#maybe legend being friends with anyone is just terrifying
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Twilight and Legends relationship
...I love it
**in this post there's a lot of stuff I didn't notice before. I'm gonna resist the urge to write an essay on each point, and attempt to leave most of it up to the reader's interpretation**
Ok ok there's a ton of stuff here, starting with early character scenes
They're like the rest of the chain: They fight together and talk. Legend is close to Hyrule, and Twilight to Wild and Time.
We see some things Twilight and Legend have in common. One is their dislike of Hyrule knights, and-
As seen in the Gerudo clothes scene, both Twi and Leg like to mess around with pranks and have a lot of snark... wonder what would happen if they worked together
But there's something really important about how Twilight views Legend:
I wasn't aware this was before looking closely at their interactions but... Twilight didn't originally like Legend. This is shown a lot later on- in his facial expressions and words towards Legend. But from the start he didn't like him much, and here's why:
From the start, Jojo says this- Twilight judges Legend's actions as too harsh since his mannerisms come across as picking on someone. (Also Sky you are so so pure and cute 10/10 most huggable Link)
Legend is abrasive because he's had so many adventures- he's hardened to the point of being sharp. But it's wonderful that that character can still be so loved- his heart is good (hero duh)
Twilight has always been a big brother. It makes him well loved (rightly so). Jojo says he knows people can change- for good or bad. But because of his past Twilight doesn't like people picking on others "not even a little". It's complicated- we see it affect Twilight's attitude towards Legend a lot.
Anywho moving on to the plot
Wolfie, Aka twilight
Dark mirror stuff happens, and Legend finds out Twi's Wolfie- as we all know. But he can't just. Acknowledge it of course. He's gotta probe and tease, asking pointed questions (snark snark snark)
And in his attempts to be certain about the Wolf stuff, we were blessed with:
Bunny Legend
Welp. That investigation did not go as planned.
Animal forms:
Bunnies are soft, but Legends actions are not. He is guarded and sharp yet his form shows how sweet his true heart is
Wolves will love/protect their family yet are fierce, they have fangs and will fight. The root of who Twilight is is his kindness and family
Also (sarcastic) good job to Four and Wild for being SO SUBTLE with their emotions when Legend's asking questions hinting he knows Twi's secret
Legend: asking questions about the secret shhh
Four and Wild: Are having a freaking heart attack about it
Twilight: starts ranting about goats
...
Once Twilight gets over the shock of Legend like. Absorbing his crystal. He... well, looking at the harshness in his face and words, this is where Legend's attitude and his past with Colin being bullied biased him against Legend.
Look at his face in each panel through the progression- Twilight is more and more confused thinking legend is not who he thought he was...
And Twilight certainly sympathizes/relates to being hurt by losing someone he loved (in whatever form the relationship took)
And WHY is it always girlfriend trauma with these boys of COURSE it's girlfriend trauma that brings them together NOT SHARING A SPIRIT AND LOVE OF SWINGING GLORIFIED METAL NO THEY HAVE TO BOND OVER RELATIONSHIPS GONE WRONG
Twilight then thinks well that's a good reason to be pretty changed because from the start Jojo said he'll always understand people changing...
So they go, and make legend human again (with pink hair) and Legend is... surprised. And grateful...
Another few defining moments:
Legend's dialogue thanking him is the real start of them connecting like in Leg's original character description "the most reliable, you want him on your team"
And again Twi's face, Twilight is looking at Leg differently throughout this- contemplating to be honest. Considering...
And remember when I said these two both like to prank? Well the second they have a shared experience and get back to camp they immediately team up and start barraging Warriors with snark
Heaven help the chain when these two are on the same side
Legend has never been close to people outside of the few he's accepted as his (love him and hyrule's bond). After this? Twilight's one of his people. There's much more expression of caring and closeness towards Twilight- something we don't see with many.
And then, well, Twilight nearly dies. And Legend, he cares
Bunny boys puppy dog eyes are gonna kill me someday
Twilights pretty injured, he really doesn't see/remember all these moments showing how much Legend wants to help
And then we have this moment
this moment
Matters so so much
Look at Twi's face. Look at his surprise, realization, and acceptance- this is when he realizes- when he sees how much Legend cares for him
Twi woke from his deathbed for his family
and then in the next few updates it's really cute- he just is barely recovering and legend is just... beside him. Staying by his side
Animal forms later development:
Legend's bunny form is soft- but he is still not totally soft. Looking at Legends actions and facial expressions towards the others, while he's definitely closer to Twi now, he's still the snarky boy we know and love.
