. I’ve been with them ever since.” He said with confidence.

“Are they responsible for what happened to your body?” You pointed out that the left side of his body was different.

“In a way, yes. But it’s not by force. I have a great plan and me looking like this won’t last for long.” He explained. This didn’t make you feel better at all.

“I see.” That was all you said in response.

“When I lost you,” you had begun, clenching the drink you had made. “I was surrounded by a lot of men. I had already killed so many of them but I was tired, I couldn’t fight anymore.”

“I-I feel so bad.” You saw the glass on the table and grabbed your head. The memories of gore and bloodshed etched into your brain, haunting you every moment of your life. “They were just trying to help me and I hurt them.”

Kayn didn’t know why but he felt like he should comfort you somehow and he did. He rested a hand in your shoulder. “It’s not your fault. A lot happened that day. They probably would have killed you. You were just defending yourself.”

“NO!” You yelled. “I stabbed one of them because I was scared. Then I was knocked out by the other. When I woke up I was in someone’s home. They took care of me and the person I stabbed died. I’m such a horrible human.”

“Don’t say that! You’re amazing. It was war and you were scared. I’m here for you.”

Your breathing began getting out of control. You were a monster. You destroyed so many people's lives and took lives that can never be brought back.

“Why did I have to live?” Hot tears began spilling out of your eyes. “They were innocent people.”

Kayn was at a loss for words. You were right, they were innocent people but you were too. It was just an unfortunate situation in the wake of war. He had no idea how to comfort a person in such a complex situation.

He hugged you, squeezing you and letting you sob into his chest. He felt so bad. You were hurting all this time...alone.

“Those who’ve died will forgive you. You were forced into this life. You had no bad intentions. Please understand that you live for a reason. Think about it. The two of us were in a horrible situation where we both could have died.”

Your sobbing had ceased, but only just a little. “But here we are, alive and together. Sole survivors.”

“Growing from this won’t be easy but you aren’t alone anymore.” He added.

You clenched onto him. “Ever since that day, it’s been so hard for me to form a real connection with someone. I’m so glad you lived.” You shyly reached your hand up to his face.

His skin was soft and although he didn’t expect this, he didn’t pull away from you. “You’ve grown so much and you’re so capable. I’m very proud of you.” You’re leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his.

Kayn didn’t know what this feeling was. It was almost like nervousness with a bit of excitement. All this time he’s missed your voice and caring nature. He was naturally drawn to you and you were to him. He was your only family.

“I love you, Shieda.”

Kayn immediately kissed you. You weren’t surprised at all. You kissed him back and he held you close.

Tears, of sadness of your pain and the joy of being with Kayn again, streamed down your soft cheeks. A hole inside of you was filled and now you could begin healing mentally and emotionally.

#league of legends #lol #kayn x reader #shieda kayn #league of legend art #league of legends fanfiction #league of legends fanart #lol Kayn #lol imagines #league of legends x reader #lol head canons #Kayn head canons #league of legends headcanons #x reader #self insert #drabble #fanfic #fanfiction

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bird-of-fyre · 3 years

Text

Empires SMP x Wynncraft AU

Been playing a bunch of Wynncraft (an MMO in MC co-owned and I think also created by Grian) and the two BIG plot devices in it are Corruption (Wyyn Province) and Decay (Gavel Province). Both are similar and have ties to the same catalyst.

What’s going on in Empires right now? Corruption. So my brain went brrr and we have this. Feel free to write for, make fanart, etc. with this AU just tag me so that I can see it!

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There are 2 realms in Wynncraft that are constantly at odds with each other. The Realm of Darkness (Dern) and the Realm of Light. When the two forces meet, corruption is formed and the battlefield of their war took place within the Nether. In Wynn, Human miners unearthed a Nether portal and entered, the magic within corrupting and changing them; they returned leading armies of undead that still terrorize the province today. In Gavel, a parasitic entity emerged from a Dern portal and began to infect the magic-enriched land with the Decay.

Corruption spreads like a weed through roots spanning under the entirety of Wynn; the only known force to stall it is Ice Magic. Decay spreads like an infection and slowly consumes the land, it is weak to Light Magic.

The land Empires SMP takes place on is going to be known as Empiria because I feel it deserves a name for this AU. A strange magic protects this land that is believed to be a result of the banishment of Corruption by the Gods before they fell into slumber. Empirians call it "Respawn Magic” as upon dying one is revived at perfect health (though scars may remain depending on the cause of death). Death to age is still a thing, however lifespans of most inhabitants are extended two decades with the exception of elves who live even longer.

Several Empires already existed before the present day crew, these being the following: Rivendell, Mythland, The Overgrown, The Ocean Empire, The Lost Empire, and Smallhold. The rest only came to rise in the past decade

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Characters:

Fwhip: A human that hails from the Wynn province. Him and his sister Gem lived in Detlas together as their parents died in a battle against the endless armies of undead. Fwhip was fascinated by the corruption in their land and sought to study it, perhaps maybe even find out a cure. Gem stopped him from this obsession, reminding him that those that went down that path all ended up becoming harbingers of the corruption. They moved to the land of Empiria shortly around the present day where Fwhip found the Grimlands and the crystalized redstone that tainted it drew his attention. Gem wasn’t fond of the idea but it was a different kind of corruption than that back home so she let him study it. Somehow manages to come off as unhinged yet still in complete control.

Gem: Hailing from Wynn, Gem and Fwhip left for new lands to escape the corruption and undead armies. She settled in a mountainous biome full of amethyst crystals so that she could keep an eye on her brother as his fascination with volatile crystalized redstone worries her. She knew basic fire magic pre-Emperia but now is a bit more adept in her powers and has also learned many more spells. She joined the Wither Rose Alliance with Fwhip and Sausage simply to keep the two chaotic gremlins in line.

Jimmy: A Cod-Hybrid from the Ocean Empire and the adopted brother of Lizzie. He left home to found his own empire in the nearby swamp with his sister’s well wishes. His kingdom is small, but he is a kind and generous ruler that doesn’t see himself above his subjects. While working on paths he found a human washed up on the shore in poor condition; this individual was Joel, a nobody from a far away land who really had just given up on any form of future. Jimmy tends to be the person that generally gets picked on by other rulers for having the smallest empire and because he’s very gullible. Close friends with Pix, who he eagerly loves hearing stories of Corkus from.

Joel: Originally from the port town of Nemract in Wynn, Joel tried to start a religion called Jeremyism in memorium of a donkey he lost to the corruption that never took off due to the Bovemists and their own religion. He cheated some pirates in gambling so they took him hostage and forced him to be part of their crew, not that he was complaining, it was way better than the life he had before. Unfortunately, this didn’t last very long as a battle against some rival pirates during a horrible storm ended with him getting tossed overboard. He awoke on the shore of a swamp where he encountered a cod-hybrid who, with their sister, helped him get back on his feet. After experiencing the Cod and Ocean Empires he decided to start his own in the mesa across the ocean so that he can remain close allies with the duo that saved his life. Him and Lizzie marry a few years later.

Joey: A parrot-hybrid that rules over the Lost Empire as its emperor. He is extremely flirtatious and has questionable morals, but despite this he does care for his people. Fascinated by supernatural forces such as immortality and corruption and also always is looking to grow more powerful in any way he can. He has wind magic but doesn’t tend to use it very much.

Kathrine: A fae whose ancestors were originally from the Realm of Light in a time before the Decay took root in Gavel and Dernic forces made their way into the said realm. When she learns of the origins of several new rulers she is surprised as she had only ever been told of Gavel and Dern. Her and Scott are close, given both their ancestral homes were in Gavel.

Lizzie: An axolotl hybrid who rules over the Ocean Empire. She is a generous and humble ruler who takes pride in he empire and her people. She found a young cod-hybrid caught in a fishermans net when she was still a princess and saved him, declaring him her new brother (which he was happy about). When she was asked to help with a human that had washed onto the shores of Jimmy’s empire she had not been expecting to fall in love with the stranger and is now married to Joel. Wields powerful water magic and takes nonsense from nobody (including her husband).

Pearl: The carefree ruler of Smallhold, an Empire that originally started out as a poor farming village that was struggling on hard times. Pearl is a nymph who took pity on the town and used her magic to help the village through hard times, eventually having them elect her as their queen. Despite her title, she prefers to see herself on equal terms as her people.

Pix: A human from the province of Corkus with great enthusiasm, ambition, and taste for the occasional mischief. He left the island province for new beginnings after accidentally breaking several Corkian laws that would have ended him in prison. His dedication to The Vigil is something he learned from interaction and time spent with the Avos; a race of bird humanoids that were the only inhabitants of Corkus before humans settled there. Pix is fantastic when it comes to metallurgy and uses this knowledge to his advantage when it comes to the copper and other metals he uses in his Empire.

Sausage: Born in the province of Fruma to a poor family Sausage always desired more and often had dreams about becoming a royal and learning magic as only they were allowed the luxury of such. He acted as the robin hood of Fruma for a time before he was eventually caught by the Fruman army and shipped off to Wynn as a soldier to aid the said province in their eternal war against the undead. Unlike most Fruman humans entering Wynn, Sausage did not loose his memories and took the first chance he got to stow away on a ship to new lands. Unfortunately, the ship in question was destroyed in a storm and he washed up onto the shores of Mythland (a smaller town without leadership at the time) and was made its king a year or so thereafter. Given he has no magical abilities of his own due to his origins, he turned to Blood Magic as it’s the closest he’ll ever get.

Scott: The elves of Rivendell originally hailed from Aldorei in Gavel, leaving to escape the Decay. Scott was young when they left for the new lands and, unfortunately, several of the fleeting group were lost to creatures of Dern and Decay; including his older brother, Xornoth. There had been no time to retrieve the bodies of the fallen so those that were left behind were assumed dead or infected. While cold and normally detached from the affairs of others, he does care about his fellow empires. He has light magic but struggles to wield it properly.

Shelby: Gone from her village Shelby returned to find it overun by the Decay and the monsters that come with it. Unable to do anything for her people, she left for new lands. Gavel’s best and brightest couldn’t find a cure for the Decay in their homeland so she hopes that maybe, in this new one, that she might find something to save her people.

Xornoth: Once an elf, now a twisted demonic entity with a lust for destruction. Wounded and separated from his family in an attack while attempting to leave Gavel, he was captured by an acolyte of Dern named Bak’al who brought him back to the realm of darkness. It is here that Xornoth was slowly and painfully corrupted in both mind and body, becoming yet another agent of the beast that governs the dark realm.

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

dance me to the end of love (iii)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential percy jackson & the olympians spoilers, alcohol consumption, motion sickness and vomiting

series masterpost: here

a/n: this took me a hot sec to finish but here it is! there's a dumb little latin joke in here but that's just because i'm a nerd lmao

Ryan is certainly giving Bette a run for her money in the best friend department.

Magdalene has no intentions of usurping her best friend, but Ryan is quickly becoming the person she talks to most frequently. It started on social media but quickly moved to regular texting, both of them being twenty-five and capable of communicating through more normal channels. The text thread between them isn’t indicative of their newfound friendship – it looks like they’ve been friends since high school. At any given moment at least three conversations are going on, and Magdalene regularly sends him random updates throughout the day. Ryan likes hearing about any interesting artefacts she encounters at work so she keeps mental notes to tell him during their frequent phone calls.

Despite talking to him almost constantly, Magdalene hasn’t seen Ryan since they grabbed lunch at Barn Owl nearly two weeks ago. The lake house trip is a couple days out, and she’s been busy trying to get all her ducks in a row. At work, the current project is coming to an end and Magdalene will be sad to see it go – it’s the first thing she’s been on from start to finish. She’s got a neighbour coming to spend time with Caligula while she’s away so he doesn’t get too upset. Though the days are passing by in a haze as she tries to get ready, Magdalene is excited to get away for a little bit. It’s been a few years since she’s left Denver for more than a night, electing to skip on Bette’s previous vacation invites, and it will be nice to slow down. Life is moving at a comfortable pace, but having some time to pause and breathe will keep Magdalene from feeling too overwhelmed.

Halfway through her last day of work, Magdalene gets a text from Ryan that makes her nearly double over in laughter.

Julius Caesar walks into a bar and says to the bartender “I’ll have a Martinus please!” The bartender replies “Don’t you mean a Martini?” Caesar shakes his head and says “If I wanted double I would have said so.”

It takes her a minute to catch her breath, which piques June’s curiosity. Magdalene recites the joke and her boss rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but does let out a chuckle.

June didn’t think it was funny, but I did. Thank you for making today infinitely better. You riding with us tomorrow?

Magdalene tucks her phone back into her purse, determined to remain focused for the last few hours, and misses the reply telling her that Ryan won’t be riding with Bette, Tyson, and herself, but rather with Cale and his girlfriend to leave enough space for all the gear getting brought. She doesn’t see it until she’s walking across the parking lot to her car and it fills her with a sadness that doesn’t make much sense. He’ll be there for the entire week, so does it matter that he’ll be in a different car for the four hour drive? Magdalene has a sinking suspicion about why she’s upset, but she pushes it down. There’s no space in your life for a relationship right now, she reminds herself as she unlocks the door to her apartment. Caligula is waiting patiently at the door and distracts her thoughts from the handsome man with the kind smile that’s been all she can think about recently.

The cat is incredibly perceptive and knows the regular routine is going to change, making him particularly clingy. He follows Magdalene as she finishes packing, meowing and begging for pets, and she considers bailing on her friends. Caligula has mild separation anxiety and Magdalene doesn’t go away often partly because of it – though another reason is her homebody nature. Only the thought of seeing Ryan keeps her from hanging all her clothes back up.

“Don’t worry little boots,” she coos, “I won’t be gone long. Maria is going to check on you while I’m away, and I’ll be home before you know it.”

It seems ridiculous to speak to her pet as though it’s a child, but Magdalene knows Caligula comprehends what she’s saying. He’s always been smart, and the two of them share a bond that’s hard to explain. She picks him up, puts him in the pocket of her hoodie, and they spend the rest of the night packing and dancing along to the radio.

☼☼☼☼

Bette forgot to mention that the road to the lake house is winding, and Magdalene spends the entire ride with her head between her knees. Motion sickness is something that unfortunately plagues her during journeys longer than a couple of hours and she wishes she would have thought to take anti-nausea medication before leaving the house. Tyson tries to crack a joke about her being a bad passenger, but his girlfriend swats his arm and passes her friend a water bottle with a concerned smile. The two of them speak in hushed tones, almost certainly for Magdalene's benefit, and she does her best not to throw up on the floor of Tyson’s car. After what feels like two decades the vehicle rolls to a stop at the end of a gravel path.

“Mags, we’re here,” Bette says softly, praying that her friend will begin to feel better after stretching her legs and feeling firm ground underneath her.

There’s an unintelligible groan from Magdalene, but she rises out of the car and stumbles into the house. Tyson and Bette insist that she rest and they’ll handle the unloading of the car, so she crawls into one of the empty beds and falls asleep as soon as her head touches the pillow. It’s a dreamless slumber, one fuelled by the pure exhaustion of battling illness while travelling, and when she awakes hours later Magdalene feels oddly refreshed. Her energy level is still relatively low, but she knows that intaking food won’t be an issue.

Padding down the stairs as quiet as possible in an effort to not break the peaceful atmosphere, Magdalene is met with a quiet house. She’s utterly confused – she didn’t sleep long enough to miss dinner and judging by the way the sun is low in the final car full of people should be arriving any minute. For a moment she thinks the group left her in the mountains alone, but then the sound of a trunk closing breaks the silence.

“I fucking told you bro, you should have let me drive!”

Ryan’s voice echoes in Magdalene's ears and her heart skips a beat. She didn’t realize how much she had missed him or how excited she is to see him. Despite everything inside of her saying she should run into his arms Magdalene stays put in the kitchen, running the tap to get a glass of water. She focuses on the mountain on the other end of the lake, framing the setting sun and creating a postcard ready photo. The camera app on her phone is open and angles for the best shot are found. Ryan tumbles through the door a second later, arms filled to the brim with luggage and bags of food.

He drops them the second he sees her, running up behind her and lifting her off the ground. “Mags! Cale almost hit a deer!”

The shock of Ryan’s onslaught of affection catches her off guard, and Magdalene shakes her hand, forcing the picture to turn out as nothing but a blur.

“No hello?” She laughs as Ryan lets her feet touch down on the wooden floor. “It’s the least you could give me after destroying my chance of getting a National Geographic worthy picture.”

He smiles but doesn’t let his hands drop from their perch on her waist. “There’s six more days for you to nail it. I’ll even help if you ask.”

Other bodies enter the house then, causing Magdalene to slink away from Ryan’s touch even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. They’re simply friends, and she doesn’t want Bette to get any ideas. The last thing Magdalene needs on her plate right now is her best friend forcing her to paint a custom denim jacket with Ryan’s number across the back. “I can’t believe you almost hit a deer,” Tyson sighs in disbelief.

“It wasn’t even close,” Cale grumbles, picking up his bags and stomping off to find a place to claim as his own the next couple of days. A petite redhead follows after him, giving a small wave to those in the kitchen before scurrying away. When she asks, Ryan tells Magdalene the girl’s name is Livy, and that she’s Cale’s girlfriend from back home.

Everyone shrugs at his moodiness and disperses. Bette and Tyson stay in the kitchen to make dinner, Ryan goes to claim the final room, and Magdalene slips outside to sit on the patio furniture. The sun has dropped drastically in the past five minutes, causing the air to chill. She wraps her arms tighter around her legs and watches a pair of birds fly over the lake below. It’s so peaceful, a complete one-eighty from the insanity of her life in Denver, and Magdalene thinks about never leaving. She knows it’s impossible, but as she closes her eyes and listens to the quiet laughter of her friends inside the idea seems like a pretty good one.

The sliding door creaks open and Ryan goes through as quietly as possible. He tosses a sweater in Magdalene’s direction as he walks over, plopping down beside her on the small couch.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, slipping the fabric over her head. “I didn’t realize how cold it had actually gotten.”

He smiles in response and shuffles his body a little closer to create extra warmth. Magdalene leans into him, trying to appear casual even though her heart is beating rapidly, and pulls on the strings of the sweater Ryan gave her.

“So, are you excited for this week?”

It’s more awkward than she thought it would be – seeing him in person again, especially since they’ve been texting almost constantly, and the words kind of stick in her throat.

“Honestly? Now that I’m here I am, but I was a little leery about taking time off,” Ryan explains, detailing how he’s trying to improve some aspects of his two-way play and is worried his progress will plateau. Magdalene understands and shares her own worries about taking time off work even if her boss encouraged it.

After catching up quickly and running out of things to say, the pair of them sit in silence watching the sun set until they’re called inside for dinner. It’s nice to just exist, especially with Ryan beside her, and Magdalene feels her heart sink as they separate and he goes to make sure Cale isn’t actually mad at him.

☼☼☼☼

It storms the first two days at the lake house, forcing everyone to stay inside. Tyson complains about how he has less time to drive the boat that came with the property but the others take it in stride. Magdalene spends most of the time reading for pleasure, something she hasn’t been able to do much of the past few years, and Ryan joins her for large chunks of the time. It turns out that he too is an avid reader, and the two of them discuss their favourite novels and series while the other four play board games.

“So you’re telling me you wish Annabeth would have joined the Hunters of Artemis?” Magdalene shrieks in shock, almost knocking the wine out of her glass as her arms flail in disbelief.

“I think it made sense for her to,” Ryan defends.

“But she’s perfect for Percy!”

He sticks to his guns. “I’m not saying she isn’t. I just think that at the time the offer was presented it was the most logical choice. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about what would have happened if she did.”

She ducks her head in defeat because she had imagined it, on many occasions in fact. When reading the series for the first time in middle school Magdalene had desperately hoped Annabeth would choose the Hunters over Camp Half-Blood, gaining the family she herself never was privy to. They return to reading quietly beside each other, occasionally knocking elbows when trying to turn a page.

Tuesday brings sunshine and clear skies, which means Tyson is trying to corral everyone into the boat as soon as they’re up. Magdalene tries her hardest to get out of it but her pleas fall on deaf ears.

“You’ll be fine, stop being such a wimp,” Cale jests. She knows that he’s just anxious to soak up some sun, but the words hurt more than Magdalene would have liked them to.

Livy swats her boyfriend across the chest. “Enough! If she doesn’t want to come she doesn’t have to.” The smaller girl sends her a kind smile before speaking low enough that only Magdalene can hear her. “I know your book is just getting good and you look like the kind of person who needs alone time to function properly. Enjoy yourself.”

Seemingly excused from the day’s festivities, Magdalene gives a sheepish wave before climbing the small hill to the house. Ryan meets her halfway and is appalled when he hears of her plans.

“Nope, I don’t think so. You’re not leaving me alone to be the ultimate third wheel!”

He has her off the ground and over his shoulder in a millisecond, jogging lightly to catch up with the rest of the group. Magdalene’s laugh bounces off the tree lined shore, and she’s too busy having fun shrieking at Ryan to complain about being forced to spend all day on a boat away from her book. Tyson peels away from the dock before she can regret tagging along, and Bette tugs Magdalene to the bow.

The two girls chat quietly, giggling and sipping on the mimosas they made earlier. Magdalene isn’t a huge day drinker, but Bette makes sure there’s more orange juice than champagne to make her feel less guilty. Livy joins them a while later after becoming sick of the boys and their shenanigans. It’s nice to hang out with a group of girls that aren’t competing for the top spot in a class, Magdalene decides, and she revels in the stories they tell of going to hockey games and babysitting the children of players so they can catch a break. Twinges of jealousy creep up at the wonderful family dynamic the Avalanche seem to have, but she stomachs them. She reminds herself that other people deserve to have support systems and excuses herself from the conversation.

Magdalene slides into the free space beside Ryan, and without thinking he wraps an arm around her shoulder. It feels so natural that she wonders if it’s how he greets all his friends, but the looks of shock and Tyson and Cale’s faces say otherwise. After a bit more cruising they find a small bay to anchor in for a while. The sun had climbed to the middle of the sky and is unbearably warm, leaving everyone no choice but to jump into the water to cool off. Magdalene does her best to float peacefully a short distance away from the group but is somehow brought into a splashing war because the teams aren’t equal.

Eventually the constant barrage of water chills her to the bone, and Magdalene swims back to the boat. She watches from the sidelines and cheers for her old teammates with a towel wrapped snugly around her. Ryan breaks from the group too, insisting it isn’t fair to have teams on unequal strength. Once dry, he picks up the baseball cap he brought and places it delicately on Magdalene’s head.

“Your cheeks are starting to go pink and I don’t want you to burn,” he explains, passing her a bottle of sunscreen as well.

“Thanks Ry.”