Twilight's Wolf form is loyal and loves family: Once he knows legends heart? Full on pack love.
And WHY were they so very intent on petting each other
Legend: I'm gonna go try and pet the wolf since I think he's my dude yes good plan
Twilight: I KNOW THIS IS WEIRD BUT IVE NEVER PET A RABBIT BEFORE LET ME TOUCH YOU
...
Here's a few random parallels of them to chew on because I love parallels (them snarky snarking each other, then some brother love parallels)
The thing with these two is their character bonding and whatever is not all sweet and lovey like some of the others. They have some REALLY sweet caring moments with each other. But snark plus snark equals double snark, meaning them together is the weirdest mix of kindness and teasing you've ever seen
And although at the beginning they were pretty harsh towards each other, it makes their getting closer and learning their similarities all the better.
#lots of food for thought#I was surprised to notice Jojos words and Twi's expressions showing he didn't like Legend at first#maybe the progression is the best part#they are so close and care so much#but the pranking???#literally the second they get back to camp after bonding they start messing with the others#the snarkiest boys what mischief will they commit#they're terrifying together#if legend hyrule and wild are the terror trio maybe these two are the terror duo#maybe legend being friends with anyone is just terrifying#loz#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu#lu twilight#Lu legend#I love them so much#now onward! to homework!#ugh college
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Eddie’s trying not to beg Steve to stay. Harrington’s already gone above and beyond for him, he deserves a night to sleep in his own bed. But God, does it have to be now? No one will talk about it except to pat his hand and tell him with tight lipped smiles that there’s nothing to worry about- legally the mob can’t do anything. Eddie’s been declared innocent, a tragic victim of the copycat killer.
It doesn’t change the fact that there’s been a group of people standing vigil outside the hospital since he got there. It doesn’t change the fact that the group has been growing in numbers until all of Hawkins seems to either be fleeing in desperation or taking up camp four floors below the room where Eddie lies unable to walk as far as the bathroom without help. It doesn’t change the energy of the mob, steadily humming louder, faster, with the intensity of a hive about to swarm.
“Should have known he’d be hightailing it when trouble came,” Wayne tells him. He’s furious on Eddie’s behalf that Steve would leave now, when the police protection detail has been declared no longer necessary. When the mob below is bigger than ever and angry enough that Eddie can feel it all the way up here.
“He didn’t want to go, he needs to sleep.” Eddie saw how badly Steve wanted to stay, how he was sweating and jaundiced and worse looking than he had since that first fight with the demobats. Steve needed to go home, deserved to go home. But part of Eddie, most of Eddie, wails inside for Steve not to leave him. Not tonight, please not tonight. He’d tried not to let Steve see it, doubted how well his subterfuge had worked.
“I wish I could stay but I just can’t, not tonight. I’m so sorry. But I promise- Anything goes wrong Eds, I’ll be here. I have to go now but if anyone needs me, if you need me, I’ll be here, I swear it.” He’d done a strange thing then, pressing Eddie’s hand to his brow before kissing the back of it like something out of one of the tales of courtly love Eddie had devoured as an Arthurian-legend obsessed kid. And then Steve was leaving. It was almost nightfall. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at Eddie, his face anguished.
True to form, Eddie rallied. “Go on, and don’t worry about lil’ old me. I’ll be fine.”
The mob waits until just after midnight, then comes for him. They drag him from his bed, and Eddie has an insane thought apt to this insane situation that he’s glad he wore sweatpants under his hospital johnny so at least he’s not going to die bare-assed in front of the remaining population of Hawkins. Or maybe he jinxed himself by assuming the worst when he decided to wear them that night.
He sees the kids being held back by their parents, screaming for him as he’s hauled to the elevator, hopes desperately that Claudia and Karen and Sue and Charles will be strong enough to restrain them. The kids aren’t babies anymore; they’re tough and too used to fighting to protect their own. But this isn’t a fight they can win and he prays that parent-adrenaline will be enough let them wrangle his stupid, brave friends away from his side. He couldn’t keep Wayne away, they’d shouted at each other, all terrified love, him trying to make Wayne go, until the moment the door broke down and he was being dragged, his uncle’s grip still white-knuckled on Eddie’s wrist hard enough to bruise.
Everyone is shouting, himself included. He’s pleading his innocence, swearing he never hurt Chrissy. Until he sees the pyre and all the words evaporate inside him and he’s just screaming. They’re jeering at his tears, his terror. Calling him killer, devil-worshipper, Satan himself and worse. And then- something in the atmosphere shifts.