They muse about the idyllic beauty of the scene in front of them until everyone rejoins them. For reasons unbeknownst to Magdalene Tyson is in a rush to get back to the house, which leads to him driving very fast and a little erratically. The contents of her stomach threaten to come up but she holds them down, tightening her grip on the leather seat. A wave crests and Tyson hits it head on, causing the boat to lurch and rock. Magdalene knows it’s going to happen before it does and leans over the side to save a mess from being created. All the alcohol and food she’d consumed throughout the day is no longer in her body, and heat creeps up the back of her neck. She’s embarrassed – what twenty-five year old gets sea sick?

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

She tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace. “I just, uh, get motion sick really easily.” Bette passes her a water bottle and she drinks it quickly, eager to get the taste out of her mouth.

Ryan lets Magdalene curl into his side the rest of the way home, and rubs comforting circles on her back to ease her discomfort, doing his best to ignore the stares from his friends.

☼☼☼☼

The trip comes to an end much more quickly than Magdalene would have liked. Tomorrow morning they’ll pack up and drive back to Denver, returning to their normal hectic schedules. Cale and Livy are heading back to Alberta for the rest of the summer, and Bette and Tyson will be going for a visit as well. She’s heard Ryan mention going home in passing, which most likely means he doesn’t have plans to stay. Magdalene will be all alone in Colorado, but she’s used to it. The only issue being friends with professional athletes is that they leave. She’s been dealing with the loss since Bette and Tyson got together years ago – having them around as her support system most of the year and then them disappearing for a couple of months.

Not wanting to think about how soon she’ll be alone, Magdalene heads outside and starts a campfire. It’s a skill she picked up as a kid and it has come in handy over the years. The newspaper crinkles under the flame from the lighter, and soon the kindling is burning well. Everyone else is still inside, cleaning up from dinner and preparing for one last night in paradise. She places a few blocks of wood in the fire pit once there’s a good enough flame and curls up in a chair, lost in thought about what comes next. There’s rustling from somewhere behind her but she pays it no mind, assuming it’s a small animal wandering through the forest.

“Can I offer you some company?” a voice says softly, waiting for a response. The movement wasn’t a raccoon but in fact Ryan, and Magdalene gestures at the chair beside her with a smile.

He passes her a glass of white wine, which she takes with an appreciative hum. They sit in silence for a moment, admiring the beauty of the setting sun. “I’m going to miss it,” Ryan sighs, leaning back in his chair and extending his legs.

She nods. “Me too. It’s so quiet up here. Denver gets too loud sometimes.”

“Tell me about it. I’m not just going to miss the lake though, it’s also lounging around and not having to worry about hockey. And you.”

The ending comes out rushed, and Magdalene isn’t sure she heard him correctly. “Me?”

Ryan looks at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yes you. Why wouldn’t I? You’re funny, smart, and catch all of my West Wing references. There’s no one who gets me quite like you, even back home.”

It takes her by surprise. They’ve only known each other for a few months, and only really started associating after the party at Bette and Tyson’s. There has to be somebody who knows him better than she does. When she voices her opinion Ryan just scoffs, saying that people treat him as one-dimensional because he plays hockey. Somehow the conversation shifts to Magdalene, and when she lets it slip she gets lonely in Denver without her friends, Ryan asks the question she’s been dreading.

“So why don’t you get a boyfriend?”

“I can’t just get a boyfriend because my friends are gone,” she laughs, but there’s an edge to it, like she’s unsure of where this will go and how to question the follow ups.

He rolls his eyes. “I know that, but like, I don’t know, wouldn’t it be nice to not be alone all the time?”

It would be, Magdalene thinks, but she just shrugs. “I guess I’m not looking for a relationship right now. I just finished school and for the first time in a long time I can focus on myself.” She leaves out the part where Ryan gives her butterflies and that if he asked she’d probably jump headfirst into a relationship with him.

The topic is dropped then because Tyson comes out of the house screaming about the night is going to be wild because it’s their last together for a while. Magdalene and Ryan share a look of mild panic, but both of them are itching to have fun with friends so they raise their glasses in salute before finishing them in one gulp.

Magdalene drinks more than she should and wakes in the morning with a killer hangover. It seems that no one else is better off though, all stumbling around looking for Advil and coffee like it’s going to be their last meal. Packing up takes a bit longer than expected, but they’re still out before the official checkout time. There’s a bit of discourse on who Magdalene will travel home with. Bette wants her in Tyson’s car, no doubt to talk about how close her and Ryan seem to be, but Cale offers to bring her with them. His reasoning is that Ryan is driving him and Livy directly to the airport, and having the front seat could be good for her motion sickness. It’s ultimately Magdalene’s choice and the idea of having more time with Ryan before he leaves is too enticing to pass up. She bids her other friends goodbye, promising to come over for dinner before they fly out, and climbs into the cab of Cale’s truck.

Once again she’s a less than ideal passenger, but this time it’s because she sleeps the entire way back to Denver. The drinking took it out of her and coupled with the queasiness in her stomach from the winding roads sleep is the only thing that makes sense. So much for extra time with Ryan she thinks as she wakes up in the airport parking lot.

“Sleeping beauty has risen!” Ryan chuckles, “Why don’t you get out and stretch your legs for a sec? We have the parking spot for another fifteen minutes.”

Magdalene does as suggested because truthfully her joints are a little stiff, and finds Cale and Livy grabbing their bags from the back. She hugs them goodbye and wishes them safe travels, which Cale returns with a warning not to get into too much trouble before heading for the entrance. Once both of them are safely inside the confines of the airport, Ryan and Magdalene get back in the vehicle and finish the last leg of the trip.

She directs Ryan to her apartment complex, and he mentions that he’s never been in this area of the city. “That’s because you have no need to be around a bunch of university kids,” she laughs. Once they pull into the parking lot, he offers to help her take up her bag. It’s only a small suitcase Magdalene could definitely handle herself, but she wants him to come up, to prolong her time with him.

Magdalene’s keys jingle in the lock as the door opens. Ryan follows her in and shuts the door carefully, not wanting to disrupt the aura of peace that permeates the space. From what he can tell, the average size apartment is the perfect reflection of Magdalene – packed full of books and plants and feels very put together despite the owner being only twenty-five. After their shoes find a home on the boot rack and the coats they brought for the drive home are hung in the closet she leads Ryan into the living room. There’s a soft purring by his feet, and Ryan looks down to see an animal. He never pegged Magdalene as someone to keep pets.

“Who’s this?” he asks, bending down to pet the small white cat.

“That’s Caligula.”

A puzzled look graces Ryan’s features. “Who?”

“Caligula,” Madalene giggles. “You can call him little boots if you’d like. He’ll respond.” She picks up the animal when it comes to her and scratches gently behind its ear.

“Why would you name your cat something dumb like Caligula, and why does it respond to little boots?”

It’s then the woman realizes that not everyone understands the reference. “Caligula was the third emperor of Rome,” she explains, “But his real name was Gaius. He gained the nickname Caligula as a child and it just stuck. It translates to little boots in Latin.”

Ryan is in awe of Magdalene for what feels like the millionth time. Of course someone as smart as her would have a crazy name for a pet and have the knowledge to back it up. He feels his chest tighten with affection but he wills it away. She isn’t looking for anything right now, he reminds himself. Magdalene’s self-professed inability to reciprocate his feelings is frustrating, but Ryan knows he’d wait forever for her.

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: catch some extra content here!

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @ricohenrique @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 (add yourself to the taglist!)

#ryan graves imagine #ryan graves x oc #ryan graves fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #dmtteol

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lightanddarklove · 3 years

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SU - Connie's character development

I've been noticing in the SU tags that people have been pointing out that Connie should have or must have had therapy or some sort of counseling prior to future, and I agree. I've heard that others think she got limited development on screen from the later half of SU and basically all of Future, a point that is fair post Jungle Moon, but to me, it would make sense for her not to lean on Steven as much as she does before Sworn to the Sword, as she slowly gains confidence from being Steven's friend.

I'm only focusing on a few specific episodes here in an attempt at brevity (it’s definitely longer than I wanted). At some point I may reblog and add more, but I'd like to get this out there before the one year anniversary of the SU: Future finale.

At the beginning of the series, she is fairly introverted, shy but inquisitive and sensible. She doesn't show any interest in the people of Beach City until Steven protects her from the falling rocks near the temple and inadvertently traps her with his bubble. She asks questions about the townies, and writes the text of what they need on the bubble when they try to get help from Onion. When Steven's rollercoaster plan goes awry to free them, and they are knocked into the water, she is clearly very anxious. Once the chasm opens up beneath the water and they are further trapped, we see her standing up for herself for the first time, something that continues to increase in frequency over the course of the series. Upon the defeat of the corrupted Orange Spodumene, she is amazed by Steven's quick thinking that saved them.

We see her again in Lion 2, when they have an adventure on Lion that precedes their intended movie outing. Upon arriving outside the theatre, after the harrowing experience with the Robot Shooty Thing in Rose's Armory, she is discouraged, leading to Steven's frustration with messing up their original plans. Connie counters with her feeling that Steven shouldn't be involved with her, as she feels her life less interesting than his, and that her enjoyment of Dogcopter is nothing compared to the magical destiny Steven is encountering. This lack of self-confidence comes back several times until late in the series. After Steven points out that he very much enjoys Dogcopter, the Robot Shooty Thing returns, causing the duo to fight it using the sword pulled from Lion's mane. Working together, they conquer their foe using Connie's tennis moves, cheering both of them up.

In an Indirect Kiss, she clearly shows concern for Steven's glum mood, but is willing to push him a little in order to get him to open up about what's bothering him. We also see what would have likely been a romantic moment if the healing spit from their shared drink hadn't caused a sudden headache from her prescription no longer matching what she needed. After Steven excitedly goes to tell the gems about his newly discovered ability, we see Connie form some resolve in popping out the lenses of her glasses at the close of the episode.

I spent some time analyzing Alone Together for both perspectives on Kevin for my SU: Future fic, The Best Mother and Doctor I can be, but the development of Steven and Connie builds from them discussing dancing and fusion on the beach. After Steven covering his eyes at first to help Connie get more confident, the pair get into a rhythm, and eventually running circles around each other. This causes Steven to trip and Connie to unintentionally dip him in keeping him from falling. Connie's blush shows she reads the situation as romantic, but Steven smiles, seeing nothing wrong with her holding him up. In a moment of connection, they both start giggling and Stevonnie is formed for the first time. A bond is forged, their mutual consent to continue being fused through most of the rest of the episode. Once they start dancing at the rave they realize the attention on them is making them very uncomfortable, causing panic and hallucinating. Once they break through the panic attack, they stand up to Kevin when he invades their space and refuse to let him dictate how they spend time together. As these earlier episodes progress, we see both of them learning to be more confident when by each other's side.

The Return does lead into Full Disclosure, from Steven leaving a message on her answering machine thinking it my be his last chance to say goodbye. After Steven separates from his Dad in The Return, he has no human contact until Connie's call cuts into the scene in the wreckage of Homeworld's ship in Jailbreak, asking if he's ok before leading into the celebration of the Gems at the beginning of Full Disclosure. Steven's a bit astonished on the face of everything that happened in the past evening, and when his dad's van pulls up, he promises to call her back and cuts the call short. Once he sees his Dad's reaction to his harrowing ordeal, he is further hesitant to answer Connie's calls, for fear of worrying her. After a brief talk with Ronaldo, advising him that his story is one he must bear alone for normal people can't understand the burden of truth. After mulling it over and feeling she is better off without him, he declines her call. After this, Connie continues to call, but she makes her way to Beach City and is soon at his doorstep, as he tries to explain to the gems that he wants to cut ties with the humans in his life, Connie included. Pearl buys him a bit of time as he sneaks past them, and Connie tells her she's very worried. Once Connie goes to leave, she spots him fleeing, and calls out to him multiple times, questioning why he won't face her. After Steven tries to break off their friendship via text, Connie calls him, confused. Once he replies seriously, she calls out him choosing to do this through the phone, and demands he "say it to [her] face," refusing to accept losing him as her only friend if he can't do that. This builds from Indirect Kiss, where she isn't willing to let him hide his feelings or what happened that made him feel badly. Once he leaps from behind the wreckage, we see his resolve to keep her away has broken, tears streaming down his face. After she shows concern for his visible injury, and he claims wanting to protect her, she shuts that down and asks for him to tell her everything. After he explains, she makes it clear that being a part of his life is important to him, and the episode ends with Greg driving them back to the Maheswaran home.

In Sworn to the Sword we see the culmination of her bravery and resolve to this point. After Steven and Connie try to enjoy their Jam Bud snack, they're accosted by a small flock of seagulls, and Connie fends them off with her violin bow. Upon seeing this, he volunteers Connie to apprentice sword fighting with Pearl, and although both of them are surprised by this proposal, he praises Connie, and she talks of how she wants to be there for him for the dangers the future to fight beside him. Swelling with pride, Pearl agrees, and their training begins. After showing them the Sky Arena, Pearls delves into the training and hardships of battle in her past. Pearl's tutoring Connie seems to focus on breaking down her independence, and Connie's prior confidence shifts to disregard her well-being, as Garnet said Pearl had done during the war. As Connie had issues with self-esteem prior, it isn't long before she's repeating mantras of "I don't matter," to Steven's horror. This training isn't taking place over a day or two, it seems over the course of at least several weeks. Once he's determined to keep her from risking herself without a thought, he interrupts a training exercise where Connie faces stealth striking Holo-Pearls through cloud cover. He dismisses the idea that she needs to face these threats alone, and asks to fight beside her instead, which they are able to work together seamlessly. Once Pearl catches wind of the pair in the arena, she scolds Steven, declaring Connie needs to face her alone and he shouldn't be there, knocking the weapons from the duo's hands. Steven refuses to accept that he shouldn't be a part of the fight, declaring again his will to fight with her, dismissing the thought that "[he's] too important." After Pearl snaps back with a shout calling Steven Rose, she stumbles over her words and attempts to dismiss the duo. They approach her and Steven admits the reason he felt the need to tell Pearl how he felt about the training was the "you're nothing talk," which worried him. Connie posits if Pearl felt that way because of Rose's actions, but Pearl laughs it off, telling her she felt the opposite. Once she declares that their bond will only make them stronger, if they train hard together, and comes up with a new regimen as the episode fades out. After the training Connie has received for several months Connie is asked to take part in her first mission with Pearl and Steven, which the Maheswaran family allows on the condition they take lots of pictures. Pearl guides them to a snowy area in the Great North as they seek out a corrupted Gem together. Upon facing one down, another appears, then splitting off in two directions and Pearl thinks about turning back before the duo convince her they can handle it. She agrees if they call her once they've found the corruption, as she worries about them fighting it alone. Steven and Connie track it, taking break to warm up in a hollow tree as snow continues to fall. Steven posits possibly healing it as there are humanoid tracks in the snow along with the corruption tracks, and thinking the Gem may not be too far gone to save. Once they track it further, it has appeared to corner itself against a rock wall. Pearl checks in with the pair via walkie-talkie, which draws the Gem's attention to them. Steven tries to talk to it, but it has no significant affect. It attacks, and once it pops the bubble around the duo, they are separated. It moves to strike Steven, but Connie tries to draw it's attention with snowballs. Once it bears down on her, she freezes up and says she "wasn't prepared for this." Upon hearing Pearl speak through the walkie-talkie, her resolve returns and se snatches it from beneath the Gem, calling her for help. Jasper crashes into the corrupted Gem, shocking Connie and Steven. He regroups with her, protecting them both with a bubble as Jasper pummels the corruption, and poofs it without much struggle. Pearl appears to help as Jasper shows off the gems she has captured, and Pearl is shocked. Jasper disappears into the snow and Pearl is relieved that the kids are ok, saying she wouldn’t have had them on this mission if she knew Jasper would be here. Connie is disappointed, feeling that she failed because she didn’t strike when she had the opportunity to fight the corrupted Gem. Pearl assures her that she followed the instructions of calling once they encountered the Gem, as she was instructed. Connie seems relieved by Pearl’s praise in the end, as they consider Jasper’s appearance as the episode closes.

After Jasper is freed in Super Watermelon Island, she poses a significant threat to the Crystal Gems, and now that they’ve encountered her in the prior episode, Pearl and Garnet set off to track her down. Amethyst watches over Steven and Connie and tries to distract them around Beach City, to keep their minds off Jasper. As the duo is playing in the water with Amethyst overseeing them, Jasper looms out of the water with a corrupted gem. As Amethyst faces off against Jasper, Connie and Steven fuse, and Stevonnie fights the corrupted gem while riding Lion. Amethyst is quickly dispatched and the fusion faces off against Jasper, defeating the corruption and saving Amethyst. Jasper gets away, but Stevonnie revels in their victory, despite Amethyst’s discouraged demeanor. When Steven and Connie unfuse, they are cheerful and Connie seems to have a confidence boost, which shows her competence that holds up through most of the rest of the series.

In Mindful Education, we see one of the last distinct shake-ups to Connie’s character up until Doug Out, which mostly just forms a stronger bond with her Dad. Steven and Connie are fusion training with Pearl and Garnet, and during their battle with Holo-Pearls, a distracting memory shakes Stevonnie so much they unfuse. Steven goes to comfort her as she runs out of the Sky Arena, and convinces her to talk about it to try and help. Upon hearing that she feels badly for accidentally hurting someone at her school, Garnet approaches them, suggesting a training option that may be help. The pair of fusions meet on the beach and are guided through meditation on how to work through their feelings about Connie’s most recent hard memory. In it, we see Connie bump into a boy at school and react suddenly by flipping him over her shoulder from his arm as a defensive reaction. Mortified, she flees and the memory ends. With breathing exercises, she is able to let the memory go, and we cut to another day where they attempt to train again. Once again, memories distract Stevonnie, but this time the thoughts come from Steven’s perspective. They reminding him of recent his battles with Bismuth, Eyeball Ruby and Jasper, causing the fusion to be overcome with tears and backs up to the edge of the Sky Arena, falling without warning. After they tumble over the edge, they unfuse and Steven is still overcome with emotions. Connie reaches out to him and tries to assure him that despite how badly he’s feeling to have to tackle these memories, he can’t run from them for good unless he faces them. Eventually, as they fall, they fuse again, and the memories pass, helping calm them enough so they can slow their decent.

#Steven Universe #steven universe spoilers #Connie Maheswaran #Connverse #my precious gem child #Sworn to the Sword #Jem Hunt #Crack the Whip #Mindful Education #Garnet #Amethyst #Pearl #Jasper

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

Text

Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary: This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

********

The paper sliced across the skin before any action could be taken to avoid it. A high pitched hiss followed by a short whine. The flap of skin that had been separated was being dyed red.

Gwen stuck her index finger in her mouth to sooth the stinging. It helped a little bit. Still sucking on the appendage, Gwen stumbled over to the supply closet and opened the thin metal doors with the other hand. She kept this feat up as she opened the first aid kit and pushed around the different types of bandages, trying to decide which one to use. The cut was right on the tip, right where you never want it to be. It was hard to get a band aid on that kind of cut. Eventually, she found a smaller version of a standard design and ripped the paper covering opening. She wrapped the band aid around her index finger before heading for her desk. It was back to the files that had injured her in the first place.

The pile was tall; by her standards, at least. Gwen had been dealing with it for the past hour. The dates on the files needed sorting, separating the ones could be sent to long-term storage. She almost gave out another whine, but she didn’t want the others to hear and start the relentless teasing. Her coworkers were quick and very witty.

It was a friendly floor. Everyone joked and played around without the fear of feelings being hurt. If Gwen didn’t have to do the actual work that came with the office space, she wouldn’t mind staying here forever. But dealing with these files and demanding customers and meeting quotas was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not that Gwen knew exactly what it was that she did want to do. She’d tried a lot of things over the last few years in her slow going college years. Marketing, history, education - hell, she even took several makeup courses and skincare lessons that focused on natural resources. None of it stuck, none of it held her interest, though the information could be recalled if needed.

“You alright there, Gwen?”

Drudging up from the bowels of her thoughts, Gwen looked up at Kimberly, who had stopped at her desk on the way back from the printer.

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded with a sigh. “Just… ready for the week to be over.”

“Ain’t that the consensus,” Kimberly laughed.

“How are the dogs?” Gwen was seizing the opportunity to distract herself from work. Kimberly owned two dogs with opposite personalities. One was the well-mannered older brother, the other was the skittish, hyper younger brother. She loved to talk about them and there was never a shortage of entertaining stories.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Kurt is back to back to demanding his breakfast at five a.m. Oh, but Kent now does this thing where he walks backwards. Whenever he starts doing that, we’ll beep at him. You know, like the garbage trucks? Then he gets all shy and hides his head.”

Gwen couldn’t stop giggling at the thought. “Oh, the poor thing!”

“You’ll have to see it next time you come over.”

“I can’t wait.”

As Kimberly walked away, Gwen sighed. She didn’t get out too much and the humor that most of her socializing outside of work was with one of her coworkers wasn’t lost on her. Just another dart to throw at the board that was Gwen Sinclair.

It wasn’t like her life was a complete disaster. Really, it could have been worse. She could imagine a thousand different scenarios that she could be living right now that were worse off then her current situation. Truthfully, if glanced at from the outside, Gwen’s life was simply... mediocre. She was blessed with tolerable roommates, an okay job that provided a nice paycheck for a twenty-three-year-old who had yet to finish college. But… the loneliness was killing her and overall, she was craving for something more.

She was exhausted from obligation and responsibility. She wished to go back to the days where she read about adventure and intrigue and imagined some day living that out herself. After having those words in her hands, she felt empty in her reality. Somehow, each day felt even more draining.

With the end of another workday, Gwen packed up the files that still needed to be sorted, locked up her cabinets and tugged on her coat as she waved goodbye to Kimberly and the others. A few other coworkers were chatting excitedly about the solar eclipse happening in a few minutes. Gwen, however, was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that all anyone - online or in person - could talk about was the solar eclipse, as if it was the only one that had ever been seen in this generation. When one person mentioned the eclipse, it was fine. When it was every post and every comment and every conversation, it felt a little ridiculous. Gwen couldn’t care less about the event. Getting home was her current priority. But escaping wasn’t that easy.

For the millionth time, Gwen rolled her eyes as she scrolled through the newsfeed, waiting for her car to warm up in the parking garage. The weather was cold and dreary, slowing down her progress on getting home. Puffs of steam escaped her lips in the below freezing temperature. Other employees hurried past the back of her car to get to their own tiny sanctuaries. An alert for a new email popped up at the top of the phone screen. From the quick scan of the notification, she saw that it was from her eastern history professor. He wanted to go over the latest paper from class. Oh, no. That was never a good sign.

Gwen huffed, threw her car into reverse, and pulled out of the parking space. First the papercut, now this.