Eddie doesn’t see why the mob’s screaming changes, he’s hypnotized by the pyre. Do I weigh more than a duck? He thinks. You can’t burn me if I weigh more than a duck and then oh I’m hysterical.
“Get away! Get away from it!” They sound higher pitched now, a note of vibrato in the clamor. The shift in his captors’ tenor finally seeps in and Eddie looks around. The number of people buffeting him to a hideous end is shrinking, people peeling off and running. He can hear gunshots and then-
Snarling. Crunching sounds. Someone- something roaring into the night. It’s just the men holding Eddie now, Carver’s crew mostly. Wayne’s run up beside them and they don’t spare him a glance as he wrenches Eddie away from them. There’s a wolf. Massive, tawny, scarred, absolutely furious- lunging for them, slashing them with razor sharp claws until none of them are left standing. When the last of the mob is gone the wolf pads close and presses against Eddie’s side with a whine.
The kids come sprinting to him. “Jesus Christ, Steve! Well now they’re definitely going to think Eddie’s the lord of evil!” says Mike.
Eddie looks down at the wolf. He still feels like he might have a heart attack any minute, but the warm, soft fur is grounding. Steve Harrington looks up at him under the light of the full moon and wags his tail.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#stranger things hc#stranger things au#werewolf steve harrington#mob violence#violence cw#steve/eddie#st steddie
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For the febwhump:
Day 10 with little legend in ALTTP and killing a knight for the first time?
Okay, so Legend wasn't really talking (shock and grief do that, it's okay) so this is Fable's POV. I hope you enjoy it!
Rating: Teen
Wordcount: 4,985
Summary: Death is familiar to the little girl who will one day be queen. To the boy she had to ask to be her champion, not so much.
Zelda has never particularly thought about death before.
Sure, mother and father were betrayed and killed by a dear friend, and she knows this, but it’s just as much a fact of life to her as the stones of the castle and the swords in the hands of her grandfather’s knights. Death exists and she’s seen it, seen public executions held for terrible criminals and traitors to the crown, but even to her tender years these things are simply part of life. The people who die are always faceless people who don’t matter anymore, and she’d never known her parents anyway, so why should she mourn for them?
She’s heard the castle staff call her a ‘cold little thing’, but in a world where her destiny is to wait for the next escape of a demon she or her descendants must face, how can they blame her? Especially since most of the staff don’t seem to like her much anyway, or Grandfather. She gets the idea that the king of Hyrule isn’t liked at all by most people, but she doesn’t know why and she’s long since given up asking. The knights only assure her with their loyalty and the servants excuse themselves under the pretext of having chores to attend to.
It’s alright, she doesn’t really care what they think. She doesn’t really care about them either.
That is, until suddenly her maid is dead and she’s being hauled down to a dungeon by soldiers who now do not swear their allegiance with charming smiles, but who march, stone-faced, to lock her up, despite her demands to know what’s going on, what they think they’re doing, and what on earth is wrong with them. She can feel it, a heavy magic settled over them, and she doesn’t blame them for their actions, since she knows they aren’t in control, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying when she’s tossed into the cold stone cell and left there, locked up like one of Grandfather’s prisoners. Calls into the darkness for answers go unheard, and as the night drags on, all she can do is wish, wish, wish for someone to please just answer, to get her out.
Maybe the servants wouldn’t call her a cold little thing if they could see her curled up in her cell, pretty dress ruined and golden hair dirty, sobbing her eyes out into her skirts, but they aren’t here. She doesn’t even know if they’re alive. She doesn’t mourn them either, although there's some distant idea of sadness that their families might not see them again and that they don’t deserve to die just because of whatever it is that’s happening. Still, death isn’t a very present thought in her mind until at last, she manages to catch wind of what’s going on.
Aganim, her father’s old friend and counselor, who’s been serving her grandfather for some time now, has betrayed them, has taken control of the minds of their knights, and now intends to re-open the Sacred Realm, which her ancestors sealed, in order to- like so many other foolish, foolish people- try and obtain the Triforce. To do it, he must first gain the power of the seven sages and the princess herself, and based on what little she knows of dark magic, she’s rather sure he’s not just going to ask them all nicely.
She needs to get out, desperately. She needs to get out before Aganim uses her magic to open the way to the realm where Ganon is sealed! She needs to get out before he kills her, using her like an offering, just like what almost happened to the Spirit Maiden all those thousands of years ago!