Since all her classes were online, Gwen had the minor luxury to not be forced to talk to her professor face to face, which surely would have been humiliating. But it couldn’t be avoided completely. She’d email him back once she arrived home. Or maybe she’d put it off until tomorrow. Dealing with this was the last thing she wanted to do. Stress was already causing her skin to revert back to puberty, she didn’t need this as well.

Her phone rang and she struggled to answer it while carefully winding down the levels of the garage. It was Jaynie, the favorite of the roommates.

“Hey, Janie, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you were coming straight home today.”

Gwen smirked, knowing exactly where this was going.

Over the past several months, a bit of an obsession had developed with Korean dramas. The shows the two of them consumed were different from the same old, boring American television and there were years worth of stories to choose from. Currently, they were in the middle of another romantic comedy. While Gwen loved the storyline and was in a constant state of swoon, as soon as the credits started rolling, she was reminded how pathetically uninteresting her life was. But those sixty plus minutes of pure escapism made it all worth the crash that came afterwards.

Gwen tried to wait patiently in the line to leave the parking garage, but her frustration was getting the better of her. It was stop and go, stop and go, stop and go.

“I’m planning on it. That is, if people decide any day now to not drive idiotically.”

“Ugh, I had the same problem on my way home.”

Curious. Both of them worked in the downtown area. “How did you get home so fast?” Gwen asked.

“I got off a little early today.”

“Lucky.” Her accounting job often led to flexible hours. Gwen was jealous of that level of freedom.

The road was slick from the freezing rain. Weather like this brought out all the stupid drivers as if this wasn’t a yearly occurrence. She was careful to look both ways before exiting the garage and inching into the street. What she didn’t account for was the other emptying lot across the street. A large black SUV pulled out right at the same time, but went too fast, hitting the water that was slowly turning to ice on the asphalt.

With no time to react, the SUV slammed into the side of Gwen’s compact car. Glass from the driver’s side window shattered and sprayed her face. Her phone flew out of her hand. The crunch of metal hit her ears before she could fully process what had happened. With the force of the collision, her forehead slammed against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. The sound of screams echoed around her, but the words were unintelligible. Slumped over in her seat, a shadow creeped over the scene. Through the slits of her barely open eyes, Gwen watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. Then all went black.

********

The water was what brought her back. It filled her lungs and surrounded her on all sides. She flailed her limbs, desperate for traction that couldn’t be found. Her clothing weighed her down, the hems being pulled as if hands had gripped tight on them. She needed a miracle. And a miracle she got. Two hands held onto one of her wrists and pulled her to the surface.

She gasped for air as her rescuer struggled to bring her to shore. The cloth that covered her felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, making it nearly impossible to move. Water made its way up her throat, spilling over her lips. Her lungs were finally clear. They took in as much oxygen as they were allowed, burning with each brath.

“Lady Gwen! Lady Gwen!”

A young girl blocked out the bright sun. She shook Gwen’s shoulders desperately.

Gwen’s brain processed that the girl was not speaking English, but… she could understand her. The girl’s damp, dark hair was pulled into halves on either side of her face held in place by wide red straps. She looked at Gwen with deep concern, like a lifelong friend. But Gwen was sure she had never seen this girl before in her life.

“My Lady, can you hear me?” she asked frantically.

“Who are you?” Gwen finally choked out.

That made the girl pause in her panic. “What?”

Slowly regaining her strength, Gwen pushed herself up to her knees. As her eyesight cleared, she took in her surroundings. Gone were the tall metal and glass buildings, traffic lights, and speeding cars of her modern home. Now all that surrounded her were trees and a sandy beach of a large, calm lake. In the distance, wooden houses with curved rooftops, painted in bright reds and greens dotted the horizon. The heaviness that weighed her down was a dress made of too many layers and of no western fashion that she’d ever experienced before.

Whispers bounced around the rocky shore. All the faces that were looking on with concern around were unfamiliar. Gwen grabbed the hair cascading down her back, but it was still the red she knew, darker from the dampness of being pulled out of the water but still her hair.

“Where am I?” she asked in a quiet, gasping voice.

“My Lady, don’t you remember?” The girl panicked. “You’re in Songak. Goryeo.”

“Goryeo?” Gwen screeched. All the minor details she could summon up of the country came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It was information overload and her brain couldn’t handle it. Her lungs tried desperately to keep up, breathing in as much air as they could, but her throat was closing up from the panic. The landscape blurred and she fell to the ground.

********

She was in a bed this time when she regained consciousness. The room was cold and dimly lit with soft, orange candlelight. A man, Caucasian unlike the others, sat beside the bed on a stool, worry etched into every facet of his face.

“Gwen, sweet, are you all right?”

English. He was speaking English. But that was a footnote of comfort to the bigger problem. She still didn’t know what had happened to her or how she got here or who these people were that seemed to know her. The man, who was about in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, smiled down at her, though his eyes were confused. “Gwen, does it hurt anywhere? Can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Gwen took a moment, to calm down and to evaluate what she was feeling physically. Her head didn’t hurt, nor did any other part of her body. Wordlessly, she shook her head. The man seemed relieved.

“Are you all right?” He asked again, a different meaning under the question this time. “Chae Ryung said you couldn’t remember her or that we were in Goryeo? Do you at least remember your papa?”

Gwen weighed the choices in her mind. There wasn’t a mirror around, but she started to wonder if she had taken the place of someone else. Someone who knew these strangers. She could say that she didn’t know any of them - the truth - but would they think her mad if she spilled too much? Perhaps she could say she remembered a few things. Like him, if he is this poor girl’s father. Why am I here? In this time?

Choosing to comprise with herself, she gave the smallest of nods. “Papa.” Sitting up, she pulled him into a hug and there was something comforting about his embrace. This body remembered him, at least.

“What happened?” she asked after she let go.

“Chae Ryung said that you’d wandered off again and she found you, you’d been the water a long time.” The man, Papa, sucked in a breath, his eyes beginning to water. His genuine concern over her wellbeing made Gwen choke up as well. “The doctor said you stopped breathing. That could explain your lost memories.”

Good. The excuse was already in her hands. That should make it easy enough to play along while being forgiven for any missteps. But they shouldn’t be in Goryeo. That didn’t make any sense, historically. If anything, they might have been in Joseon – late Joseon. Was this some sort of alternate timeline? Or maybe she hit her head really hard in the car crash and this is really all a dream from the stress of her paper and too much K-drama.

Yes. Too much K-drama.

That had to be the explanation. This was all a strange dream. Which meant, she could play along and not be afraid. She could ask questions and live out the day until she woke back up in her own time, most likely in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her mother fretting over her.

She glanced around the room, taking in the architecture that she had only ever seen in pictures. In person, it was even more stunning and intricate. This wasn’t an ordinary citizen’s home. Interesting. What else could her brain come up with? “Why are we in Goryeo?”

“Your father’s a merchant, remember?” He spoke slowly. Each word was deliberate, giving Gwen time to process. Good filler for her mind. “I made a large fortune here and planned on taking you back home, but… your mother is buried here. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

A wave of emotion hit out of nowhere. Though her mother was alive and well, it didn’t stop a tear from escaping. “Mama.”

Papa wiped it away with a coarse finger. Gwen gasped back, surprised by the realness of the touch. Her dreams were never this intricate. The blanket strone across her lap scrunched in her fingers. It was cold and soft… and very real.

She wasn't dreaming, was she?

Confused by her reaction, Papa paused for a moment before continuing his explanation. “The eighth prince is graciously letting us stay with him while we wait on the construction of our home to be complete.”

The eighth prince?

Panic grew tenfold. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was in very big trouble. If history told her one thing, it was that proximity to royalty was the most dangerous place to be. Gwen might possibly have been able to skate by if they were simply staying in some unknown village far from the capital, but they were in a prince’s home. Which meant they were in… Songak, the capital city, just like that girl – Chae Ryung – had said. Right under the King’s nose. Breathing became difficult again. Each one was shallow, barely letting in any oxygen. Gwen could feel her chest tighten and her vision blurred.

“Gwen!” Papa jumped up and tried to keep her straight to give her lungs as much room as possible. He switched to Korean as he called out over his shoulder, “Someone, get the doctor! Now!” Shuffling sounds echoed off the floor on the other side of the sliding door and then faded away.

A minute later, breathing no better, two men and a woman rushed inside along with Chae Ryung. The older man stepped in front of Papa and took his place. He pushed Gwen’s shoulders gently until she was lying down. Two cold fingers against her wrist checked her pulse. The other, much younger man stepped up to Papa.

“What happened?”

Papa frowned. “It seems she’s lost some of her memories. I was explaining why we were here when suddenly she had trouble breathing.” He stopped, struggling with his own breath. “I’m sorry we’ve become a burden to you, Your Highness.”

Gwen’s breathing was regaining strength and she was able to concentrate on the conversation. So that was the eighth prince. He was younger than she would have guessed, handsome even, if she had to focus on something other than her lack of breath.

“Do not think such a thing,” the Eighth Prince replied. “Your presence has greatly improved the household. Lady Gwen will get better with time.”

Papa bowed, obviously grateful at the response. He turned to the woman. “Lady Hae, may I enquire after your own health?”

“Today is a better day,” she smiled, though her pale, drained complexion said otherwise. “Please, don’t worry about me. Keep your thoughts for your daughter.”

The doctor released Gwen’s wrist, satisfied with the improvement of her pulse and breathing. He stood up.

“It was a mild panic attack,” the doctor said calmly to Papa. “If it happens again, she should lie down and focus on her breathing. The incident at the lake seems to have taken a toll on her body. She simply needs rest. In time, her memories and her body will recover.”

Gwen didn’t agree with that statement fully. This body might get better in time, but there was no way memories that didn’t exist would ever return. One by one, the occupants left the room until it was only Gwen and Papa remaining behind. Silence hung in the air. After a moment, Papa sat down on the stool and took Gwen’s hand.

“I was worried I had lost you,” he whispered.

Gwen’s eyes fell down to the blanket covering her legs. Things were becoming clearer to her now. This was not a dream and she was no longer Gwen Sinclair from the twenty-first century. Something must have happened. She didn’t know what exactly had occurred or what would happen now, but she was here. And little did this man – known only to her as “Papa” – know that he had indeed lost his daughter. The face may be the same, but the Gwen inside was different. She would try her best to be good to him, at least until she found a way to get back to her own family. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

********

The next morning, the doctor, along with the Eighth Prince, came back to check on Gwen. The doctor commented that her pulse was stronger and that she seemed well on the road to full health. However, he still insisted on keeping her on bedrest.

Bored with these same walls and too curious about her temporary home, Gwen sat up. If she was going to be here for a while, she might as well get to know it. “I’m fine. Please, don’t make me stay in here all day. The sun and air is good for you, isn’t it?”

The sudden rebelliousness against the doctor’s suggestion did not seem to sit well with any of them. Gwen gave Papa a pleading look. A father couldn’t resist those eyes. He sighed, turning to the doctor. “Perhaps, a little exercise in walking around the grounds would be all right?”

The doctor looked reluctant, but he agreed. “But she shouldn’t overexert herself.”

“Chae Ryung will stay with her,” the Eighth prince ordered. “If you’ll please excuse me, I must meet with my brothers.” He bowed and left, followed by the doctor.

Having heard her name from the hallway, Chae Ryung shuffled quickly inside and over to Gwen, holding out her arms for the latter to balance on as she slid off of the bed. “Are you sure you want to go outside?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. Perhaps seeing more of this place will help jog my memory.”

Chae Ryung tilted her head. “How can your memory jog?”

Gwen snorted, both at Chae Ryung’s confusion and at herself for the slip of the modern phrase. “Sorry, I just meant, maybe my memories will come back.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was enough to make Gwen laugh again.

Gwen scolded herself internally. She had to be more careful with her words. Every step was one on thin ice. She couldn’t change who she was, not completely, but she would have to pull back. Chae Ryung, however, felt safe, like a shelter from the rain. With her, Gwen could find answers that might be dangerous to seek elsewhere. Straightening her shoulders, Gwen smiled broadly and took her newest friend’s hand. Chase Ryung grinned brightly at her and guided her out of the room.

#exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #scarlet heart au #scarlet heart ryeo #exo time travel au #exo time travel!au #exo angst #exo series #exo x oc #exo x original character #exo ot9 #Scarlet Moon

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Emp-Ire, “Patriot.”

Still working and am still in a bit of a writing slump.

I have only been able to write the very few things that REALLY interest me right now. So thank you for your patience with me going off on the occasional tangent, ok maybe more often then not going off on a tangent, but thanks anyway :)

A crisp morning breeze needled his skin, the icy tendrils causing goosebumps to break out over Adam’s bare chest and shoulders. Overhead a layer of dismal grey clouds blocked the sky over an alien landscape.

He was so tired.

And he hurt.

All around him other bodies shifted in the cool morning air, and he would have sworn he could see their breath puffing out in great gouts of steam, though that might just have been his imagination. He was so cold, what the hell was wrong with wearing a shirt, or at least some real pants.

But no, apparently pants were reserved for those who earned them, everyone else was relegated to nothing better than short leather skirts, or underwear which he found mildly infuriating. Even some compression shorts would have been nice. Another cold breeze ran past him and he crossed his arms over his chest palms pressed flat over his freezing nipples in hopes that by warming them up they wouldn’t just fall off.

Also his toes were numb, courtesy of the sandals he was wearing.

Looking around him, he could see that the other men and women didn’t appear to be nearly as cold as he was, in fact, they were probably being kept nice and warm by the sheer awesomeness of their big manly muscles or something.

Standing in a line with all of them he felt like the awkward nerd kid trying out for the football team. Each and every last one of them had washboard abs, or similar since genetics is more kind to some than to others.

And then there was him.

Chicken chest, noodle arm bastard that he was, with only the faint line of abs hanging out waiting for the moment he flexed intentionally to pretend his abs were bigger than they actually were. He hunched his shoulders just a bit, feeling very very small in comparison.

“Hey, how are you doing? Looking good everyone, looking good…. Hey…. hey.”

Adam lifted his head just in time to watch Ramirez strut up like he owned the damn place turning heads with the sheer gravity of his confidence.

He walked up to stand Next to Adam, “Fuck you, dude.”

“What?”

“How can you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Strut up like you and I aren’t literally the most pathetic people here.”

Ramirez patted him on the shoulder, “Confidence is key my friend. If you pretend to be awesome, soon you’ll believe it and eventually it will be. Self fulfilling prophecy and all of that. The mind is a powerful tool. Also chicks dig confidence.”

“What about men?”

“Them too, I don’t discriminate.” he held his arms out wide, “Everyone could do with a little bit of Ramirez in their life.” He looked at Adam pointedly, “How about you?” He flexed, “Want some of this.”

Adam snorted, paused and then said, “You know what, if I swung that way, sure.”

Ramirez put his hand over his chest, “That is probably the nicest thing you ever said to me. But the Ramirez is an open door and I open both ways.”

“You’re not a swinging door, you're a revolving door.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know man, it just sounded good. But if you were a door, you would also open from the bottom up, I just couldn’t think of an object that opened on both the x, y and z axises.”

He tapped his chin, “Gotta love how my morning has mostly involved being compared to a door, besides I don’t open to just anyone, I am age restricted, and no pets allowed.”

Adam grimaced, “Gross.”

“No I am not gross, if I was pet friendly THAT would be gross.”

Adam paused, “How about…. aliens ?”

Ramirez shrugged, “If it’s sentient, I Will try anything once. You kno, can’t knock it till you've tried it.”

It was at this moment that Adam became acutely aware that they were the only ones talking. They may have been speaking rather quietly, but at some point the other men and women had stopped speaking. He paused and turned his head to look. Ramirez’s voice faded off into the silence as the two of them turned to find a tall, heavily muscled woman standing before them. Her hair was tied back and her midriff was bare. She carried a spear in one hand and a shield in the other, and she waited very pointedly for the two of them to stop talking.

The look on her face could have coagulated his blood in his veins.

He shrunk back.

She walked up, looked at the two of them and her face pulled into an expression of disgust.

“Flabby.” She announced smacking Ramirez in the thigh with her spear. He yelped and grabbed his leg, “Soft.” The spear jabbed Adam in the belly driving the wind from his boy, “Pathetic,” She announced, “No weakness, not on my island.” She jabbed at him again and, on instinct, Adam caught the haft of the spear.

He knew pretty immediately he had made a mistake as her eyes widened, and then he was slammed to the dirt head ringing from the metal of the shield on his skull.

He groaned and rubbed at his head.

“Thank you for volunteering.”

Adam didn’t know what he had just volunteered for, but it sounded like he wasn’t going to like it very much.

As it turns out.

He was right.

She announced immediately that they were going to play a game. He thought that seemed weird for the biggest badasses this side of fake Greece but ok. But it turned out her idea of a game was just a fun way of saying I am going to make you regret you ever lived.

They were the wolves, he was the rabbit. He had a two minute head start, and then they would chase him. If he got caught, they were allowed to beat him up for a few minutes, and then he got another two minutes head start.

This lasted all morning.

About two or three hours. He couldn't tell by the end.

He had never been so exhausted in his life, andhe thought training with the Drev had been hard.

By the end he determined that they were about the same amount of hard, but the Drev didn’t do nearly as much Running. Towards the end his two minute head start counted for almost nothing, and he was in a nearly continual state of getting the shit kicked out of him. Ramirez huffed and puffed at the back of the pack like the big bad wolf had asthma.

And Adam threw up…. Three times.

Three times.

By the time it was over he was covered in bruises and could barely walk. He thought, like during training, they would get a lunch break or something, but nope by the end of the day they were back to the sandy training field where it was either, wrestling, bare knuckle boxing, sparring, or some other ungodly torture.

There was no stopping.

Occasionally, they were allowed to kneel on the dirt and have something to eat. He wasn't sure what the spartans had eaten back in the day, but this looked like meals clearly prepared by people who studied the science of getting jacked. Mostly protein and vegetables. Whatever drink they were using was some kind of water, but cut with something else he couldn’t have been sure about, probably electrolytes.

Either way he had a hard time keeping it down.

Ramirez on the other hand was part of the passing out gang.

The two of them together barely made a functioning human. And by the end of the day they crawled themselves back to what constituted as the barracks, which was just one long building with mats laid out on the floor. He was so tired that he slept like a log through the entire night until they were woken up to do it again the next day. He slept whenever he could, using anyone and anything as a pillow.

He became way more intimately familiar with Ramirez than he had ever wanted to be but at that point he was too tired to give much of a shit. Even Ramirez was too tired to say anything sarcastic or inappropriate.

He honestly couldn't have said how long they were there, every day seemed to bleed into the next with only the changing of the weather and the night to let him know anything was going on at all.

The change in himself was so gradual that he barely even noticed until one day…

“SHIELD WALL!”

Adam and Ramirez raced forward interlocking their shields with the group of men and women before them. Others piled up behind bracing their spears over the shoulders of their comrades.

“Remember the wall is only as strong as its weakest member!”

Across from them a group of other trainees raced forward and slammed against their shield wall.

Adam and Ramirez shouted their exertion.

“Push back!”

They pulled back slightly and then drove forward shoving the other recruits back and to the ground tossing a few of them bodily three or four feet back.

“BRACE!”

They returned to their interlocking position, spears bristling outward like some sort of demonic porcupine.

They did that exercise once or twice more until ordered to break off, separating into individual units which charged the other groups' spears raised.

Adam Batted another combatant’s shield aside, slammed his shoulder into the man’s chest, kicked another oncoming from the left, dodging out of the way as Ramirez covered him from the right with a sharp jab of his spear which caught another woman by the bottom of the shield and sent her deflecting to the right.

They clashed on the training field for a good half hour of continual battle, when another group of fresh, armored combatants charged them. He was tired, but as the enemy charged inward, he shook it off, roared a battle cry and charged them.

“Shields!” He ordered without thinking, and a small group of remaining fighters bunched up with him and Ramirez. They managed their wall right before the new combatants hit, “PUSH!” And with a massive have they threw them back, causing them to trip over one another. They broke their wall to take on the remaining group now fractured.

Adam went straight down the middle with Ramirez guarding his back chagrin at the armored combatants.

They were fresh, and Adam had the distinct impression that they were also not trainees.

Three of their number had already gone down under the onslaught, but he brought up his spear, knocked the shield to the side and tagged the other man with a glancing blow in the throat. He staggered away holding his neck. He spun left clobbering a woman with his shield. Ramirez cut past him stabbing straight down the middle and catching another one straight in the breastplate.

Two more of their number went down to the right.

There was no way they could make an effective shield wall now.

One more went down on their right.

Ramirez went to his knees shield held up before Adam, who used the shielding to strike past with his spear.

Ramirez ducked and Adam leaped over him crashing into another line of men shield on one side spear on the other.

The man before him went crashing to the dirt. He caught incoming strikes simultaneously and ducked under both allowing Ramirez to take one while he dealt with the other. They were split off from each other in the confusion and he didn’t see what happened as he was blindsided by another shield.

The power in that was awful, and he went flying back at least two feet staggering until he skidded in the sand and regained himself. The armored man came charging at him with a roar, and they clashed shields again. The other man was clearly stronger, though not by much. Adam strained against him, feet digging into the dirt before suddenly slacking and rolling off to the side.

It nearly caught the other man off his guard, but he was good, and caught himself before he could fall forward.

Adam snarled as they exchanged a flurry of blows. All the other combatants had backed off so the two of them could fight. He advanced pushing the other man back, though it seemed impossible that he would be able to score a hit, the other man was just too fast. It went on for a while.

Adam got tagged in the right hip, but kept fighting, it was nothing compared to the beating he had received only yesterday. He cut in again slamming his shield against the other man to throw him off balance. It didn’t do it as well as he had hoped, but for a split second he saw an opening. He would have to time it perfectly.

It was probably as much luck as it was skill that he managed to pass the spear through the little hole between the shield and man scoring a long cut across the man’s left bicep. As soon as he did someone shouted the halt, and he froze in palace.

The man before him lowered his shield and pulled off his helmet to reveal.

The King!

Adam stepped back in shock, quickly raising his spear in salute.

“Sir!”

The man smiled grimly turning to look down at his bleeding arm. He turned back to look at Adam, “Exhausted, training all day, and you still managed to cut me, I think that is a good sign.”

The entire field was returning to rest position.

Ramirez climbed out from under his shield, dazed but somehow unscathed.

“How long have you been with us now, two months maybe more.”

“I can’t remember.”

“Two months of improvement I think, and today many of these men proved themselves worthy of being real soldiers….” He turned to look at Adam, “How about yourself, what do you think you deserve?”

Adam planted his spear against the ground, “I’m still standing aren’t I.”

James, the king of sparta, laughed, “Spoken like a true Spartan.” He turned to look at the others, “I tend to agree with your assessment.” He waved a hand at those who are still standing, which included Ramirez, to Ramirez’s evident surprise.

He looked down at himself then around then grinned nodding as if it was very obvious he deserved to be there.

Adam smiled slightly.

He supposed he did.

And now that he realized it the two of them didn’t look at all out of place in comparison to the other men and women there. He stood up straighter, “Thank you, sir.”

“Just right in time then. We set out for Argos tonight, one last test before I let you go.”

The men and women raised their spears to thor king.

***

It felt good, almost familiar, with a cloak fluttering at his back, a spear in hand and a helmet on his head. Granted it was almost nothing like the Drev, but it still felt good enough that he could forgive it. He was, in fact, very proud of his accomplishment as he now stood on the rocky outcrop next to the King of the Neospartans and an entourage of warriors, his sandals feet rested hard against stone and a bare wind tugged at the red plume on the top of his helmet, the same wind that caused the red cloak to flutter behind him in the breeze.

“What is in Argos?” He wondered allowed, not entirely sure if he was allowed to ask, but curious enough to risk it.

James looked down at him from the pinnacle of rock, “You know we dislike the New Athenians?”

Adam nodded “Yeah…. About that, is it just tradition… or…”

James shook his head, “No, nothing like that. We would be fine working with them. This is a real place with real people who have their own real beliefs. It isn’t just some elaborate LARP. No, I was here when this colony started, and there was no difference between us and the New Athenians but after a while there rose some… disagreements.”

Adam tilted his head, “And what disagreements are those?”

“Moral disagreements. I am a patriot, admiral. I may be the king of Sparta, but I was also born on earth and am a True believer in the unity of the GA. Division Will only weaken us. But there are factions among the New Athenians who don’t believe the same, which would be fine. I understand a group of people who disagree with the current political system. That should be allowed by all means, but the way they are going about it is just wrong.”

“What do you mean.”

“They Are supplying information, weapons, and lodging to rebel forces who wish to destroy the GA and everything it stands for. They aren't just doing it through protests and reforms, but through violence, and hurting innocent people. They don’t care how they win as long as they do, and that is something I cannot abide. I have on good authority that some of them are working with Kree operatives and anti-alliance forces to plan assassinations against key members of government.”

Adam’s eyes widened in shock, “Really!, than why haven't we heard about this.”

James shook his head, “Despite their radical ideals, they are a very small and mostly powerless group who don’t pose much of a threat to GA members themselves. In fact, most of them are all bark and no bite. I figure that it's my job to keep my little slice of the galaxy clean, and I have managed it so far.”

Adam shook his head in surprise…. “So the Oracle….”

James nodded, “She recognized you, and likely sent you here in hopes that we would kill you for being spies, which we have done before. She honestly should have killed you herself, but the New Athenians don’t like to get their hands dirty, they like to keep their hands clean and let others do their dirty work.”

He turned to look at Adam, “Based on my studies, you are an important piece in an intergalactic chess game, holding the GA together with a volatile humanity.” He turned his head back to stare out at the horizon, “Like I said, protests, petitions, and legislation is all well and good, but as soon as your course starts to hurt innocent people you lose my sympathy. You are no longer the heroic rebel, but you are a blight and you must be stamped out.”

The fire in the man’s golden eyes was enough to make Adamstand back a little.

“I see.”

“I am glad you do, you need to see what goes on at the small scale. You need to know that there are people here fighting for you and your ideals. You built what the GA is today, whether on purpose or not, and that is something I intend to uphold.” He pointed downwards, “And we are going to start here.”

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violetnotez · 4 years

Text

HC: Telekenesis Quirk! Reader

Anonymous: You're such a good writer lmao can't relate. But Deku and Todoroki with a s/o who has a telekenesis quirk that gets harder to control the less she concentrates? Like she'll zone out and suddenly there's books stuck the the ceiling XD idk it just sounded cute to me

Ahhh thank you ya made ma heart feel all squishy :) And this is SO AdOrAbLeEeeeeeeE (PS- I havent written for Todoroki for a while so forgive me if my writing for him is a little rusty!)

(P.S.S)- I broke up the parts front Fluff and Angst for each boy because I felt this request could do well for both genres

(RULES | MASTERLIST| REQUESTS OPEN!!! :))

-----------------------------

DEKU

Fluff:

Izuku thinks your quirk is SO FREAKING COOOOOOOL

He obviously made a journal about your quirk, because you’re his girlfriend, OF COURSE he’s going to study your powers!!!

The journal first started out as just another addition to his superhero notes

He has little notes from when you two train about fighting styles would best suit you and techniques to help you control your quirk, since when you get distracted or daze off, your quirk will sometimes activate by itself

The journal was very sophisticated and platonic, really…. until it became a journal of just YOU

It's chock full of little things he loves about you, like how your laugh sounds like wind chimes that make his spine tingle in the most delicate way ever, or the way your hair smells so lovely like fruit it makes him go crazy every time he smells it

May or may not have went to the shampoo aisle of the grocery store smelling every bottle to see if its one you use

It's also full of little moments between you two that he never wants to forget

One of the most adorable things he has witnessed when your quirk took over (and, of course, wrote down-this boi has written EVERYTHING) was when you had laid your head in Izuku’s lap during a Dekusquad outing to the park

Everyone spent the whole day studying and occasionally running around like children, playing childish games, until everyone had sat down to eat and the tiredness began to set in

You were currently in a peaceful food coma, letting Midoriya play with your hair as the sun began to set, turning the sky into a beautiful mixture of oranges, pinks, and indigos

While the rest of his friends were busy playing a game of UNO, he took the time to admire how beautiful you were: your skin was tan and rosy from the sunset, your lashes thick, your lips a pretty shade of pink and slightly parted… he blushed, wondering how he had gotten so lucky to have you

Unknowing to Midoriya, you were beginning to daze off from his touch- whenever he played with your hair you were instantly calmed and, 9 times out of 10, would fall asleep

You sighed contently, allowing the softness of sleep to drape you, until….

“Y/n….y/nnn..wake up princess,” you heard your boyfriend’s sweet voice, muffled by the thickness of sleep you were still in. But something was wrong- he sounded almost ...desperate? Scared?

Your eyes shot open, a terrifying realization hitting you- you were levitating yourself.

You, of course, had done this before while sleeping, but there was always a roof over your head. Yeah, you would hit your head and it would hurt, but at least you weren’t flying into the open sky.

You gasped loudly in shock, feeling yourself drop rapidly to the ground

Izuku instantly reacted, using a tiny bit of One for All (like .00000001% of it) to make him rapidly sprint to catch you from your fall

You grasped Izuku’s shirt, feeling the soft skin and toned muscles that always made you feel safe, trying to make your heart stop pounding from the slight scare

Izuku looked down at you, blushing slightly from how quickly he reacted and how cute you looked cuddled up against him

“Are you alright?” he asked, worry laced in his tone

“Of course I am,” you replied, your voice still groggy from sleep, “you’re here.”

Angst:

*Warning: mentions of blood

You woke up, your hair matted to one side with dirt and- blood?- your head hurt, your ears ringing, the arm you landed on felt so sore you didnt even want to look down at the damage

You looked around, your vision fuzzy at the sides, trying to process what was going on- you could hear cries, screams, the crackling of fire- “that’s right” you thought, “Im fighting villians”

You then heard a voice that made your blood run cold

“I wont let you hurt her anymore!” Deku screamed, making you look desperately to find him- there he was, badly tattered and limping, holding one side of his suit, where red and purple was staining his skin, the mint green sleeve of his suit ripped away

The powerful villian laughed a cruel chuckle, advancing on poor Deku’s broken stance

“You think your little whines are going to stop me, kid? Your lucky your little girlfriend is pretty, or would have killed her by now. But a pretty little thing like that could be of use to me.”

He smiled a disgusting grin, his perverted thoughts making Deku instantly furious

“No, you won't touch her! I WONT LET YOU !” he screamed, his quirk creating a ball of green energy erupt around his body as he charged at the gigantic villain now running at him.

You stared desperately at the exchange, the whole time wondering how Izuku was even still standing while the villain looked untouched

Seeing your boyfriend charge him- you couldn't take it- you were terrified and angry and scared for his life, knowing he couldn't keep this up- he'd killed himself

“NOOOOOOOO!” you screamed with all your might, not realizing you were making the rubble around you float violently, giant pieces of fallen building flying into the sky, heading to the thing that was causing your pain- this villian who had the audacity to hurt your boyfriend

The villain tried to block the rubble from hitting him, with no luck- it overtook him, instantly burying him in a pile of rubble

Deku stared at the now silent villain, turning slowly to see you, battered and bloody, before you fell to the ground from over use of your quirk

-------------------------------------

TODOROKI

Fluff:

Todoroki first began to have feelings for you very early on- he found you to be the most beautiful girl he had ever seen with a heart made of gold.

Whenever you two talked, he felt like you treated him like a person, not the “Son-of- Endeavor”, or “The-Boy-Who-Got-In-With-Reccomendations”- you truly talked to him to get to know him for who he was

It was refreshing and irritating at the same time- he was scared of any love and affection after what his father did to his poor mother, even though he desperately needed it

After months of containing his love for you, he realized-slowly- that you liked him back

You two were both in the library, completely alone

You of course didn't think Todokroki had feelings for you, as you did for him- you had accepted that you had a pitiful one-way admiration

With Todoroki’s presence merely a few feet away, you couldn't concentrate on your studies, but you couldnt bring yourself to leave

All you wanted to do was stare at the perfect separation of red and white in his hair, the scar that felt so mesmerizing and so him, that strong jawline that always made you feel weak in the knees….

Todoroki felt the tips of hair begin to lift slightly, as if a soft breeze was carrying him up. He watched as his book began to mysteriously lift in the air, the uncanny feeling of being watched making him turn sharply to look at you, an unreadable expression on his face

Todoroki’s piercing, mismatched eyes made you break from your daze, realizing you had been staring- and had used your quirk by accident

His book slammed back onto the table, his hair flopping back to his body, tickling his skin

He watched as you instantly looked down, fidgeting to get your books together hastily together, your cheeks a bright cherry red

He thought it was pretty cute, to see you so flustered

Just as you were practically pacing out of the library to escape the embarrassing situation, Todoroki stopped in front of you, forcing you to stop as well

“I know you were staring at me.” he said matter-of-factly, making your whole face red

Why did he find that so irresistibly cute?

“I-I-I-uh-” you stuttered, having know idea what to say

You instinctively reached up to brush your hair behind your ear, but-

Todoroki grabbed your hand, his hand warm and calloused

“Would you like to accompany me... on a date tomorrow night?”He swallowed, a twinge of nervousness visible on his calm face

You stared, dumbfounded at the mysterious boy in front of you, not knowing really how things turned so well for you

“I-uh-yes!” you smiled, “I’d love to.”

Angst:

You watched helplessly as the whole forest erupted in flames, the orange tendrils lciking up the sides of the trees, dangerously close to your reddened face

“What was going?” you thought desperately “How did I get here?” Everything was destroyed, every object turning to ash before you...you had to get out...but where was Todoroki?

You began running, flying through the charred leaves as the flames crackled around you

You didn't know where you were going, until you were met with a clearing, the once healthy grass now nothing but dirt and ash that was attacking your airways

A fierce battle was going on, it definitely being the source of the flames- both attackers were fire wielders, going at each other mercilessly- but one of the attackers was different-he was using ice as well

“Todoroki!” you tried to yell, unable to use your throat- it was like someone was choking you, making you unable to talk

You tried to move, to grab your boyfriend and escape, but- you couldn't move. None of your body parts working properly.

You stood there paralyzed, helpless to the situation, unable to move as you watched your boyfriend fight his father, Endeavor, no mercy being evident on either side

Panic flooded your system, only able to watch as the battle began to go in Endeavor's favor, your lover getting hurt more and more and more...

Todoroki rolled over, reaching out his hand to find the warmth of your body, confused to find that you weren’t beside him

He had at first groggily thought you had gotten up to go to get some water, only to look up and be shocked out of his sleepiness

You were floating a foot above the place you were sleeping, your body in the shape of a “T”

Your arms were limply spread out, away from your body, as your head lolled back as if someone was pulling the strands of your hair

“Y/n!” he gasped, quickly pulling you back to the bed

You face was contorted in such a look of pain, Todoroki then began to realize you must be having a nightmare

He began to shake you awake gingerly, calling you by your name and his pet names he had for you

You finally woke up, gasping loudly as if you had been drowning in water

You looked around, panting, not recognizing where you were at first, finally realizing you were in the strong arms of your boyfriend

“How did you-what happened-I” you asked confused, grasping his face between your hands and just relishing the feeling of his skin, his scar, his hair, terrified this was a dream and your nightmare was real

“You were having a nightmare,” Todoroki stated, placing a hand above the one you had on his cheek, “but youre okay, I got you now. Youre safe.”

-----------------------

Requests open!!!!

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lonelyghosts-stuff · 3 years

Text

Loki-Character Analysis (and Rant lol)

Idk if anyone will see this and I frankly don't care too much, just kind of ranting and venting. (for context I am not necessarily in the healthiest head space as of now so my emotions could be more extreme than they normally would be)

Loki's death is really hitting hard for me again. The fact he went from a mischievous kid who just wanted his father's recognition, to sabotaging his brother's coronation to lead up to defeating the Jotuns for his father and proving himself worthy as Thor, in the process finding out his life was a lie and that he himself was a Jotun who was abandoned, to giving up his life only to be found by Thanos to be threatened and manipulated (idc what anyone says, Loki was definitely tortured during his time with Thanos. How else could you explain how sickly and gaunt he looked when he first showed up in Avengers?) to losing his mother and protecting a mere mortal just because his brother cared for her, also willing to sacrifice himself for her and his brother, to finally having a period of success, only to witness his father die, see his home destroyed, and then ultimately get killed by Thanos as he tried to kill him to protect Thor.

He had an arc. He grew. And then he died. While we will get Loki in the new Disney+ series, he will never be the same Loki unless they find a way to implant the experiences of the prime Loki into this one. While I have no doubt he will be shown key points of his alter variant self's life, seeing them from an outer perspective cannot substitute for the experiences themselves.

Loki was such a complicated character who, while sometimes seeming inconsistent, was consistently inconsistent within the nature of his chaotic and mischievous character. He cared. He wanted recognition and to be viewed as equal to his brother. Along the way he got lost and found and twisted even more. Notice how in Thor 1, he never killed anyone other than Jotuns. While he did endanger other humans, he never killed them despite being easily able to do so with the destroyer automaton. And when it came to his brother, he had the perfect chance to blast him, but resorted to a backhand; and while that could have proven to be fatal, when it came down to it, Loki couldn't bring himself to do it the easy way. Deep down he still wanted to be on equal terms. That's why when Thor returned to Asgard, Loki kept instigating Thor, trying to rile him up so he would fight him. He ended up resorting to threatening harm upon Jane just to get his brother to treat him as equal and a worthy opponent. He denied familial connection to Odin and Thor, trying to convince himself that the reason he will never be viewed as equal with Thor is that he is a Jotun, the "monster parents tell their children about". In the end, when Odin still wouldn't show any more sympathy to Loki or try to reason with him, instead just telling him "no", Loki gave up. He was willing to accept whatever happened to him when he let go and he fell into the collapsing portal of the bifrost.

Cut to the first avengers, he is clearly very changed. He's sickly, gaunt, and weakened, needing support just getting onto the back of the truck for Clint Barton to drive him away on. His eyes are sunken in, he's greasy and slow, and borderline sociopathic. He clearly experienced something that turned him into this. We already know the scepter influenced his mind and that Thanos threatened him eternal suffering that would make pain look sweet if he didn't get the tesseract. But I steadfast refuse any statement someone could give me saying he wasn't tortured or manipulated by Thanos or his followers. Loki quickly goes in for the attack when he arrives on Earth, killing without hesitation or regret. When Thor confronts him on Stark tower, for even just the most fleeting second, he pauses. He knows what he's done and that he's gone too far. Even when he doesn't back down, he doesn't try to kill Thor. He simply, or, well, "simply" stabs him and runs off knowing very well it would take much more than that to kill his brother.

When he is brought to Asgard for imprisonment, his pride and guilt eat away at him. He refuses to acknowledge what he did as wrong to anyone, but he is very well aware of his actions the weight of them. The person who affects him the most being his mother, the one who always showed love for him and Thor equally. He tries to hide this knowledge, denying her being his mother as well since he is of Jotun blood, but he cares for her greatly still and can't help but feel guilty for how she sees him now. He still strives for chaos and when the Dark Elves invade, he mischievously points them in the direction of the throne room, not knowing their full capabilities, but living for the potential chaos to ensue. Of course this leads to his dear mother being killed. Loki is furious, broken, and lost. His actions have gone too far, causing the woman he loved the most and felt loved him more than anyone else to die. Thor can easily see through his illusions proving that Loki has shown his adoration for Frigga enough that even Thor knows of it. When they finally get to the Dark World, Loki tries getting under Thor's skin again, but also in an attempt to understand him. He prods at Thor's feelings for Jane and reminds him that her life is but a brief moment in their own lifetimes. They bicker and scuffle on the ride to their destination, but it is ultimately resolved by Loki's declaration that Thor can trust his rage, his rage at Frigga's death. When there, we see Jane in direct danger twice. Both times, Loki throws himself in harms way to protect her, seeing her both as vulnerable but also something that Thor cares for. Loki then proceeds to save his brother's life, being willing to sacrifice his own for him as well. Knowing his wound is not fatal, but also being fully aware of his skills in trickery and illusions, not only does Loki trick Thor into believing he is dead, but he also takes the opportunity to try to relieve his conscience; he apologizes. He then follows it up by saying that he didn't do what he did to make Odin proud or acknowledge him, not this time. He did it for the one who truly cared for him and showed it, Frigga. This gave Loki the opportunity to discreetly get back to Asgard and exile Odin and take his place. Now, Loki got the respect and adoration he felt he deserved. But it would only last for so long.

When Thor gets wind of Loki's antics, they both find themselves eventually facing down Odin and him passing away, but not before telling them that he's proud of them and loves them. Even Loki tears up here. He feels somewhat that it's his fault for Odin's passing, but he also feels empty after finally hearing Odin give him what he thought he always wanted. Hela arrives and Loki tries to reason with her; perhaps thinking he can relate to her and handle the situation. Unfortunately, Loki and Thor get separated for a while, eventually reuniting, but on opposite ends of the social class on Sakaar. Loki could easily continue to bask in his new status over Thor, but still decides to help him when h found him in the waiting area for the fighters (even though he eventually tried to betray him later when he realized he could regain what status he had and that he viewed escape futile and pointless with Hela still around). In the end, despite him having the chance to escape and run off, he returns to Asgard to help fight. He even proves key in defeating Hela as he revives Surtur, also grabbing the tesseract on the way. He doesn't hide. He doesn't show bitterness. He returns to the ship alongside his brother. (despite how much Waititi gave a middle finger to the writing and characterization of the characters, I am still trying my best to piece good Loki moments from Thor Ragnarok and fit it into Loki’s personality given that Ragnarok is considered MCU canon).

Thanos attacks. He has Thor in a precarious situation, threatening to kill him if Loki doesn't give him the tesseract. Loki tries to hold out as long as possible, knowing the consequences of giving it to the mad titan, but eventually yields when he sees no other way to save his brother; after giving it to Thanos, he immediately goes to Thor's side to protect him. When Thanos took down Hulk, Loki realizes the only chance they have to get out of there alive is to use his trickery. He proclaims himself Loki, prince of Asgard and, most impressively, Odinson. He accepts who he is. He acknowledges he is the rightful heir to Jotunheim, but he also knows that, even if not by blood, he is Thor's brother, and Odin and Frigga's son. Unfortunately, he rushes to action quite recklessly, potentially undermining the power Thanos has already with even just the two infinity stones he as acquired. Loki is killed. Neck snapped from the pressure of Thanos choking him. He died trying to protect his brother. Trying to fight for the good fight. Died at the hands of the man who twisted him in the first place and promised him suffering if he didn't deliver the tesseract.

Loki may have started out as a dark antagonist, then to a twisted villain, and eventually progressing to an Anti-Hero, but he died a hero.

This just breaks me. He was such a loveable and complicated character. He had many faults, faults he battled with every day. When it came down to it, he threw his own life down for his brother.

It upsets me he died so quickly and seemingly so pointlessly within the first ten minutes of Infinity War. But he also served a great, if I may, glorious purpose. He brought the Avengers together in the first place, and died trying to make sure another one of them, and his own brother, could live on to fight and stop Thanos.

Loki will always be my favorite character and hero and villain simultaneously in the MCU. And I couldn't thank Tom Hiddleston enough if I got the chance for his stellar performance of this fantastic and complicated character who helped bring the Avengers together, even if unintentionally.

#Loki #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Marvel #MCU #Marvel Cinematic Universe #The Avengers #Avengers #Thor #Thor Dark World #Thor Ragnarok #Avengers Infinity War #Avengers Endgame #Avengers End Game #writing #analysis #character analysis

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thecocchamchronicle · 4 years

Text

Title: Lean on Me

Summary: Finan distracts Y/N while she is being treated by a healer (Requested by @emberoflife)

Words: 1294

Warnings: mentions of gore, blood, injury

A/N: The healer character’s name is Sundhed, which means health in Danish. Just a fun little fact!

“RUN Y/N! COME ON!” “THEY’RE COMING!” Uhtred’s men shouted frantically over each other.

The muscles of your legs ached beyond belief and you weren’t sure how much farther you they would carry you. The rushing wind deafened all other noises but the huffing of your breath. Your lungs fared no better and burned with every puff of your chest. Of all the time you spent running, this was by far the fastest you’d ever run. Was it the adrenaline coursing through your veins? Or the fear of being caught by Sigefrid and Erik’ army? Surely the answer didn’t matter. What mattered was reaching safety behind the shield wall.

Within an instant you found yourself on the dewy and cold ground of the earth. A blood curdling scream escaped your throat without effort. Surges of excruciating pain shot through your body. It felt as though you had been struck down by a bolt of Thor’s lightning. You turned to discover what had caused your downfall. An arrow had pierced your outer thigh. It had entered your flesh from the back and poked out the front. Another arrow had sliced your side, but hadn’t been in-bedded.

Erik and Sigefrid’s army was closing in. The warriors’ shouting became a roar and you could almost feel the power of their horses’ stampede.

“Y/N!” Finan panicked.

“Open the shield wall!” Uhtred commanded.

The men separated their shields, creating an opening for Finan to retrieve you. Without a thought, Finan rushed forward, scooping you up in one fell swoop. He stammered backwards, carrying you behind the shield wall.

He turned quickly on his heals and was now facing the crowd of his fellow warriors. “MAKE WAY!” he bellowed.

The men obeyed and parted, creating an clear path for Finan and you to escape to a more secure location.

Finan cradled you closely against his chest. He sprinted through the forest, dodging any and all obstacles that came his way.

“Ya’re going to be just fine Y/N. I’ve got you.”