Her wishes and cries to the heavens grow more and more desperate. A call to anyone, just anyone, to please just come and help her!
“Who's calling to me?” The answering voice startles her, makes her pull her head up and look around, trying to see the person speaking. The voice sounds almost like her own, but tired, so tired, and somewhat confused.
She feels the same. She hasn’t been able to rest all day, attending to her studies, and now she’s spending the night in a dungeon, away from feathered pillows and heavy blankets and any small semblance of warmth. She wants out, but here, at last, someone’s heard her.
“My name is Zelda,” she says back, wishes back. She doesn’t think there’s a person here with her, just a voice.
She’s heard those favored by the Triforce can gain strange power, but being able to send and receive thoughts isn’t something she’d been counting on. Still, she’s not complaining, and she’s not going to question it either, just as long as she can get out of here and back to someplace safe.
Oh heavens, is grandfather safe? Will Aganim do anything to him? He doesn’t have powers to use and he’s not much of a threat these days, not without anyone to back him up. Will the wizard maybe let her grandfather go? Just lock him up or hide him or not let him do anything? Is he under control of the wizard too, like the knights?
“I’m Link,” the voice answers, still confused, still tired, still sounding too young to do her any good.
She’s no adult herself, but everyone else is. Still, maybe he can tell someone? Maybe he can send help? At least someone can hear her, she’s not going to give up just because they sound like they’re her age! “Help! I’m Zelda! I’m trapped in the castle dungeons! Please, send some help!”
Like a ribbon slipping between her fingers, the presence she could feel answering her; the warmth and light and ray of hope, slips away, no voice answering in return. She slumps down onto the stone again, sobbing. It’s not fair! She hasn’t done anything wrong! She doesn’t understand! Why is this happening? Why would her father’s old friend do this to them? Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Why is the only one to hear her a child?
Just a boy. Just some kid out there who probably doesn’t know how to get around in a castle or how to deal with a knight or a wizard. Just a kid, and she knows, she knows, kids never get listened to! No one listens to her, and she’s the princess! So why would anyone listen to a random kid? Especially one who tries to say that the princess is in danger, when most people don’t like royals to begin with, and anyway, no one’s going to believe that sort of thing! As far as anyone outside the castle probably thinks, she’s all tucked up in her big bed, just finished with dinner, and drifting off to sleep. Who’d bother to check and see otherwise? Especially if it’s only at the behest of a child!
Maybe some people think she’s cold, but the sobs that ring through the dungeons sound terribly awful to her, and it’s enough to make her cry harder, because try as she might, the sounds and sights of crying just makes her cry, no matter how much she fights it. Her own tears echo back off the stone, like the wailing of some tortured soul, and her mind flies off to what and who might have been here before her.
What sorts of people have lived in these dungeons? Died in these dungeons? Where there ever any little girls like her? Did they die down here? Did they escape? Did they have mums and dads to try and get them out, to hold them, or did they get left down here like she is? Just sobbing and crying with no one to hear them until they died and did whatever dead things do.
The old books say that dead things are monsters that wander around, long and thin with ghastly smiles, and attack heroes and knights when they come too close. What if that sort of a dead-monster is down here? Gibdoes, she thinks they’re called, or is it redeads? Whatever they are, she doesn’t want them to be down here. She’d much rather be alone and forgotten than be found by something so awful.
Except she won’t be forgotten, her mind whispers, and it’s not such a comforting thought as she wishes it was. Aganim knows she’s here, and he wants to keep her here until he’s ready to sacrifice her, split her open and make her blood spill to give power to his spell.
She’s seen heads chopped off before, but they were far away and not important. She didn’t care who they were, because it didn’t matter once they were dead and she couldn’t do anything about it anyway. Will other people think about her that way? Will it not matter? Impa will care, and Grandfather too- if he’s still okay, if he finds out, but who else will care? The knights who are nice to her are now mean and cold, and the servants never liked her anyway. The thought of being forgotten is worse than the idea of turning into a dead monster and trying to eat people- or something, but she’s all out of sobs and her eyes hurt from crying.
It doesn’t matter anyways, no one can hear her either way.
Or, rather, she thought so, only there’s the sound of feet in the hall. Feet that patter softly and do not thud and thump like the heavy boots that knights wear or swish and shuffle like the wizard in his great heavy robe. No, they creep slowly across the stone, slow and unsure, like a deer coming slowly out of the trees. They move quietly and quickly, but hesitate, and that alone tells her it’s not a rambling, long dead evil that wanders the halls, nor a servant or soldier who knows this castle. It's not feet she knows, but foreign feet are her best chance of getting out, so she pulls herself up, wipes away what’s left of her tears, and moves to peek through the bars of her cell and out into the hall.
She cannot see anything but stone. Whomever crafted these cells had no intention of allowing the occupants to see what was happening anywhere save just in front of the door.
She can still hear though. She can hear the quiet, unsure tapping of boots. More importantly though, she can feel, and that delicate, evasive ribbon of hope drifts back into her hands, a light presence making itself know in the darkness around her, like a candle coming alight befgore her tired and puffy eyes.
The boy.
Link.
She isn’t sure why he’s here, alone, but at least someone is trying. It’s more than she supposes some people would do, and at least he listened to her, which is far more than most people have done! His steps are wary, but she calls out, with her mind, like before, rather than her voice, urging him closer, telling him that’s he’s close, almost there. Just a little further and he’ll be here and maybe, just maybe, they can figure out some way to get this prison open, or at least she can tell him what’s going on so he can tell someone else.
If the Sacred Realm is unsealed, Ganon will be set free, and the people of Hyrule are not prepared for that. They need to send warning- she needs to send warning, needs to tell someone and get the word out, to give something to her people so they know that things aren’t as they seem, that they’re sitting on the edge of a precipice, too close to the fiery hell before them. Her history books talk about a time when Ganon won, when he ruled their kingdom. She doesn’t want that for them, especially because she’s heard grandfather say they’ve only just recovered from that war. They can’t take it again. Hyrule needs peace. She doesn’t think peace is likely, but maybe they can stop too much of the world from being hurt by the evil magic, if they stop Aganim before he can do anything more.
The feet stop.
She can hear breathing now, soft and rattling somewhat, like her own does as she tries so hard to look through the bars of her prison. Has he been crying, like she has? Come to think of it, if she, locked up and also away from anything else in here, is scared, how must it be for some common boy who’s probably never been in the castle? Or the dungeons much less? For all she knows, he might have been here before, to visit someone or say goodbye before an execution, but still! He’s got to be at least a little scared too.
She tries reaching out, listening again. His voice had been tired then, but she’d heard it, heard it from far away (because she knows there aren’t any little boys in the castle; she’s the only one her age). She could hear it then, so he, like her, must have been able to catch ahold of her thoughts, sent out like a wish to the stars she can’t see from in here. That means maybe she can reach out and hear his!
Except that the sound of a loud clang makes her jump, startle back and fall over, unable to see what it was that made the sound, but well able to hear what’s happening, and tell that it’s very close indeed. There’s a scuffle, a gasp that shudders before there’s panting, feet skidding over stone and another loud clang.
It sounds like the executioner’s axe on the stone of a courtyard.
“Shit!”
It’s him. It's Link. That's his voice, breathing and panting and gasping as she hears another clang, this time the blade screeching off of stone.
Desperately, she moves along the bars of her cell, trying to see out, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s happening. She’d call out, but Grandfather always told her to keep quiet if she hears things that worry her. Enemies might be close and she should never make it known where she’s hiding, because that puts her and anyone with her in danger, and princesses should not put people in danger if they can help it. So, she keeps her mouth shut, and her ears open.
Light feet dart, this time without hesitation, a hiss of breath that maybe carries soft words on it sounding, as well as the rasping of a second voice, breathing within something. Breathing within something heavy and thick, making it echo. It sounds like a knight, one with one of those very big and scary helmets that Grandfather makes them take off if she’s around, so she can see their real faces instead of the cold iron ones.
She hopes it’s not a knight.
The sound of an axe hitting stone, yet again, says it might be.
Link’s voice is panting, feet darting. She hears a hiss of steel, a sword drawing, and then there are a series of very loud blows. There’s yelps and shouts from Link, but nothing from the heavy, echoing breather, just the slam of an axe, again and again.
She can’t do anything. She can’t help or watch and she can only hear the awful sounds, the cry of pain from what she thinks has to be Link, and the clang, clang, clang of blades on stone, on armor, or on each other. She can only sit. Only sit and hope.