You tried to focus on his reassuring words and the comfort of his arms around you, but the pain was all consuming. The energy was quickly draining from your body and your eyelids became heavy.

“Hey! Stay awake.” Finan shook you gently.

Finally the tents of the camp were in sight.

Finan grabbed the first man he laid eyes on. “You! Fetch Sundhed, tell him we need him in Y/N’s tent.” Finan demanded.

The man did not question the Irishman, he only nodded and sprinted off to find the healer.

Finan slowed down as exhaustion began to take over. But for your sake, he forced himself to continue on. Once at your tent, Finan slipped inside and placed you down carefully on the furs of your bed. A few moments later, Sundhed appeared in the open flaps of the tent’s fabric.The healer was tall and muscular, his arms covered in aged scars. Dirty blonde hair framed his angular face. It was tousled and dreaded, but pulled up and out of his face, like most Danish men.

“What happened to her?” Sundhed asked.

“She took an arrow to the leg. And it looks like another one grazed her side.” Finan explained.

Sundhed nodded silently and set to work. He unpacked his sack of healing supplies, which included herbs, home made remedies and other various tools of his trade.

“Finan, it will help if you hold her down.” he said.

Your friend obeyed, grabbing your ankles and pinning them down against the bed.

“Ready?” Sundhed asked.

You balled your hand into a fist and bit down on it. Despite being vastly unprepared for the inevitable pain, you nodded.

With an intense snap, Sundhed broke the finned ends off the arrow. Your legs writhed against your will and Finan was there to steady them. He struggled to hold your flailing limbs and was surprised at your strength. Though it was true that over the years he’d seen injured men that seemed to have gained almost god-like strength when being healed.

You tried to calm yourself but the attempts were futile. Finan noticed your chest heaving and he thought you might faint.

He looked you in the eyes. “Just breathe, Y/N.”

His voice was soothing and you did as you were told. You clenched your eyes shut and focused solely on breathing. Without warning Sundhed began to slowly remove the wooden rod of the arrow from your thigh. Another scream ripped through your throat and was distorted by your fist. If someone were to walk past your tent, they surely would have thought it was a wounded animal making these noises, not one of their fellow warriors.

Surely there was no pain between Valhalla and Hel worse than this. Sundhed gave you a moment to compose yourself, before moving onto the next portion of his healing process. Finan released your legs and knelt by your side.

“It’s alright, just, here hold my hand.”

Your bloodied hand tightened around Finan’s calloused palm. His skin was warm to the touch and you were thankful he was there to comfort you.

“You’ve got the grip of a bear’s jaw.” He quirked a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Sundhed quickly began sterilizing your wounds. He gently wiped the surrounding gore with a clothe and poured a mysterious liquid directly onto both wounds.

Your head fell back in agony against the furs on the bed. Your mind betrayed you and choose to only focus on the pain. Tears trickled over your eyes and fell onto the cheeks below. Finan rubbed over your hand softly. His touch grounded you back in reality.

The final step of Sundhed’s process was bandaging up the wounds to keep them from infection and further harm. He began and tried to work as quickly and gently as possible. He tightly wrapped your thigh with long strips of cloth, tying the pieces into a firm knot once he finished. The healer did the same with the wound at your side, though he left some slack in the fabric, allowing you to move and breathe.

“You’ll need to clean the wound and change the bandages once a day if you want to heal properly. I’ll leave this cleansing remedy for you. Come by should you need more.” Sundhed instructed.

“Thank you.” you said meekly.

Sundhed nodded and exited your tent. Through the opening, you and Finan could both see Uhtred and Sihtric peeking inside.

Finan gently brushed his hand against your arm. “Will you be alright if I step out for a moment?” he asked softly.

You gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I think I’ll survive.”

“I’ll be right back.” he stepped out of the tent to join the worrying warriors.

“How is she?” Uhtred inquired.

Finan sighed. “Sundhed said if we keep her wounds clean and covered in fresh bandages that she should recover. She’s been through hell today but she’ll pull through, I’m sure of it.”

“That’s relieving news.” Sihtric added.

“It is. I think I will stay with her a while, be here in case she needs anything.” Finan said.

Uhtred and Sihtric patted Finan on the back and headed off to inquire on any other important happenings that occurred during the battle.

Finan reentered your tent to find you asleep. Surely your body had had enough and succumbed to exhaustion. Finan was happy to see a peaceful expression on your face after all the pain you’d been through.

Finan suddenly realized how drained he, himself was. He shuffled forward and plopped down onto the ground next to your bed. He would be there, should you be requiring any help. Finan vowed to himself that he’d be there for you as long as you needed his comfort.

⚔️PART TWO?⚔️

#the last kingdom #last kingdom fan fic #last kingdom oneshot #finan x reader #finan #finan imagines #finan oneshot #finan fan fic #last kingdom writing #finan fluff #finan x reader fluff #last kingdom blog

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moonbeambucky · 5 years

Text

Know It All

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [College AU] Word Count: 5300 Warnings: fluff, minor angst

Summary: Your grades and patience are tested when you’re paired together for a class project with the one person you cannot stand, Bucky Barnes.

A/N: This is my submission for @jaamesbbarnes and @sgtjbuccky Milestone Celebration Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Looking for trouble, are we?” I cannot thank Sam @buckyofthemyscira enough for being a wonderful beta and helping me get on track when I was so lost with this and to Allie @all1e23 for her help with a plot conflict. My mind was working against me on this one but I hope it turned out well. gif source (x)

The brisk air of autumn winds fill your lungs as you stepped outside, energizing your body faster than the coffee you finished not long ago. Coffee was practically a requirement as a college student, a must for an early Monday morning class, especially when that class is calculus, taught by the nice but a little stiff and robotic Professor Vision.

Leaves crunch under your boots as you walk to the building for your next class. It’s a short distance away yet still you pick up your pace, huffing as you rush towards Lee Hall so you could get a good seat for your next class which happened to be your favorite.

If there was anyone more excited than you about American History it was Professor Coulson. You had first taken his introductory class a few semesters back and found he had an excellent way of bringing out new details to a subject you thought you were well versed in.

Naturally, when he was teaching another class you needed for your requirements you jumped on the chance at signing up. As you walked into the large lecture hall you glanced to the left, greeting Professor Coulson with a cheerful smile, a smile that dropped the moment you noticed someone was in your seat.

You stomped your way up the steps to get to the fourth row, stopping dead center at the incredibly annoying person you knew was testing your patience.

“Move Barnes, you’re in my seat,” you huffed, arms crossing over your chest.

A sly smirk spread across the face of Bucky Barnes, a person you could sum up in one word, slacker.

“I don’t see your name on this chair, doll.” He winked; a simple gesture that made your anger boil over.

Class was about to begin so you sat down, leaving a seat in between so you didn’t end up in part of MCU history as the girl that strangled a classmate during class.

Bucky was the only damper on an otherwise perfect class. He didn’t take notes, he didn’t participate and he didn’t ever study. If Professor Coulson called on him it was like Bucky had no idea what the class was even doing. He would always stutter as he tried to catch up, turning towards you as he sighed after successfully bullshitting his way through another question; which pissed you off even more, because despite an open lecture hall with plenty of seats Bucky Barnes chose to sit next to you.

It was obvious you were a smart student. Your hand raised every time to be called on, you took amazingly detailed notes and aced every test, which is why you had a feeling a certain someone decided his new spot would be beside you. Cheater.

If he only studied and gave a shit about his grades he wouldn’t have to try to copy off you. Well you made sure he couldn’t. During tests you hunched over your desk, curving your arm around your paper to protect the answers you spent countless hours studying for.

Throughout class you tried to ignore the eyes you felt on you, seeing Bucky’s goofy smile through the corner of your eye. He was not going to succeed in distracting you. Nope.

You were going to continue listening to this lecture about World War II and not at all think about the way Bucky’s bright white teeth stand out against the scruff of his face. He’s probably too lazy to shave just like he’s too lazy to study.

Bucky let out a chuckle when he heard you humph under your breath. His audible laugh caused you to whip your head in his direction, flaring your eyes at him before they rolled back into your head.

“By Wednesday I hope everyone will have read pages 346 to 403 just in case something pops up,” Professor Coulson said, smiling to the large hall.

Grabbing your laptop you placed it neatly in your bag, tucking away a small notepad you kept out just in case and made sure your pens were capped tightly before they went into their own separate compartment.

“Wow, you’re such a nerd.”

You looked up disdainfully at Bucky’s large frame standing over you.

“The world won’t end if you misplace a pen, you know.”

You don’t respond. Tossing your bag over your shoulder you walked down the steps, calling out to Professor Coulson with a big smile as you waved him goodbye.

“Later Phil,” Bucky said as he left.

You rolled your eyes again at his boldness. Sure Professor Coulson said you could call him by his first name but it still seemed inappropriate. Of course Bucky didn’t care.

As you continued walking down the hall, you felt a presence beside you.

“So, are you going out for lunch now or are you going to head to the library like always? There’s plenty of time in the world to study, you could take a little break you know.”

Your lips scrunched together as you frowned, picking up your pace as your feet took you faster to anywhere that was away from Bucky.

“You just gonna ignore me?”

Your fists tightened so hard they were shaking, itching to feel release if you could only punch the smirk off Bucky that you knew he had.

“Doll?”

You spun around immediately, pointing a finger in his face.

“I’m not your doll so stop saying that! Why are you bothering me? We’re not friends. Just stay away from me Barnes.”

Bucky remained in his place as he watched you turn the corner, huffing with anger. His lips stretched out flat, an uneasy smile that gave way to a small frown, wishing things were different.

Professor Vision rambled on for an extra five minutes and would not let the class go, meaning now you had to run to Lee Hall if you were going to be on time for your next class.

Beads of sweat ran down your temple as you finally got into the building, panting as you raced up two flights of stairs. Your heart was pounding like a drum against your chest as you attempted to catch your breath during the power walk to the room.

It was bad enough you were probably going to be late, with eyes on you as walk through the door, now everyone was going to see you looking like a sweaty mess on top of it.

As you pulled the door open expecting the worst you were surprised to find that no one was looking at you. Professor Coulson was addressing the class as he was discussing something he had put up on the large screen.

Even though you wanted to see what it was you needed to take your seat which was surprisingly open. Bucky was sitting in the same row a few seats away but he had left your seat open.

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, watching as you anxiously got yourself in order. It was unlike you to be thrown off from your usual precision.

“Incredible Bucky.” Professor Coulson admired the photo. “Where was this taken?”

“After the Battle of Azzano.”

Your head turned towards Bucky as he answered, with a wide eyed stare of disbelief having never heard him speak in class before, not in a real class anyway…

Before your mind wandered somewhere you didn’t want to revisit you straightened up, finally looking at the screen. It was a black and white photo of a group of soldiers, arms thrown over each other smiling despite some visible injuries; a bandage wrapped head, cuts and scrapes along their faces.

“Can anyone tell me what happened in the Battle of Azzano?” the professor asked again.

Your hand naturally shot up, smiling widely as you were called on. “About 200 members of the 107th infantry were captured by the Nazi’s, with their Captain leading an unsanctioned rescue mission to free them.”

“Correct. It nearly got him a dishonorable discharge but instead his superiors believed his actions in saving lives of not only U.S. Military but British and French soldiers who were captured as well should be awarded with a special medal, the Shield of Bravery.”

Again you felt Bucky’s gaze on you and turning your head your suspicion was confirmed. His smile was soft as he stared at you, his eyes expressing a strange aura of... Joy? Pride? You’re not quite sure and honestly you didn’t want to find out. Your head stiffened as you set your own gaze forward to begin taking notes.

As promised Professor Coulson “surprised” everyone with a pop quiz, one you know you would have aced regardless of the day you spent studying.

“Okay class, time is up. Pass your quizzes forward.”

Rustling paper echoed throughout the hall as you added your quiz to the pile you were given, walking it over to the person that sat in the row below you a few seats to the left.

“I’m gonna let you all leave early…” the Professor’s sentence was interrupted by a roar of cheers. “...but first I want to give you a heads up for an upcoming project. The details are posted online. Let’s say it’s due in 2 weeks?”

A wave of groans echoed from the back of the hall.

“Alright, 3 weeks.” He smiled as the new date went over a lot better. “Let’s make this simple, whoever you’re sitting closest to is your partner, if anything is uneven just join the nearest group. See you all next Monday!” he said, closing his laptop.

Panic flooded your body like a tidal wave, crashing down and dragging you under. It was hard to breathe, realizing the one person you wanted nothing to do with was going to be your partner for this project.

Bucky wore a smirk that made you roll your eyes and groan.

“Looks like we’re partners.” You didn’t respond.

With deep breaths you put your things away and got up, exiting the room and savoring your final moments of peace. Bucky shrugged his bag over his shoulder following you out.

You pushed open the door to the stairway, a forceful shove as a final act of letting out the anger you felt for being partnered with Bucky.

“We might as well get started,” you said, as you began descending the stairs.

“Get started?” Bucky scoffed, “It’s due in 3 weeks. We have time, doll.”

You shook your head. Of course Bucky wants to be lazy and save everything until the last minute. Well, that’s not how you do things.

“Don’t call me doll, and just because it’s due in 3 weeks doesn’t mean we can’t start now. Plus I want to get this over with.”

Bucky skipped ahead to hold open the door for you. “Uh huh, you mean you don’t want to spend more time with me?”

His tone was light and playful as his face became almost cherubic, batting his eyelashes, his lips pulling into a sweet smile that was almost convincing if you didn’t already know him.

Your face twisted incredulously. “Why would I want to spend time with you?” You shrugged your long knit cardigan closer over your body as you passed him, stepping outside into the chilly air.

Bucky scoffed again, his patience beginning to run thin. “Please doll, you’d be lucky to spend time with me.”

“Yeah right!” you chuckled, walking aimlessly beside him. “Your little act didn’t get passed me today Mr. ‘I’m going to kiss the professor’s ass with an old picture I found because that’s a great way to distract him before a quiz.’ You know it would be a lot easier if you just studied!”

Bucky’s smile soured into a sneer. “Oh like you, Miss ‘I’m scared of letting loose and actually having a good time so I’ll drown myself in studying as an excuse to be a stick in the mud,’” he mocked with a higher pitch in his voice.

“You don’t know anything about me!” you snapped, stopping on the walkway to yell at him, ignoring the looks of curious students as they passed by.

Cocking his head Bucky smirked, “Actually I do. Maybe you pushed it down but I remember you. Drama 101 with Professor Laufeyson two years ago.”

His words carry you back to the open room, where a black tiered platform with more chairs than students sat across from a stage. It wasn’t very large but the burden of stepping on it sat like a boulder in your stomach.

You remember it vividly, standing in the center as the bright lights burned away your confidence. The words of your monologue became a scramble of alphabet soup in your mind. Terrified and shaking, you stood silent in front of the class until a meek apology croaked its way out.

Head hanging low with disappointment as you sat back in your seat, watching as the rest of the class did what you couldn’t do. You hated how acting came so easy to them; to be a different person, to let go. Bucky did that with ease.

You envied him and his ability to be free and act silly or speak with a weird voice. He could do whatever the role demanded and you hated it. You hated not being good at something, hated that you couldn’t get over your insecurities, and you hated that Bucky could do something you were too afraid to do yourself.

“He was begging you to break out of your shell but you couldn’t. Guess you can’t study your way to an A for everything.”

Tears burned their way to your eyes at the sharpness of Bucky’s words. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?” You had no other comeback, you couldn’t fight the truth.

Before you gave him the chance to say anything else you took off. Feet pounding on the pavement as you raced to get as far away from Bucky Barnes, the biggest asshole you’ve ever met.

Bucky didn’t show up the following Monday. It was a relief to not have to face him after the way you left things. Not because you cared about him; you were more concerned with hoping he didn’t see you cry.

His absence didn’t stop you from thinking about him. While trying to pay attention to the lesson you cursed Bucky out in your head. Cutting class… what are we in high school? What’s the point of paying for college if you don’t even show up? But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything.

On Wednesday Bucky strolled into class just as it began. He trudged up the steps stopping at the row in front of yours. You expected him to move towards the center in front of you but instead you watched him shrug off his backpack, slouch into the chair and pull out his laptop.

Throughout class you kept glancing over towards him. His screen remained blank, turning black after neglect as Bucky rested his cheek against his palm, elbow propped up on the desk. Go home if you want to sleep during class!

When class ended you saw Bucky waiting for you at the door. With a deep breath you prepared yourself for whatever he was going to say.

“Hey,” Bucky said with much less enthusiasm than usual. You stared at him, giving a silent acknowledgement with a raise of your brows. “I need your number.”

Your response denying his request shot out like a speeding bullet. You didn’t even have to entertain the idea. Giving someone like Bucky your number would be an invitation to middle of the night calls, pranks or worse.

“How are we going to work on the project then?”

“Work on the project? That’s funny,” you laughed dryly, shaking your head.

His brows furrowed and just as Bucky was going to speak again you cut him off.

“Forget the project Barnes. I’ll do it myself and you can slap your name on it. Let’s be honest, I’m sure that’s what would have happened anyway.”

Maybe it was a harsh truth but it was a truth you knew from experience. It would be easier to complete the work on your own and have Bucky stand up there when it was time to present. He shouldn’t complain anyway, this would be an easy A for him.

“You’re a real bitch Y/N.”

Your jaw dropped open as you turned to face Bucky. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, jaw clenching tight as his ocean blue eyes were set ablaze.

“Excuse me? How dare y–”

He lifted his hand as he began to talk over you. “All this time I’ve tried to be your friend, since Drama! I say hello, I ask how you’re doing and all you do is ignore me.”

As Bucky ran his hands through his hair he turned his head away from you for a moment and you could swear the light reflected a watery shine in his yes. “You hate me for whatever reason and I don’t know why I kept trying but you don’t know shit about me!”

He began to walk away before coming back. “For the record, that picture was of my grandfather. His funeral was 2 days ago but I guess you’re too much of a selfish know-it-all to give a shit.”

Bucky stomped away this time for good, leaving you alone in the hallway feeling like absolute shit.

After finally motivating yourself to move, your feet took you to the library. Setting up your laptop you decided to do a little studying, but instead of academics you focused on researching something unknown, Bucky Barnes.

Finding him on Facebook was easy. Last year you made friends with Peggy Carter during your shared anthropology class and she happened to be dating Steve Rogers, aka Bucky’s best friend. On Steve’s profile you searched for “Bucky” and surprisingly nothing came up. When you searched “Barnes” you saw his profile, James Barnes.

Well that was something unexpected. How did you not know Bucky’s real name was James? A quick glance of his profile doesn’t show much information seeing as the most recent post was a meme someone named Sam tagged him in over a year ago. Great.

Looking at Bucky’s friends you were more successful in finding the profiles of his family. His father George rarely posted anything except for some comments on baseball and a sweet picture of what had to be Bucky’s sister. Dressed in a cap and gown, she was surrounded by her parents and Bucky, holding a diploma in her hand. Must be high school. She’s definitely younger than Bucky.

His mother Winifred’s page was a goldmine of information. It was George’s father who passed away. Henry James Barnes, a decorated World War II veteran who earned a purple heart after losing his arm in battle.

She posted several pictures of Henry throughout his life; some with his wife and the large family they had, a newspaper clipping of him with his oldest son Charles at 1955 World Series when the Brooklyn Dodgers won and the one Bucky shared with the class.

Every picture told the story of a loving husband and father who became a grandfather many times over. And there it was. Henry sitting on a floral couch holding baby Bucky against him. It made sense, clearly Bucky was named after him, and based on the other pictures posted they were very close.

You felt compelled to learn more about Bucky, going through his mother’s old posts and photos to see what you might find and what you uncovered seemed unbelievable. Student of the Month. Honors Society. The Dean’s List. Bucky was… a good student?! No, not just good, he was an excellent student.

You sat back against the hard chair wondering why you judged Bucky as hard as you had. He had never done anything personally to you for you to hold a grudge, and as you thought about what he said earlier he was right.

In Drama he tried to talk to you, tell you it’s okay, to shake it off your nerves and go for it, but you brushed him off, twisting his kindness into a condescending lecture. Even in History, when he saw you had class again together his eyes lit up. He sat beside you, asked how you’ve been and you gave him the cold shoulder.

Everything you thought you knew about Bucky Barnes was wrong and you needed to find him to apologize. You walked around campus hoping to run into him but that was useless. Now you regret not exchanging numbers.

The need to speak to Bucky grew as the days passed. Studying was nearly impossible. You couldn’t think about anything except him. Then you felt it, that aha moment. You were looking for Bucky in the wrong place.

It took a bit of digging to find Bucky’s Instagram (thankfully Steve still had his connected to his Facebook) but there it was, his life on display through vibrant pictures. Coney Island at night caught your eye, from the bright lights of the rides and games against the dark midnight sky, to other pictures of the Brooklyn Bridge with a beautiful sunset glow.

Your lips tugged into a smile while looking at Bucky surrounded by Steve and a few other friends but when you came across an old picture of him obviously drunk your smile grew into a large grin that stretched across your face.

Bucky was a mess, with glossy eyes that didn’t quite focus, long messy hair sticking to his sweat covered brow and yet he had the brightest, cutest smile ever, all while clutching a Kermit the Frog plush.

The most recent photo was of him and his grandfather with a touching caption that made your heart do a funny flip in your chest.

The circle around his profile picture turned pink and suddenly you wondered if you should click on it. If you do, he’ll know you were stalking his page but there’s a chance his story could tell you where he is. If you don’t you’ll have to wait two more long and torturous days before you can apologize.

You wanted to stop, to let it all go and begin studying for the weekend but you couldn’t. You were wrong and needed to make things right.

Click.

It’s a photo of a beer bottle with condensation dripping down onto the counter top, a faint glow of red from the lights behind the golden bar. Thankfully he tagged the location, Starks.

Quickly you changed out of lounge pants and threw on some jeans and boots, grabbing the nearest jacket and wrapping a scarf around your neck. With your phone in hand you headed out to the bar, hoping Bucky would still be there.

There was a small crowd beside the entrance, people you would normally feel intimidated by but you pushed on, passing them without hesitation as you were determined to find Bucky. Rock music blared as your eyes scanned all the people sitting at the bar but Bucky was not one of them.

A man behind the counter with dark eyes and finely sculpted facial hair made eye contact with you, flashing a big smile. You nodded back, smiling but moving along. Drinks were the last thing on your mind, although if you didn’t find Bucky you were seriously considering drowning your sorrows in whatever libation would take your guilt away the quickest.

You were nearly ready to give up until you heard it, the sound of Bucky’s laughter. You followed it towards the back, seeing a row of pool tables with Bucky on the end. He was accompanied by Steve and someone with a contagious laugh and gap-toothed smile.

Watching from afar you were happy to see Bucky happy and joking with his friends. Apparently you hadn’t blended into the crowd well enough as Bucky lifted his head and caught you in the gaze of his blue eyes.

“Well, well,” Bucky began. Since there was no point in hiding you walked towards him. “Looking for trouble, are we?”

Your heart began to race and you weren’t sure if it was from the flirtatious tone in his voice paired with the smirk he would not stop staring at you with or the fact that he looked damn good.

A simple grey sweater has never looked better, stretched across his muscular frame you never quite paid attention to before. Dark jeans stretched over thick thighs that made your mouth water.

Swallowing a nervous gulp you asked, “Can we talk?”

Bucky turned towards his friends, giving a silent look they must have understood. Grabbing their drinks they left leaving you and Bucky alone at the pool table.

“Bucky, I–”

“Hang on,” he said, walking around the pool table to grab the sunken balls from the pockets.

You waited a little impatiently for him as he racked up the balls, wanting to get your apology over with.

“Okay doll, you want to talk and I want to play so we’re doing both.” He smiled, grabbing a pool stick off the wall and handing it to you. “So what’s on the line?”

Confused, you asked what he meant as you chalked up the end of the stick.

“Well, we have to play for something, doll.”

All you wanted to do was talk to him but if he wants you to play this game literally, then you would.

“Fine. If I win, you have to stop calling me doll.” You smirked, watching his face sour with dismay.

“Really doll?” Those big blue eyes became even bigger as he pouted feigning sadness.

“I said stop,” you warned.

He dropped the pout, pulling his lips back into a sly grin. “You didn’t win anything yet, doll,” he said, winking at your unamused face.

As Bucky chalked up the end of his pool stick he mulled over ideas in his head. “Now if I win I promise to leave you alone...”

Your brows knit together with confusion. Why would he leave you alone? It should have felt like a relief and yet for some reason it upset you.

“... but first you have to give me a kiss.”

All of your worries flew away with his finished sentence. “Excuse me? No. Don’t be creepy Barnes.”

“Okay, okay, relax doll.” He held his hands up defensively. “I didn’t say it had to be on my lips alright. A peck on the cheek is fine. Deal?”

For some reason you agreed, probably because you really wanted to apologize to him. Despite Bucky’s stipulation you felt really bad for how you’ve been treating him.

Walking past Bucky you took off your scarf and jacket, throwing them on top of his familiar leather jacket. You set yourself up to break, leaning over the table to adjust the position of the cue ball and Bucky couldn’t help but stare at your backside.

“Need me to teach you, doll?”

He pictured himself leaning against your body, his hands gently sweeping over yours guiding the pool stick in the proper position. The thought got him a little too excited and thankfully you couldn’t see the way he adjusted his stance, shaking off his desire.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” you asked rhetorically, hitting the cue fiercely and sending two balls in.

Bucky’s mouth was agape in surprise.

“You don’t know everything about me either,” you smirked playfully as you set yourself up to hit the solid balls you claimed.

Leaning against the wall, Bucky tried his best to hide his proud smile as you nailed the next shot. This game might be over way before he expected and quickly he thought about asking for best 2 out of 3 to keep you there longer. He didn’t even care about the kiss, he honestly wanted to keep hanging out. Thankfully you missed the next shot and Bucky took his time figuring out the best angle to try for with the cue’s current placement.

It was now or never you decided, wishing you hadn’t walked past the bar because liquid courage would really come in handy.

Clearing your throat you finally spoke up. “I’m sorry about your grandfather.” Bucky picked his head up from the table, his face dropping to a solemn expression. “It seemed like he lived a great life.”

A simple chuckle and Bucky smiled again. “You stalkin’ me doll?” His tone was light and then he dropped it again with a more serious thank you.

Bucky took a shot and missed but he didn’t care about the game. “I should apologize too. You’re not a bitch or a stick in the mud.”

Your lips pulled into a lopsided smile. “Thanks. Well I might be a stick in the mud,” you admitted.

Walking closer to you, Bucky leaned against the pool table. “No,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “Maybe more like a twig.”

He was happy to see you burst into laughter at his joke. This was the side of you Bucky had been waiting to see. He knew it was there, buried under the layers you built up in your quest to be a perfect student.

You continued to play, talking through the game as you got to know each other for real for the first time.

“I was so jealous of you in Drama. You were so carefree. I guess I twisted that in my head to think you didn’t give a shit about anything. I’m sorry.”

Bucky aimed to sink the next ball. “I do give a shit,” he said, striking the cue. “I study, but I have fun too.” He grimaced as the ball barely made it towards the pocket.

“I could probably take notes on that,” you replied.

“You would take notes. Where’s your laptop and your precious pens?” he teased.

“At home,” you chuckled. A wide smile spread across your face as you set up to take a shot.

“You look cute when you’re all smiley like that.”

The warmth of your cheeks intensified at his comment. Feeling your whole body begin to race you completely messed up the shot.

“You did that on purpose! You’re distracting me!” you grinned.

Bucky smirked, dropping his voice to a much lower octave, “Maybe I really want that kiss.”

You swallowed a lump that formed in your throat, urging him to continue playing. Things were close but a bad miss on Bucky’s part allowed you to hit the final solid ball, calling the 8 ball and sinking it.

“I’m gonna miss calling you doll,” he said, dropping his head down as his lips pulled into a frown.

“Considering I won I think I’ll let you continue calling me doll.”

His head picked up at your words, seeing the smile you wore that truly did outshine the sun.

“Oh, look at Y/N. She’s out having fun and breaking rules!” he joked.

Shaking your head, you chuckled, “Shut up Bucky.”

“Hey, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said my na–”

You caught him off guard by pressing your lips to his but as soon as Bucky realized what happened you felt him smile against your lips, parting his own to kiss you back. His arms wrapped around your body as he pulled you closer, deepening the victory of his loss.

The crowd seemed to disappear as you lost yourself in the kiss, thankful that Bucky was holding you because you felt like a feather blowing in the wind. When you parted for air, you did so slowly, not wanting to separate your lips from his.

It may be true that you’re a bit of a know it all but now as you proudly fail at holding back a wide grin you realize there’s so much more to learn about your new favorite subject, Bucky Barnes.

✨ If you like my work please consider supporting me on patreon ✨

#d&s’milestonecelebration #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au

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letsmellowjello · 4 years

Text

The Notebook

Pairings: Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Warnings: just fluff and a tiny bit of language

Summary: Anakin doesn’t know that you draw him, but then he finds your notebook.

Notes: I absolutely hate how I wrote their little battle, it just seems so slow and not exciting. Just do me a favor and try and use your imagination a bit, okay? Just an fyi that nobody asked for, I honestly think I’m the funniest person ever and I think that the title that I chose is kinda funny (it really isn’t but still). Feedback is appreciated! The gif isn’t mine

Masterlist ~ Prompts/Requests

Some would call it stalkerish, others would call it infatuation, but you called it pure boredom and a good reference. Ever since you met Anakin Skywalker, you had been drawing him. Every spare moment was spent sketching away in your little notebook the lines of his face and the swoops of his hair. When you first started doing it you saw it as purely a way to kill time and hone your own art skills, but over time it became something of a habit and maybe, just maybe you were falling for him a little bit. Whenever you had a moment, you were always itching to take out your little notebook and pencil.

Of course Anakin never knew anything about it, you didn’t intend for him to. All he knew was that you liked to draw at times and that you had a notebook. You had to admit, it was a little creepy, but what else could you do when the pictures drew themselves? Anakin was absolutely gorgeous and a wonderful model even if he didn’t know it. You would never tell him any of these things, it would only boost his ego.

“That was absolutely horrible,” You groaned as you and Anakin left the Jedi Council Chamber. You had both just debriefed the council of what had happened during you mission which was a complete and utter mess to say the least. Nobody had died thank goodness, but so many things went wrong and it had just taken so much longer than necessary.

“I can second that,” Anakin agreed. “I have to go see Obi-Wan real quick, but do you want to go grab something to eat later?”

“Sure, I’ll meet you in the banquet hall. See you later.” You turned and walked down the hall in the opposite direction of Anakin. You always loved your little post-mission dates. They weren’t actual dates of course, but it had become something of a ritual since you were padawans to go get something to eat and just talk and wind down after a mission.

You walked into the banquet hall and chose a seat next to one of the towering windows that overlooked the city of Coruscant. There were very few people in the hall as it was an odd time of the afternoon to be getting food, but you were both off for the rest of the day so you didn’t need to worry about missing a training session or meeting.

As you sat down you sighed tiredly, it felt like you hadn’t gotten the chance to relax in forever, which wasn’t too far from the truth. During the mission, the only time that you had been able to get any amount of relaxation or rest was in between jumps and even then there wasn’t nearly enough time to properly sleep or do a little sketching. All throughout the mission and the debriefing with the council, you had been itching to take out your notebook and start drawing. So now, when you were finally able to sit back, you took out your notebook and began to transfer your creativity to the old and crinkled paper.

As time went on, Anakin’s face began to appear soon followed by his hair, neck, shoulders, and body. You had a really good memory when it came to remembering what things or people looked like so you could draw them later. The boy in your drawing was in a powerful stance with his lightsaber raised above his head to protect against his opposition. It had been when you were on Jedha for just a little bit of reconnaissance. It was supposed to be really easy and just a quick in and out. But Anakin being Anakin and you being you, of course you had gotten into trouble and had drawn some unwanted attention which then caused you to be fending off blasters while trying to escape.

The pages of your notebook were filled with similar sketches; some of him smiling, being angry, sad, thoughtful, you had it all. Anakin was just a very expressive person which made for some very interesting drawings.

Your pencil scratched lightly at the paper to shade in the shadows of his face when you felt a presence approach from behind you.

“Boo!” Whoever it was put their hands on your shoulders to scare you. Even though you knew that someone was there, you still squeaked in surprise. You quickly closed your notebook and turned to see Anakin, but not before he got a glance at your drawing. “Hey, what were you drawing?”

“Anakin! Don’t scare me like that! How did things with Obi-Wan go?” You completely ignored his question and tried to distract him away from your notebook.

“Hey hey hey, don’t change the subject. What were you drawing? Can I see? You’re always doing stuff in that notebook and I never know what it is.” He reached for it but you pulled it away.

“No! It’s none of your business!” You protested, trying to keep it away from him.

“Let me see!” He leaned across the table and tried to pull your arm closer so he could grab the book but you resisted. It soon became an all out battle to try and get the notebook with Anakin basically on top of the table and you leaning very far back in your chair. The few people who were in the hall looked over at the two of you in disdain at the ruckus that you were making. He climbed over the table but you quickly got up and tried to hide the book in your robes but then he was there preventing you from doing such a thing. The two of you fought ruthlessly against each other to obtain the book until you managed to break free of his grip and dart away but he was quick to follow.

“Y/n get back here! I just want to see your drawing!” You were now jumping over tables and chairs to try and get away. Oh how Obi-Wan would not be pleased. The entire time he was on your heals but then he slowed and extended his arm using the Force to pull you back to him.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” You protested as you tried to resist him, your feet slipping on the floor helplessly. Once he had pulled you to him, he wrapped his arms around you to try and stop you from struggling.

“Y/n just- argh stop moving! Just let me see!” Even though you were a powerful Jedi, his physical strength was too much. Realizing that there was nothing that you could do and that he would find out your secret sooner or later, you gave up and stopped squirming in his grasp. You let him take the book with a reluctant and frustrated huff.

“Anakin,” you said before he opened the book, “just know that it’s not as creepy as it looks. I promise, okay?”

“Um... okay?” He gave you a funny look and then directed his attention back to the notebook. He opened it up carefully and was absolutely dumbstruck at what he found. Almost all of the pages were filled with sketches of himself in all sorts of poses and expressions. Your face burned with embarrassment and all of the sudden the floor and your shuffling feet became the most interesting thing around. “Y/n... these are amazing...” he breathed.

You mumbled a “thank you” under your breath.

“So this is what you’ve been doing with every spare second?” He turned the notebook towards you. “You’ve been drawing me? You liiiiiiike meeee” his face scrunched up as he teased you.

��Oh shut up! No I don’t!”

“Yes you do! You like me! You like me! Why else would you only ever be drawing me then, huh?”

“Ugh fine! So what if I do? It’s just a couple of drawings! And besides, who would like a colossal ass such as yourself?”

“You would! Obviously.” He grinned at you as you turned away from him crossing your arms and huffed. “Oh come on y/n!” He took you by the shoulders and turned you to face him. “It’s not that big of a deal, and I don’t really blame you, I am quite amazing.” He wore a smug look on his face and subtly flexed his muscles. You rolled your eyes and began to move away but he pulled you right back, not letting go of your shoulders this time. You were now painfully aware of how close you were and the mere centimeters separating the two of you.

“I um, I have to-” You spluttered in any attempt to leave the situation. You didn’t want to meet his eyes because you knew that if you did you’d just fall for him even harder and this time you might not be able to control yourself.

“Y/n...” Anakin’s voice was soft now and had lost it’s smugness and pride. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be ashamed. Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin up a little bit and you reluctantly met his gaze. What you saw in his face startled you. You didn’t see that arrogant and prideful boy you knew, there wasn’t even a hint of teasing humor or cockiness in his face. Instead there was something else. Understanding, maybe? Shyness? Care? Who was this boy and what did he do with Anakin?

“It’s not okay though, I’ve broken one of the most prominent rules of the Jedi Code! I’ve fallen for someone, and another Jedi at that!”

“That makes two of us.” His voice came out as almost a whisper. You barely heard it, but when you did it took you a moment to register the gravity of his statement.

“Wait wha-?” And then the centimeters between you disappeared and his lips were on yours. Your eyes widened by then you relaxed and fell into the kiss. It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. You had never experienced anything like it and weren’t sure you’d ever experience anything like it again. His hands came up to cup your cheeks and yours went to hold the back of his head, pulling him closer. But unfortunately, being human, you needed to breath. You separated reluctantly, but this time the space in between you buzzed with energy.

“So um...”

“Shhh no words. Just enjoy the moment.”

“But-” Anakin placed a finger on your lips to quiet you.

“Shhh...” You obliged and gently rested your forehead on his.

After a moment of comfortable silence, he broke the quiet. “Do you think anyone saw us? What do you think will happen if the Jedi Council finds out?”

“Oh fuck the Jedi Council, what are they going to do? Get rid of their two best and youngest Jedis?” Your own words surprised you. That position was usually reserved for Anakin.

“I’d like to do that again y/n.”

“Me too...” The space began to close again and your eyes fluttered shut until the door to the banquet hall opened. You and Anakin careened away from each other to the other sides of the room.

“Ok, please tell me that wasn’t what I think it was.” Obi-Wan stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and a disapproving but humorous look on his face.

“No nope, not at all Obi-Wan.” Anakin assured him and you nodded in agreement.

“Good, because you both know the repercussions that could follow. Anakin come with me, I need to have a little chat with my young padawan.”

“But I-” He protested.

“No buts! Let's go!” He took a fistful of Anakin’s robes and began dragging him out of the hall. On his way out Anakin gave you a helpless look that you could only laugh at.

Once they left you sank down into the nearest seat hugging the notebook to your chest, still riding out the high that you had gotten from the kiss. You felt like a lovesick little schoolgirl whose crush had just winked at her from across the playground. In all your years of life you never thought you would fall so fast and so hard for anyone, let alone Anakin Skywalker. Yet here you were. And as luck, or the Force, would have it, he felt the same about you. Obviously you couldn’t be together in the conventional way, but just knowing was enough for you.

You did not know what the future held, but what you did know was that Anakin was in it.

~~~

Taglist: @umpoedameron

#star wars #star wars imagine #imagine #Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin-skywalker-imagines #mellow jello imagine #fanfic #star wars fanfiction

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thatringboy · 3 years

Text

The Day Before Halloween - Supernerds

I had some people ask me how Matrix became a superhero so I decided to write out part of his origin story! Also, last name reveals for Oliver and Matty

Word Count: 2,306

Warnings: Blood mention

Matthew Oeste was a superhero, but not a usual one.

He had no flashy powers, striking physique, booming voice, nothing that would make him stand out. He learned from a young age that firewalls on the internet didn’t apply to him. Passwords? Nonexistent. He had the entire digital world at his fingertips and he could control it all with a thought.

Matthew didn’t ever plan on becoming a hero. He kept his head down, helped his parents around their bodega, got good grades and lived a normal life. He refused to cut his hair when it started growing down his back, went to prom with a pretty girl, got a scholarship for a two year degree at a local university and floated through life without many problems. With his powers, Matthew could easily rise to the top of the advertising and marketing world, being able to monitor trends all across the globe at once.

His parents always told him that the hardest part was not changing things. It was a cheesy line that they had stolen from some superhero movie, but Matthew thought about it often. Every time he checked his phone, he could feel his mind wanting to slip within the cyberspace and roam around, so he learned not to. Even if the digital world was usually much more interesting than his real life.

For the most part, Matthew’s life was also superhero-free. Sure, there was the resident team of superhumans that lived in the city, but the young man was never swept up in a battle that flattened city blocks, he didn’t participate in online forums about which hero was the coolest, he didn’t pay attention to which villains got arrested and which escaped prison. For the most part.

There was one incident in his childhood that always popped up in the back of his mind from time to time. He was either nine or ten, it was October 30th, he had just walked home from fourth grade and was thinking about how Mama and Papai had saved up enough money to get him a brand new superhero costume for Halloween. This year, little Matthew was going as “Cyclone”, the resident leader of the city’s heroes who enforced justice with his magnificent wind powers.

He had skipped into the Oeste’s corner shop with such a wide smile, happy to show his parents how well he had drawn himself in his costume. It was a very excellent stick figure, his teacher had said, the best she had ever seen. He was a little worried about telling his parents about how he broke two hair ties during recess, but he had also found two whole dollars on the street that could go towards paying for more. He was a big boy, a freaking fourth grader already! He could pay for his own dang hair ties!

Matthew had waved to the young cashier who’s name he could never remember and immediately went to the backroom so that he could pull out his drawing and get it ready for presentation.

While he worked on smoothing out the paper on the small plastic table he often did his homework on, Matthew heard a noise from the alleyway outside, the only thing separating him from where the dumpsters sat and the bodega’s backroom being a door that was only locked at night. Matthew got up and balled his small fists before stepping over to the door. He had superpowers, he could fight off whatever raccoon or rat was digging around in the trash no problem!

Would you want to fight a fourth grader who could change the tv channel with a thought? I didn’t think so.

Matthew slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open before jumping out of the doorway with the scariest face he could put on.

Sitting on the street, curled up next to the dumpster was a boy only a couple years older than Matthew, unkempt hair falling in his face and arms wrapped around his frail form. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in over a week.

The younger boy dropped the hero act and ran to his side with a worried face. “Hey, are you okay?”

The older boy flinched and tried to scoot away from the child approaching him, but just pressed further into the dumpster. His clothing smelled of sewage and he had a blood stain on his cheek. Whether it was his blood or someone else's, Matthew couldn’t tell.

The younger boy thought for a second before digging the two dollars out of his pocket. “Wait here!”

He ran back inside and slapped the crumpled bills onto the bodega counter. “How much food can I buy with this?”

The teenager working the cash register gave the little boy a smile before pointing to a bag of chips on one of the shelves. “Two bucks can get ya one of those.”

It would have to do. Matthew grabbed the back and ran back to the backroom before locating a towel and wetting it in the backroom’s sink. He jogged back outside to see the older boy hadn’t moved at all, his breathing was slow and labored.

“I got you some chips! I would have gotten you some clothes, but mine are all too small for you. Sorry.” He offered the bag to the starving boy.

The older boy snatched it from Matthew’s fingers and tore it open before shoveling the bbq potato chips into his mouth with such ferocity that Matthew was impressed that he didn’t hurt himself.

As he ate, Matthew got a chance to rub the damp towel across his cheek like his own Mama would when he scraped his skin if he fell. The blood came away and luckily, it wasn’t from a wound. Well, lucky for the boy, not for whoever the blood belonged to.

“I’m Matthew, what’s your name? Do you go to school around here? Do you need my Papai to call your’s?”

The older boy didn’t answer him, opting to dig his fingertips into the chip bag to scoop up the crumbs. As Matthew worked, he ended up shifting the old jacket the older boy wore and noticed that he wore a faded orange uniform underneath it. Printed on his breast pocket was a single word and some numbers that Matthew didn’t understand.

[CHAVEZ #10824006]

“Is your name ‘Chavez’? That’s a funny name, my substitute teacher was named Mr. Chavez today, but you two don’t look alike.” Matthew continued to wipe the blood away. He had watched enough Fast N Furious movies with his parents to know that the uniform belonged to a prison, but why would a little boy be wearing one?

Chavez crumbled up the bag and tossed it aside before slowly getting to his feet, his worn sneakers digging into the pavement. He was over a head taller than Matthew when he stood up straight.

“Thank you.” He whispered to Matthew.

The younger boy opened his mouth to say something, but he heard his mother call his name from inside the bodega.

He spun around and cupped his mouth with his hands. “I’m out here, Mama!”

She appeared in the doorway and looked around the alleyway behind her son. “Meu filho, were you feeding the street animals again?”

“Huh?” Matthew turned around and the older boy was gone, the balled up chip bag discarded on the ground.

Matthew still went trick-or-treating in his new costume after that, but he threw his drawing away and never wore the costume again. For the next week, the little boy had nightmares about the boy named Chavez in the dirty prison uniform, but he could never figure out why. After that day, Matthew stopped paying attention to superhero news, stopped drawing himself as a hero and stopped making up scenarios in his head where he used his powers to throw bad guys in jail. If locking up kids like Chavez was part of the heroing job, then he wanted no part of it.

It wasn’t until he was all grown up, almost twelve full years later, that Matty looked into what happened to Chavez after that fateful meeting behind his bodega.

He was lounging in bed with Oliver after working out together and neither had the energy to do anything else for the day after they had showered. Oliver was reading a book with half of his body laying against Matty’s, his head leaning against the younger’s shoulder like he was a human pillow.

Matty had his phone in one hand and the other was tangled in Oliver’s hair, slowly petting the supervillain like he was a large dog lying on him.

“Hey, Ollie?”

“Hmm?” Oliver shifted so he could turn his head and look at his lover, setting his book down on his chest.

“What’s your last name?”

The supervillain pressed a small kiss to Matty’s jaw. “Why d’ya need to know?”

“You wanted help in finding what tribe you’re from, right? If I plug your family name into a database then the search could be easier.”

“Aight,” Oliver went back to his original position and pulled his book back up. “Chavez, Oliver Chavez.”

A common name, but it was a start. Matty gripped his phone and shut his eyes, his head falling back onto the pillow as he let his mind sink into the small device. He couldn’t actually see anything in this mode, but Matty could visualize a keyboard and a search engine appearing before him.

He didn’t have to move a muscle before his lover’s name appeared in the search bar and his mind dove deeper into the internet. But before he could move to plant the name into an ancestry tracking site, a news article from twelve years ago caught his interest. Matty willed the article forward to read the title.

NATIVE AMERICAN SUPERHUMAN FOUND GUILTY OF CITY-WIDE BLACKOUT & DEATH OF MAYOR

Oliver Chavez, an undocumented superhuman from the Docks District, has been charged with the murder of the late Mayor Murbenks on Tuesday, October 21st.

The image the article used of Oliver Chavez was hidden under several paragraphs describing how a superhuman with electric powers caused a city-wide power outage during when the old mayor was getting his heart operated on. The picture of the superhuman in question showed that Oliver Chavez was a young boy wearing a scared expression on his eerily familiar face.

The memory of the day behind the bodega flooded into Matty’s mind and jerked him back into his body, the feeling of his lover reading on his chest grounding him when his heart beat faster with the rage boiling inside of him.

Not once did the article mention the boy’s age. All the article spoke about was how the boy used his powers to overload the circuits in the power plants and caused power to go out in the entire city. Oliver Chavez was thirteen and all the article spoke about was that he was a Native American who grew up in the foster system and was from a poorer district of the city.

Matty opened his eyes and leaned over to press a kiss to Oliver’s hair, causing the older man to hum softly as he turned the page of his book. “That was quick, what'd ya find?”

“Found out that I was hungry, that’s what. Mind moving, big guy?”

Oliver grunted and groaned as he sat up, his muscles sore from his work out, but happy to let his partner slide out of bed and make his way to the door.

Matty took his time walking to the lair cafeteria and picking up two backs of bbq potato chips before heading back to Oliver’s bedroom and sliding back into his original spot, smiling when Oliver sat back up to let him back in.

The ex-hero dropped one of the bags onto Oliver’s chest and pulled open his own. “There ya go, Chavez.”

Oliver frowned and moved the bag out of his line of sight. “I didn’t ask for anything.”

Matty sighed and popped a chip into his mouth. “Funny, you didn’t ask for anything the first time I gave you some chips either. You just said ‘thank you’ like a polite little boy.”

The supervillain closed his book and set it aside, sitting up and twisting to make a confused face at his lover. “When did this happen? Am I forgetting something?”

The ex-hero snorted and gave his boyfriend a loving smile. “You don’t remember? Day before Halloween, a little over a decade ago, Chavez No.10824006? A little Portuguese kid giving you some food and cleaning you off?”

Matty watched as Oliver clearly raked his mind for the memory and how his eyes slowly widened in realization. “Holy shit, the little fucker in the stupid jacket was you?!”

“Hey, my Mama got me that jacket!” Matty pouted.

He let out a noise as Oliver’s large arms wrapped around him and he felt the weight of his lover fall on his chest. “Damn, I guess you’ve really been saving me since day fucking one.”

Matty hummed and kissed the top of Oliver’s head again with another smile. “I guess I am. But truth be told, your last name is kinda boring.”

Oliver lifted his head up with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, I think you’d do much better with mine instead.”

It took the supervillain a hot minute to run what Matty had said through his brain. When he did, Matty relished in the way his face burned and how he pushed his face into the ex-hero’s chest with a whine. “Matty-y-y-y, you fucking ughmmnm, that was smooth as hell.”

“I know.” He kissed Oliver’s hair again and attempted to pull his arm out of the embrace so he could grab his chips and pop them into his mouth with a satisfying crunch.

#maybe i'll write out how matty met his ex and became a superhero another day #also i'm loving how quickly oliver and matty became domesticated gays who coexist cutely #Oliver's love language is physical touch and Matty's is words of affirmation btw #supernerds #ocs #my ocs #writing #my writing #original writing #original characters

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fairmoephelia · 4 years

Text

Can I Try Again, Try Again?

here’s my fic for the first day of beauyasha week!! the prompt was first kiss and i decided to write a 5 + 1 fic of the 5 times beau and yasha almost kissed and the 1 time they actually did

fic below the cut!

The Mighty Nein had been together as a semi-cohesive group for a few weeks by the time Yasha returned from whatever mystery calling had caused her disappearance. Mollymauk had assured them it was nothing to worry about but otherwise didn’t provide much information, dodging the few questions about where she might have gone and what she might be doing.

Despite her return, Yasha had mostly kept to herself, wandering off to pick flowers, or was glued to Molly’s side, hiding herself in the shadow of the tiefling’s dramatic antics until it came time for battle. This made it frustratingly difficult for Beau to get a good conversation out of her.

She wanted to get to know her, Yasha was interesting and mysterious, not to mention extremely hot and Beau was never one to shy away from her curiosity into any of those things.

The group had decided to stop for the day, camping along the side of the road. They were close to the next town they planned to stop at, but not close enough to justify continuing their journey through the night. Jester and Fjord were sat on the back of the cart, Molly on the ground in front of them shuffling his cards and laughing as Jester poked at some of the scars Fjord had gained from their recent battles although his injuries, as well as Beau’s, were becoming less frequent now that Yasha had returned. She soaked up most of the damage that had previously been aimed at the two of them. Nott and Caleb had receded into themselves, hiding away with only each other and Frumpkin for company, it didn’t seem to bother them so Beau figured it was no big deal though she still didn’t exactly trust them.

Their current behavior was common and neither of them had spoken more than a few sentences to Beau, though she supposed her own abrasive nature was also partially to blame for that. Whatever.

From her position a few feet away from the others, leaning against the side of the cart, Beau switched her attention to Yasha. She was sitting with her back against a large tree, running her fingers along the pages of her book she kept to press flowers. Beau was surprised she hadn’t gotten a paper cut. She probably had callouses. Great, that just made her even more attractive. Beau fought to hype herself up mentally. She could do this, she fought vicious gnolls two days ago, she could start a conversation with this gorgeous woman. “Hey, Yasha,” she started, approaching the other woman.

Then, Yasha peered up at her with those two-toned eyes and whatever confidence Beau had managed to scrounge up immediately dissipated. “Uh,” she said eloquently, “do you wanna spar or something? It’s been awhile since I’ve had some good practice and you’re really strong. I mean, you said so yourself,”

“Alright,” Yasha said simply, as if Beau hadn’t just tripped all over herself trying to ask her to do something as innocuous as spar.

“Cool, cool,” said Beau, trying to give off an aura of nonchalance, “let’s find somewhere more open.”

It didn’t take them long to find a clearing in the woods, only a minute or two away from the cart and the camp. Beau began to stretch, watching Yasha do the same but trying not to let her eyes linger too long. Even though, damn.

“We’re doing this, um, hand to hand, I assume?” Said Yasha.

“If that’s alright with you?” Beau hadn’t brought her staff and Yasha’s greatsword was back at the camp as well.

“Sure,” Yasha rolled her shoulders, “do you have any tips for me? This does seem to be your comfort zone.”

Beau settled across from Yasha, weight having shifted to the balls of her feet, and gave a playful smirk. “I don’t know,” she said mischievously, “I think I need to see what you’ve got before I can give any advice.” She cocked an eyebrow, making it clear the match had begun but waiting for Yasha to make the first move. Not in whatever way that could be taken as courteous during a sparring match, but in the way she normally did with heavy hitters. Evasion was one of her best moves and whatever attacks she landed on Yasha undoubtedly wouldn’t do as much damage as they did to most enemies they faced.

Yasha took the hint, immediately rushing forward, forcing Beau backwards. Movement limited, Beau ducked under her arms, Yasha’s first strike glancing off her shoulder instead of hitting her in the chest like the other woman had intended. Beau rotated, turning at the same time as Yasha, who struck out again, this time meeting her mark on Beau’s lower chest. It was enough for her to give a slight grunt, puffing the air that had been forced out of her chest.

She threw several punches in quick succession, striking Yasha’s torso. Yasha waited for a break in her onslaught, not terribly affected just as Beau predicted, throwing another punch that Beau’s forearm came up just in time to block. And okay, that one would definitely bruise, Yasha hit hard, even when she wasn’t actually trying to hurt Beau.

Backing up ever so slightly, Beau aimed another punch but this time Yasha was able to grab her fist, stopping the hit in its tracks. Beau twisted, using the momentum to swing a kick into the other woman’s side, hearing her breath catch slightly.

Yasha switched her grip from Beau’s fist to the leg now resting just above her hip and pushed.

Beau hit the grass under her with a thud as she lost her balance, an aching pulse spreading through her back. She didn’t have time to focus on that though as Yasha was quickly on top of her.

Cool, cool, she totally wasn’t blushing.

She rolled to avoid another punch from Yasha, taking the next moment Yasha pulled her arm back to wriggle out from underneath her, somehow managing to desperately reverse their positions. Now straddling Yasha, she sat breathlessly as she peered down at the other woman. Her hair was splayed out around her like a halo, the pale ends reflecting the day’s last bits of light.

Yasha didn’t move, apparently deciding it was a good time to end the match despite having more than enough strength to throw Beau off if she wanted. Beau couldn’t decide if she was disappointed by that or not. Yasha reached up a hand from her position underneath Beau, placing it on Beau’s waist. Beau felt a warm breath of magic spread from where Yasha touched her to the rest of her body, the ache fading from bruises before they could even form.

“Thanks,” she said. She bit her lip between her teeth and half-cocked her head, asking permission. Yasha looked away from her with a laugh before looking back, smiling softly. Beau didn’t wait any longer, leaning down to press her lips to Yasha’s—

“Beau! Yasha!” Jester’s voice rang from the trees just before the clearing.

Beau scrambled, removing herself from the other woman’s lap and getting to her feet. She held out a hand to help Yasha up, which she took despite definitely not needing it. Beau knew she’d barely caused Yasha any discomfort.

They shared one last look that Yasha broke with flushed cheeks before following Jester’s rambling voice back to the camp.

II.

A slight wind moved through the street where Yasha and Beau found themselves standing guard. Nott was attempting to break into the home of a city official a few blocks away. Caleb and Jester were with her, armed with spells if she needed assistance, while Molly and Fjord had taken the other street leading up to the estate.

Before the group had separated, Molly had nudged Yasha and warned against her and Beau getting too “distracted” while trying to keep watch, his smirk making his meaning quite clear. In response, Beau had rather elegantly flipped him off and Yasha flushed, muttering placations towards the two.

The air nipped slightly at Yasha’s exposed arms but she could only assume it was worse for Beau, who didn’t even have the protection of the fur that Yasha wore. She considered offering her shawl to the other woman but was hesitant to break the silence surrounding them and protecting them from any awkward conversation. Neither of them were Jester, who slipped easily into any social situation. Their conversations often ended in one of them excusing themselves or being interrupted in an awkward position by one of their party members. That, Yasha wouldn’t let herself think about any longer.

None of this was to say Yasha didn’t enjoy spending time with Beau. In fact, she quite liked it but starting a conversation had its challenges.

As if somehow reading Yasha’s mind, Beau suddenly spoke up, “Sorry if what Molly said made you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, um, it’s fine, Molly doesn’t make me uncomfortable. He likes to think he’s funny. He didn’t make you uncomfortable, did he?” She knew Molly and Beau had named themselves unofficial rivals since the group formed, but Yasha doubted he actually wanted to upset the monk and would keep away from certain topics of teasing if Yasha asked him to.

“Nah, I don’t care what he says. It’s weird you two are so close,”

“How so?”

“You’re just so you, and he’s just so…Molly.” Yasha furrowed her brow and Beau continued, “Not that I’m insulting your friendship, you guys are clearly close— shit.”

Yasha felt a little bad laughing at Beau’s frustration but it did seem to ease it slightly, “ I understand, we are quite…different,”

Beau nodded and they fell back into another silence, more comfortable this time, though Yasha realized they had carefully skirted the subject of what Molly had actually said and why it would make them uncomfortable. That was fine with her, thoughts and memories of Zuala already haunted her during the time she spent with Beau and that was hardly something she needed to discuss with Beau herself. She wondered why Beau thought Molly’s comment would make her uncomfortable? Perhaps she simply thought Yasha wasn’t interested in her. She tried to remind herself that was for the best, though the ache in her chest seemed to argue otherwise. She pushed those down forcibly, opting instead to scan the street of houses, only slightly less grandiose than the one Nott was currently breaking into. Her ears perked up as she heard the falling of heavy boots approaching them, a crownsguard.

She grabbed Beau’s wrist and pulled her with her as she ducked into the nearest alleyway. The momentum of the decision had placed Beau practically on top of her but she didn’t dare move as the guard’s steps grew closer.

Beau looked startled but seemed to have also grasped the situation as she didn’t move or question Yasha. They both held their breaths as the guard passed by, waiting a few extra moments to be safe before calming. “Sorry about that,” Yasha said.

“We’re doing a lot of apologizing tonight, huh?” She was still close, close enough that Yasha could feel her breath as she spoke, hot in comparison to the night air. “I don’t mind it,”

“Really,” said Yasha, more statement than question. She placed her hand along Beau’s jawline, drawing her in with surprisingly delicate fingers for someone so often focused on brute strength.

Beau went easily with the suggestion, letting Yasha pull her closer before suddenly jolting away from her. “Shit, they need our help.”

It took Yasha a moment to even remember the mission at hand, Nott and the others inside the building. Jester must have sent a message requesting backup.

“We can— later?” Asked Beau.

Yasha didn’t answer, already having taken off in the direction of the others. So much for letting Beau believe she wasn’t interested in her.

III.

It was late, or rather early, during Beau’s watch. She almost always chose the last watch when she got the chance. Despite her complaining when woken up by the others, she was an early-riser. It was a habit drilled into her by the strict regimen of the Cobalt Soul, though that was also where her offense to being suddenly woken up had come from.

The sun was beginning to rise over the edge of the horizon, painting the sky a watercolor mix of blue and purple. It reminded her of one of Yasha’s eyes, the ethereal violet that made her distinctly unique-looking. Ever since they met, Beau had found herself fixated on Yasha’s eyes, seeking them out almost as often as her muscles.

She peaked over at Yasha, the other woman having taken watch with her for the night. She was watching the sunrise as well, pale, calloused hands carding through the grass at her side.

“It’s like your eyes,” Beau said, biting her tongue in surprise at the comment slipping through her traitorous lips.

Beautiful green-blue and violet were on full display as Yasha’s eyes widened, “The sunrise?” She asked.

“Yeah, it’s like—“ Beau paused, feeling embarrassment heat up in her cheeks. “The purple, it reminds me of the sunrise. It’s nice, I like your eyes.”

Yasha’s gaze dropped to the ground, as though she suddenly found the grass her fingers were knotted in very interesting. “I remember,” she said, “you called them, two bio— what was it?”

“Two diverse biomes, don’t remind me.” She groaned, “It was not my proudest moment,”

Yasha laughed, it was a quiet, low sound that Beau had to strain a little to hear. Yasha didn’t laugh often, but when she did Beau always found herself fascinated by such a delicate sound coming from someone as fierce as her. That was the duality of her, like her eyes, the violence she produced on the battlefield gave way to moments of reprieve, flower picking and quiet laughter. “I thought it was sweet,” she said sincerely.

“Sweet?” Now it was Beau’s turn to laugh. Sweet was not something ever used to describe her outside of the context of scathing sarcasm.

Yasha’s eyes met her own and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, “Yeah,” she said, “sweet.”

Beau’s gaze trailed from Yasha’s eyes down to her lips, the navy tattoo standing out against her pale skin. She thought about how easy it would be to surge forward and kiss Yasha, hold her jaw in her hands and move her lips against her own.

“We should wake up the others,” Yasha said, in the span of their conversation the sun had reached about midway into the sky, the group had a long day of travel ahead of them. She wondered if Yasha had noticed her staring.

“Yeah, probably,”

IV.

Yasha prayed to the Stormlord, to Ioun, to any god she could offer herself up to that would put a stop to this. Her body ascended the stairs towards Beau, her heavy, controlled steps echoing along the stone. She could see Beau fighting the Laughing Hand, fist sinking into the now-softened flesh, the Hand giving a pained chuckle. Yasha had never heard it do anything else.

Not her, not her, please not her.

Her begging of her body to disobey Obann’s orders, absent since the attack on the Cobalt Soul that crushed her hope of rescue or forgiveness, renewed itself with the force of a fire that had never really gone out. She was ashamed to think that she had almost welcomed the empty embrace of resignation. Beau turned as she approached, her expression near-unreadable but Yasha could see the pain in her eyes, “Long time no see,”

Yasha’s arms ached as they raised the Skingorger and slashed across Beau’s torso before the monk had the time to react, a spray of blood hitting the ground beside her like raindrops as she fell. She was fully at Yasha’s mercy.

Someone help her.

The Skingorger raised once more before slamming down with full force, sinking into Beau’s chest with the wet slice of flesh. Yasha felt as if she had stabbed her own heart. She imagined the gore pouring out of her chest instead of Beauregard’s, she would have prefered that. The sword didn’t stop there, it pushed deeper, another layer of muscle giving under the attack.

Stop, stop, stop!

Images flashed unbidden behind Yasha’s eyes, past mixing with present in bloody reds and violent purples. Beau, gasping in agony under Yasha’s sword, blood gurgling in her throat. Zuala, body behind as she ran like a coward.

Her fault.

Her arms yanked the sword from Beau’s stomach, the monk’s mouth forming a silent scream, gagging on blood as it painted her front.

Yasha turned away from the painful scene, Beau-Zuala-Beau’s broken body behind her as her attention switched to Fjord. The Skingorger raised to attack at the same time Fjord’s hand raised, an inky tendril shooting out to wrap itself around Yasha’s waist. “Tell me you can hear me,” he said, a mix between desperate and coldly resigned.

She wished she could.

The tendril bit into her with crushing pressure, her own blood used to feed Fjord’s life force. She wondered if he could see the relief through her tear-filled eyes. The tendril retreated, but she could feel the darkness still running through her, cold as Fjord’s glare as it sucked through her veins. The fight continued for Yasha in a blur of blood and pain and guilt, until—

She didn’t even see Caduceus cast the spell, only felt the seal on her neck burning in holy light until it was almost unbearable. Finally, it shattered with relief she hadn’t thought possible. She fell to her knees and screamed as thunder roared, the Stormlord’s cry of fury mixing with her own primal scream. Lightning struck through the stained-glass windows, pieces of red, orange, and yellow shattering across the cathedral floor, the Mighty Nein flinching to avoid it. The sudden brightness of the strike burned the image of the room into her mind, Caduceus next to her, Beau on the ground feet away from her, still down but thankfully stable.

At Pumat’s urging, the group fled, Caleb and Caduceus barricading the door behind them with a mix of furniture and spellwork. Sheepishly, Yasha approached Beau and placed her hand against her stomach, fingers feeling cold as magical warmth left them to staunch the blood flow from the still considerable wound. They were close, probably too close considering what Yasha has just done. An irrational, impulsive part of Yasha’s mind that rarely saw the light of day except during battle wanted to close the distance between them and kiss Beau. She didn’t want to lose the chance again. Not the way she nearly had, but it wasn’t the right time or place. She had no way of knowing Beau liked her that way anymore, if she would even forgive her for what she’d done. Yasha couldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

“It’s good to have you back, actually back,” Beau’s hand moved momentarily from her stomach, twitching like she wanted to reach out but stopped herself.

Yasha pulled away from her, “I’m very sorry,” she said sincerely, her voice muffled with tears finally allowed to shed of their own volition. “I did not know what I was doing.”

“We know,” said Beau. Yasha was comforted by her steadiness, how sure she sounded.

“Please forgive me. I don’t know how I can make you trust me again, I don’t even trust myself.” That was the truth, how could she know she wouldn’t be forced to harm them again? How could she be there to protect them when the real danger was her?

Beau gave her a sad, but closed-off look and Jester wrapped her arms around her waist. Something between an ugly laugh and a sob bubbled at the back of her throat, but she held it down. She was finally back with her tribe, she could figure out the rest later.

The group was huddled in the living area of the Xhorhaus, Caduceus serving late-night tea to Jester and Nott (who didn’t accept the it in favor of her flask), curled together on one of the couches with Beau below them, laying back against Jester’s legs. She followed Nott’s lead, taking a sip from her own drink. Plenty of alcohol had been passed out to the rest of the group as well, only Jester and Caduceus abstaining as usual. Yasha’s fingers curled around the neck of her bottle. They were gathered at Jester’s insistence, the tiefling saying they were going to have a game night.

“So, Jessie? What kind of games are you thinking?” Asked Fjord, he was sitting on the floor, next to Yasha but not too close. She knew he still didn’t trust her, saw the suspicious looks he cast when he thought she wasn’t looking or even when he knew she was. She couldn’t blame him though, not after what she had nearly done to him.

“Well,” Jester began excitedly, putting her tea to the side to hug a throw pillow against her chest, “ I was thinking we could play truth or dare. But, I’m going to cast Zone of Truth on everyone so we can’t lie!”

Yasha took a swig of her drink, savoring the slight burn as it went down her throat to distract her from the suggestion. She didn’t like being influenced by magic, never had before and certainly didn’t now. She would never distrust Jester, but she couldn’t help the way the idea sat with her, like an uncomfortable pit in her stomach.

“Jester, are you sure that is necessary?” Asked Caleb, practical as always. Yasha wondered if his concerns were close to her own, as the only other member of the group who had been forced to attack their friends before the fight with Obann.

“It’s not necessary,” Jester pouted, mimicking Caleb’s accent on the third word, “but it makes it more fun!”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun. Come on,” said Beau, clearly a little tipsy already.

The group fell into agreement, those with complaints apparently deciding their trust of the group outweighed their hesitation. Jester went first, turning the dreaded question on Fjord, who chose truth and had to regal his first kiss for the group. It was, as it turned out, a girl from the orphanage he grew up in. The game continued from there, jumping from person to person until Nott decided it was Yasha’s turn. Like Fjord, Caleb, and Caduceus before her, she chose truth.

Nott hiccuped, “Who did you miss the most while you were gone?”

While she was gone, that seemed a merciful way to phrase it, especially from a drunken Nott. “Well, I—“ Yasha felt the tingle of magic up her spine, reminding her to move carefully around the Zone of Truth’s power. “I missed all of you quite a lot.”

“We know that, silly!” Said Jester. “We just wanna know about who you missed extra…” she drew out the last syllable of the word, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Yasha maintained firm eye contact with her lap, hoping the flush she gained when she drank hadn’t become any more pronounced. “Beau, I suppose.”

Jester awed, and Yasha saw Beau shift across from her. She dared to look up and met Beau’s wide eyes expression. “I, um, missed talking and sparring with you.” She said hurriedly, thinking immediately back to the first time they sparred together. From the way she gnawed at her lip, Beau was doing the same, Yasha didn’t know if that had been her intention or not.

Beau took a quick shot of her drink and the moment was broken, the game continued.

After Caleb being forced to message Essek with an excerpt from Tusk Love, Beau nearly hitting Nott with a throwing star, and Caduceus sharing stories of pranking his siblings, the game found its way back to Yasha. This time she was at Jester’s mercy.

“I dare you to kiss Beau!” She declared, the mischievous grin on her face letting Yasha know she had planned it, most likely from Yasha’s fist answer. Yasha was sure her face was entirely red now, even as she expertly avoided Beau’s gaze.

“Come on,” she heard Beau say, “I know we’re messing around but Yasha doesn’t have to kiss me if she doesn’t want to.” She sounded painfully casual but there was something sad about her tone, disappointed that Yasha didn’t want to kiss her. Gods, if only she knew how much she wanted to. She bit her lip to keep from imagining tangling her hands in Beau’s hair, feeling the warmth of her mouth against her own.

Mercifully, Caleb spoke up, suggesting they all head to bed as it was late. The lack of sunlight in Rosohna meant that the group often trusted Caleb for exact times. Yasha pushed herself to her feet, legs slightly numb from all the time spent sitting, and made her way towards the stairs. Only stopped by Jester hurrying after her, “I’m sorry, Yasha. I didn’t mean to make you embarrassed.” She said, “I thought it would be fun and you would feel included.”

Despite her near painful embarrassment, Yasha appreciated how wholeheartedly Jester had accepted her back into the group, not giving her any suspicious glances or tiptoeing around her some of the others had taken to. Not that Yasha could complain, their hesitancy was well deserved. “It’s alright, Jester. I guess your dare was just a little too…spot on?” She said.

Jester gasped slightly, immediately quieting herself but unable to hide her excitement. “Do you like Beau?” She asked, words coming out in a jumble just as Beau approached behind her, and if her gaze locked on Yasha was anything to go by, she had heard the question.

For a moment, she let the question stand. Was she wondering herself? Or did she already know the answer? Conscience seemed to catch up with her as she placed a hand on Jester’s shoulder. “Race you to our room,” she said, quickly dodging around the tiefling and running up the stairs.

“Hey! I’m coming!”

Yasha watched them, slowly following after them and retreating to her own room. Gods, she was a coward.

+ I

Beau was restless that night, she couldn’t stop thinking about Jester’s question and Yasha’s lack of an answer. She wished she could just know how Yasha felt about her. Despite how close the group had become, Yasha still kept to herself a lot of the time, and her reaction to being dared to kiss Beau hadn’t helped when it came to figuring out her feelings. Beau rolled over on her stomach, squishing her face against her pillow and groaning before pushing herself out of bed with the intention of getting a snack or maybe more to drink.

She crept quietly out of her and Jester’s shared room, careful not to wake the tiefling. Once outside, she was greeted by a shadowy figure, she pulled back her arm to deliver a stunning strike before a soft voice asked, “Beau?”

“Yasha?” She said incredulously, “Having trouble sleeping?”

Yasha’s two-toned eyes squinted slightly in the darkness to look at her, though Beau knew she could still see better than her. “A little. Did I scare you?”

“Nah,” Beau said confidently, “anything I can do to help?”

She heard Yasha’s voice form the beginning of what was no doubt a ‘no, it’s alright’ but she stopped. “…do you think you could, maybe, read this?” She asked shyly, holding out a book Beau couldn’t see the cover of in the dark. “I was going outside to read it, but if you could…” she trailed off.

“Read?” Beau was unable to keep the questioning tone out of her voice, out of everything she hadn’t expected reading to be Yasha’s first request.

“Yes, um, I think I told you I like…”

“Right, you like my voice?” Beau asked, hoping Yasha didn’t catch the slight hitch in her question.

“It’s nice,” Yasha admitted.

“Never had anyone say that before you.” Caleb has told her she was a good reader, once. Although, considering it was after she read smut aloud to the group and it sounded like the type praise one of her tutors would give, it was probably a joke and that was different for so many reasons anyway. Yasha complimented her then too. She had seemed interested throughout the entire story, probably paying the most attention other than Jester who was acting as Beau’s reading partner and liked that stuff anyway. Beau couldn’t help but wonder if Yasha has been imagining what Beau would actually sound like in a situation like that.

Not that mattered, because she was sure this book wouldn’t contain anything so salacious. “I can read to you, do you still wanna go outside or..?”

Yasha shook her head, “No, my room is alright,” she said, opening the door to her room and sitting on the bed, making room for Beau next to her on the pillow. Beau sat down next to her and took the book from her hand, opening to the first page and starting. It was all practical fighting knowledge, the kind of painfully boring basics that reminded Beau of the books found in her room at the Cobalt Soul that she never would’ve read if it had been up to her. She wondered where Yasha had gotten it.

It didn’t take long for Beau to glance over and find Yasha asleep, breath steady and face relaxed. Beau cherished the sight, she looked angelic, pale skin practically glowing in the darkness of the flower-covered room. A part of Beau wanted to stay with her, but Yasha deserved her privacy. She probably wasn’t expecting to wake up to Beau still in her bed. Beau leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Yasha’s forehead before moving to leave for her and Jester’s room again, stopped by a hand suddenly securing her wrist. Yasha was looking up at her with tired but aware eyes, apparently not as asleep as Beau had originally thought. She didn’t speak, moving her hand from Beau’s wrist up to cup the side of her face and pull her down, lips meeting her own.

Beau had always thought the descriptions of kissing in Jester’s romance books were flowery nonsense. Even with Tori, there had been no sparks, no fireworks, her body wasn’t set aflame by her touch. She just liked her a lot.

With Yasha, it was different. It wasn’t fireworks or sparks either, it was gentle. But, she felt like the world around her had disappeared entirely. She couldn’t feel the bed sheets beneath her knees or the slight sweat on the back of her neck from being so close to another person, all she could feel was Yasha. Yasha’s hand against her cheek, Yasha’s lips on her own, gently moving. It wasn’t demanding, it wasn’t even passionate in Beau’s traditional sense of the word. It was soft and sweet and everything that Yasha made Beau feel that she had never felt before.

It felt simultaneously like forever and a few moments until they separated, Beau guessed that was her logical mind warring with what she wanted. Which was to go back to kissing Yasha. “Yasha, I—“ her voice was a rough whisper.

Yasha smiled, ever so softly, “I’ve wanted to do that so many times,”

“Like during truth or dare?” Beau asked.

“Yeah, like then.”

“Me too.”

#beauyashaweek2020 #beauyasha #beau lionett #yasha nydoorin #fanfiction #fic #this will go on ao3 eventually but i can’t join rn #so sorry for the inconvient posting #i just barely made this first day #critical role #critrole #cr2 #cr yasha

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silver-wield · 4 years

Text

FF7R: What if?

I’m back with more analysis!

So, I caught a youtube theory that said because the whispers are gone now, every single event they interferred in is retconned. I was gonna be like, that sounds interesting, but then they went off on this huge tangeant that ended in – you guessed it – Cloud dying 😒

Even though it literally contradicted their own evidence they'd stated earlier in the vid.

Sephiroth says he won't let Cloud die, but then we've got Cloud having seven seconds to make a choice and sacrifice himself for the greater good. Even though Sephiroth literally said he won't let Cloud die. This is why I don't listen to theory vids where they have people live or die because it ignores canon and the devs have said canon still counts, so until we get evidence otherwise I'm gonna go ahead and say Cloud lives and please stop trying to FF15 him because that is the absolute suckiest ending for a guy who absolutely has earned and deserves his best ending – which is ALIVE. He deserves to be alive!

(Not to mention the other theories starting that Sephiroth is the good guy now...like seriously? Stuff like this makes me want to cry. Sephiroth isn't good and Cloud doesn't deserve to die. How tf is this FF7? This is the worst kind of fan fiction trash and it belongs in a dumpster fire!)

And that's my tangeant lol

So, back to the whispers and the what if. If their influence is now undone and everything they interfered in is gone I wondered what that meant. So, Imma gonna follow the ones we know about and see what conclusion we get. I've got a chart of each appearance they make in Remake, so these are the actual events they interfered in.

Let's mosey!

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven’t played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it’s gonna be huge lol.

Also, this is one person’s interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that’s cool and we’ll agree to disagree.

You’re also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I’m grabbing them from Youtube and it’s frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Please check my master post to see if I've already covered your question, thanx

Recap time!

Chapter 2 is the first time we see the whispers and their purpose here is to keep Aerith from leaving the area before Cloud arrives – because they meet in the OG – they then later chase her away – also OG – leaving him to fight the security forces alone.

So, we can't actually see them yet, but their purpose at this point is to keep Aerith from leaving the area so she can have the whole flower conversation with Cloud.

What if?

If Aerith wasn't forced to remain there, then she'd have evacuated along with other residents and gone back to sector 5. She'd never meet Cloud, never agree to go back to Shinra and the story of FF7 wouldn't happen.

Aerith is about to stay and fight alongside Cloud until a whisper chases her away, allowing her to deliver her OG line of, “Nice meeting you.”

What if?

If Aerith stayed she'd have remained with Cloud until the station, where he'd been forced to get her onto the train with Avalanche. She'd have met them and Tifa much sooner, possibly joined their cause and potentially died in the pillar if she wasn't able to convince Tifa she could go along to Don Corneo's.

The other option is Cloud would've taken her back to sector 5 once they got to sector 7 and they'd have avoided the rooftop walk, he'd have gone back to sector 7 because that's where he lives and they wouldn't have met again.

Chapter 3 is their next appearance after Cloud gets a futuristic flash of the plate collapse. They appear to distract him and prevent him from questioning what he just saw.

What if?

Cloud could bring up the plate's structural integrity around Avalanche or the neighbourhood watch. They could increase patrols around that area and get a jump on Shinra's attempt to collapse it. The increased security could mean they're successful in stopping the plate from falling.

(Don't tell Cloud this, he'll drown in guilt forever lol)

Still in Chapter 3, during the scene at Seventh Heaven where Cloud isn't included in the next reactor mission. An intangible whisper floats near the ceiling, observing events.

What if?

Since this relates to Cloud being part of the reactor 5 mission, his not going would be catastrophic for those who went instead. Why? I'll get to that in a sec.

Near the end of Chapter 4, whispers appear in Cloud's room while he sleeps. Their purpose is to ensure Cloud remains asleep(?) while they incapacitate Jessie (see conclusion for my theory).

What if?

Well, they failed, since Cloud woke up anyway, but if he'd slept through the fighting then Jessie would still be injured and he'd be on for the mission.

So, we're at the reason for the whispers last two appearances. With Cloud off the reactor 5 mission, Jessie, Barret and Biggs are the go to team. That's not what's meant to happen.

What if?

Oh, I like this one. This one has a huge impact.

Jessie goes on the mission with Barret, leaving Tifa and Cloud behind. Biggs is waiting over by the reactor the same as before.

While on the train, the security measures activate the same as before. Since Cloud was the one who suggested jumping from the train, these two won't think of it. They'll fight the bots off until they arrive at the station where they're either captured by security forces or killed on the spot.

If by some chance one of them realises they need to get off right away and they jump the same as our triple A trio did, they'd likely die during the crab warden battle.

If by some miracle they get past all of that and complete the lighting the path section to get the cargo platform moving and make it into the reactor, they're still caught by Shinra and then executed because only Cloud knows how to dispose of the Air Buster's components.

So, to put it in simple terms: they die.

Neat huh?

The very end of Chapter 7 where Cloud is falling from the scaffold into sector 5's church (what religion is this church for anyway?). Whispers appear to slow his fall and keep him alive.

What if?

He dead lol

What else should I say? He fell 300m and he's not invincible.

In the sector 5 chuch after the Reno fight, Cloud is about to kill Reno and whispers appear to stop him and drag him and Aerith away.

What if?

Another fun one.

Reno dies, the security forces either die or retreat from Cloud. If Aerith isn't traumatised by witnessing a murder right in front of her, she and Cloud walk out of the church and he takes her home, instead of the detour over the rooftops and through the scrapyard (because they'd have taken less time walking along the main road and arrived well before Rude got there in the helicopter).

Rude would've gone to the church when Reno didn't answer, found him dead, come after Cloud for revenge, been killed or badly injured and Cloud would've fixed his reputation around that sector as a badass murderer who you don't mess with.

Elmyra would've sent him on his way because she doesn't want her baby hanging out with a killer and Cloud would've arrived back in sector 7 well before Tifa had the idea to go to Don Corneo. He either would've gone with her or they'd have stormed the mansion instead of the route that actually happened. They may have still been dropped into the sewers, but with a day in hand before the operation, would've arrived back in sector 7 before Shinra arrived and saved the pillar.

Whispers cover the church and block specific exits, leaving the route to the roof open. When Aerith falls (twice) they save her.

What if?

Cloud would take a different exit besides the roof, which would lead to a similar result as above where he avoids Rude at the station and has more time to get home instead of being forced to stay overnight because “it's getting late”. He'd help Avalanche save the plate and wouldn't have to let Tifa go to Don Corneo alone.

For Aerith, the whispers saving her mean she's uninjured and can cross the rooftops. The whispers also prevent Reno from taking her back to Shinra by force.

We don't see the whispers again until all the way over in chapter 12, where they appear to block Cloud, Tifa and Aerith from reaching the pillar.

What if?

Since Cloud is the only one to go up the pillar to start, we'd see him arrive in time to save Wedge and Biggs, then move up with them to save Jessie before reaching Barret.

If we include the previous what if with Reno being killed and Rude injured then the person piloting the helicopter won't know who Cloud is and won't be as vindictive in attacking him. This means the pipes won't fall from the platform and Tifa won't go up there.

Tifa and Aerith would go to 7th heaven to get Marlene and evacuate the sector, Tseng would still appear to threaten Aerith, but Tifa may well be strong enough to deal with him On the other hand, she might not and wind up dead.

If we discount the chapter 8 what if and Reno and Rude are fine, he and Rude have Cloud, Biggs and Wedge pinned down with no solution in sight until Tifa meets up with them (the pipes would still fall here). They'd move on to meet up with Jessie and Barret as a large group, where they'd still save the plate from falling and likely kill Reno and Rude with their larger number party.

Chapter 12, Whispers surround Rude as he tosses Tifa aside and pushes the plate separation button.

What if?

Cloud or Barret would've killed Rude and stopped the plate separating.

Chapter 12, Whispers surround Wedge, keeping him in place until a piece of the plate drops on him.

What if?

Wedge would escape with his cat out of sector 7 and our triple A team wouldn't find Deepground later on. (Kinda odd, seeing how they then drag Cloud away from discovering more about his past once they're there, but it looks like the whispers don't consider their own actions aside from ensuring the current OG canon event takes place. Wedge needed to die, so they dropped shit on him.)

Chapter 13, Whispers appear during Deepground when Cloud is about to remember the experiments carried out on him.

What if?

Cloud would remember his past much sooner, likely have a breakdown right then and there, which makes him incapable of rescuing Aerith. Tifa wouldn't have the benefit of the lifestream to deep dive into his subconscious and help him, so it would likely take a lot longer for him to repair his fractured psyche. Aerith would be experimented on by Hojo, forcibly impregnated and likely killed.

After their big interference in chapters 12 and 13, we don't see the whispers again until Chapter 16, where they appear to drag Hojo away before he can spill the beans to Cloud.

What if?

Cloud is told of his fake persona and recalls the true events of what happened to him. He likely has a mental breakdown, making him useless for the rest of the escape from the lab. The team gets caught and probably executed as an example of what happens to those who go against Shinra.

Aerith is recaptured and the experiments on her continue.

Chapter 17 and whispers surround Aerith, trying to prevent her revealing the truth about who their real enemy is and other events to come.

What if?

Aerith would reveal all about Sephiroth, his role in things and possibly other details that only she knows because she's got some weird meta!Aerith thing happening this time around. She'd be a far less mysterious character and the team would know exactly what they're facing instead of being left in the dark.

At the end of chapter 17, Sephiroth stabs Barret and kills him. Whispers immediately appear to bring him back to life.

What if?

Well, Barret's dead. That means there's no one to help Aerith and Red in the mech battle as they're escaping, meaning they'll either die or be recaptured.

If they escape still and get out of Midgar, not having Barret in the team means the events in Corel change and the possibility of them not getting out or losing the battle to Dyne becomes a possibility. If they're stuck in Corel prison forever, then they're stuck forever.

If they manage to escape, there's still a huge Barret shaped hole in the team formation and they're in trouble anytime they need a long range fighter, and while Barret does fly off the handle whenever he's ranting about something, he's also got a huge heart and offers a perspective that's different to the others. He holds Cloud and Tifa together when they lose focus and is pretty much the team dad. Without him around they're not as strong emotionally or morally.

Still chapter 17 and the whispers surround Cloud as he tries to go after what he thinks is Sephiroth, but is actually a cloaked figure carrying Jenova away.

What if?

I'm suspicious about the identity of #2 here. On the one hand, stopping him from taking Jenova away means she returns to her tank and the threat from her is gone, but on the other hand, what if the reason why they were stopping Cloud is because he knows #2?

In Crisis Core we learn that Cloud was kept in the #2 tank beside Zack, but he never got a number tattoed on his arm. Because of his S cells he won't degrade and turn into a remnant like the others, but (someone correct me if I'm wrong here) Zack has G cells and would degrade eventually. It's all well and good saying he died, but what if he didn't? Before the crisp packet I mean. What if his body was collected by Hojo, had further experiments done and given a tattoo, only because he doesn't give a fuck which one of them was in which tank, he tattoos the wrong number on Zack and so he turns into #2.

It seems far too simple the whispers appeared to stop Cloud from getting to Jenova when that's a remnant that with a number that has potential revelations that would fuck Cloud all the way up.

So, he stops the remnant, learns their identity and freaks tf out and becomes useless for the rest of the escape. They're likely captured by Rufus and executed. The world ends because no one can stop Sephiroth.

The whispers appear to stop Wedge and push him out of a window, restoring canon with his death.

What if?

Does anyone think it's strange they're so insistent that Wedge dies? Why? They've tried to kill him 3 times and he's only a minor character and his being alive wouldn't affect anything.

Unless it does.

Cait Sith theory anyone? If Wedge is somehow transferred into the moogle body that Cait Sith uses then him being dead would be very important because his consciousness would be needed to pilot the moogle. We've got a lot of cat references with Wedge and he's the kind of short, squat shape the moogle is, not to mention he's desperate to be relevant to everyone. So, maybe he doesn't talk when he's the moogle, but he's self aware enough that he wants to do his part for everyone. We only find out after he dies again that it's actually him. Cue tears from Barret.

Whispers cover the Shinra building, causing a delay in our heroes departure when they stop to look at it.

What if?

Well, there'd be no road battle and everyone would get out of town a lot sooner. Maybe the whispers did just wanna see a fight.

Honestly, this one stumps me. There's so many of them. It's like a miniature version of when they cover Midgar. So, what's happening inside the Shinra building that needs them to do this much to contain it? You gotta remember, we're not always getting all the info. There's other things happening besides with Cloud and the gang.

Hojo's inside, so is Rufus and the Turks. They're obviously trying to prevent a change or delay it enough that things continue regardless, but hiding the team from Rufus who has to send troops after them doesn't seem right. I'm betting something else happened here.

The whispers appear to hold up the collapsing roadway so our heroes escape.

What if?

Well, they dead, so this one's simple lol

The whispers in the past cover Midgar.

What if?

Now, if this is an all time consequential event. This one matters. Which makes me question what's happening in the Shinra building that matters.

The glittering result happens only in Zack's scenes and the lingering glitter is then seen in the present, which indicates some sort of ripple effect going out from that point in time. So, let's track it.

Let's assume that Zack reaching Midgar is what's being prevented here and now he's gonna make it alive. Zack's death is the first jolt that brings Cloud back to himself enough to get to the city, where he then finds Tifa. If this doesn't happen because Zack is caring for Cloud, then he'll end up in sector 5 instead and still very sick. His recovery will be a lot slower and it'll be Zack who goes about with Aerith. Cloud might not recover at all by the end of the game since it's Tifa calling to him that wakes him up.

Avalanche would likely fail the first bombing mission, since they needed Cloud's expertise to get in and out. They might die in the attempt.

There's no plate fall because Avalanche failed and Shinra needed them to blame for it.

Aerith has no reason to go with the Turks and there's no rescue afterwards.

Sephiroth would still retrieve Jenova, but there'd be no one to chase after him because Zack wouldn't be inside the Shinra building because Aerith wouldn't.

Sephiroth would still need a reunion puppet to get the black materia though, so there might be several attempts before he succeeds, but I believe he would eventually even without Cloud. Meteor would be summoned and the world would end.

And that's why Zack has to die.

Whispers linger around several grunt soldiers as Zack prepares to fight.

What if?

Just confirming what I said above about Zack being a necessary key part in the machine that needs to be taken out if things are gonna continue along the ideal timeline where the planet doesn't end in a fiery ball of death and destruction.

Conclusion.

I'm not gonna add the giant whisper battle because that's obvious, but there's definitely some inconsistences happening with what the planet deems important. There's huge events that actually make a difference when you track them and then there's some that make you go “wtaf?”

Most of the whispers interfering is to keep people alive or ensure continuity. They don't get in the way otherwise.

Except one time.

Chapter 4, where you even hear a voice ??? saying to sleep and dream sweet dreams. That doesn't seem right.

I mean, it sounds like Sephiroth and if I was gonna make a reach, the whole dream imagery has been very clearly linked to Aerith in Remake, so is he saying to remain within the dream so that reality can't happen? If Sephiroth wanted to succeed he'd prefer Cloud to avoid reality right? He told him to run away, to live, to leave, to avoid things. He wants Cloud to choose not to fight.

He's a bad guy (no redemption bullshit please), but his motives are much more complicated this time round. He's been very closely linked with Aerith a few times. He touches her. She's the only person beside Cloud he touches. Sure, it's a vision, but the devs still had it happen. And Sephiroth's voice is heard coming from Aerith's direction at the end of the game.

It's obvious this Sephiroth isn't the same as the OG one, but how much is he aware of? I don't believe the whole time travel theory. I do believe the meta!theory, because Sephiroth could get info from the lifestream the same way Aerith did at the start when she's staring at the mako coming out of the pipe. He could still be OG Sephiroth using what he learned during his little dip to manipulate events in his favour. There doesn't have to be a need for time travel to do this. Aerith's changing stuff without being a time traveller ffs. People need to stop going “well it's Nomura” and acting like anything ott is a go.

What I'm getting at is people need to stop looking at this from a mile long distance and screaming time travel because that's all games and films have done lately and look at it using the actual evidence we've got in the game. What we got is the whispers had clear motives for what they did, except one time when a voice was heard. Yall need to look at this shit the devs are dropping in front of your noses because this is where the plot is happening.

#final fantasy 7 remake spoilers #final fantasy 7 remake theory #Sephiroth motives #what if #meta theory #Final fantasy 7 remake analysis #whispers analysis

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