No, she can pray. Grandfather says that her lineage, that mother and grandmother and all of them, that their prayers mean something extra special, because they have power from the heavens. When bad things happen, even if he won’t let her know what, he always tells her to pray. Pray for their people and the kingdom and for him, so he’ll do what he should, or can figure out what to do. She always does. Impa takes her to the little prayer rooms in the castle, or sometimes down to the church, and she offers prayers between her studies and her meals until Grandfather tells her that things are better again. She may not be good at a lot, but she has lots of practice praying, so even though the cell floor is so dirty and the clanging of weapons is nothing like the deep ringing of bells, she still kneels and prays as hard as she can. Prays until she hears a scream and a shout and heavy thud.
The clanging stops.
She keeps praying. Please let Link have won. She doesn’t know how (unless maybe he’s a squire? Yes that could work!) but she needs it to be him who won. She needs to know that the only person who can hear her call for help is indeed the one who’s still standing, because she doesn’t know if she can handle having hope stray so close only to be torn away at the very last of seconds.
Soft, gently scuffing boots creep across the floor again, heavy panting, like a fawn just escaped from a hunter, peeking out to see if it’s safe once more.
“Link? Is that you?” She doesn’t get up, keeps her hands folded, she’s got to be ready to start praying for help again if it isn’t.
The voice that answers back is gentle candle-light and warmth, although it shakes and stammers. “M-Miss Zelda?” She doesn’t have time to get up before feet move closer and then there’s a boy standing in front of her. He’s short, maybe her height but probably a bit shorter, with messy pink hair hastily tucked under a green cap. His eyes are wide and blown out in the darkness, but the lantern in his hand makes them dance a bit too, almost red. Red to match the blood that spatters up and across his front, covers his boots and still touches his hands and the cloak wrapped up around him. “Are you okay?”
She blinks. Is she okay? Why is he asking that? She’s the one who just sat in here, praying, untouched, and he was the one that fought...whatever it is that he just fought. “I’m alright. Are you? You’re covered in blood...”
He winces, looks away, doesn’t look down and instead his flickering eyes dart all over everything else, as if desperate to not think about the fresh crimson all over him. “I’m okay.” And then, a moment later. “It’s....it’s not mine.”
His tunic is ripped a bit on one side, and she can see where damage has been done, but she doesn’t challenge him. Boys are funny, Impa says, and if you tell them they’re wrong they pout and throw a fit and won't listen to you anymore. Link’s the first person who’s listened in a long time; she doesn’t want to lose that. Instead, she just nods, doubtful, but doesn’t say anything. It’s not like either of them can do anything about it anyways. She can’t heal and there’s nothing she can offer him either.
He glances at her, and she recognizes abruptly that his eyes are terribly vacant. He’s there, he sees her, but he doesn’t seem to register anything else, just stare at her dumbly, like he’s not all inside his head.
“Did you happen to see a key somewhere?” It’s sort of a reach, since she doubts that the wizard would make it that easy, but the flickering crimson eyes turn back again towards the way he’d come from, and she can see him shudder, revulsion briefly marring his otherwise rather pretty features.
He nods. “Yeah.” There’s no waiting for her to say anything, just the setting down of the lantern in his hand, an old thing but well-tended, and he moves back out of her sight again. There’s some shuddering and catching of breath, rustling and clanking, and a squelch she supposes might be blood. He’s back again a moment or so later, slower than before, but holding the keys. They’re also covered in blood. He’s got more on him too, but his dull eyes are focused on the door, on unlocking it and pushing it open, and she’s quick to stand when he does.
She will not stay any longer, not now that there’s a way out. She’s not sure which of them took the other’s hand first, but as she tells him where to go, he leading the way with the light and with a still dripping sword on his back, and she following, it doesn’t matter. She follows past the fallen corpse of what she recognizes as the royal executioner, through the halls that run rampant with rats, trudging through sewers and mire and muck. The ground underfoot squelches, making her stomach churn. The quickly cooling blood that smears over her hand from Link’s own only makes it worse, and she fights back the urge to pull away. She has to stay with him though; he’s her only hope and only protector, there’s no other way out and she can’t do this alone.
They walk and walk, and she’d never realized before how many traps and dangers lay between the castle and the many hidden exits it possesses. The tunnel is cold, is wet, is damp, and once they exit again into the outside world, she finds it’s much the same. Rain beats down, lighting flashing overhead and thunder booming in their ears as they dart across the open spaces of Hyrule Field. Now out of the castle, she’s not sure what they ought to be doing, but she follows him. She’s never allowed outside alone, but he’ll know this land well, he’ll have lived here. He’ll know enough to hopefully know a safe place for them to hide. Still, it’s terrifying. She’s never seen the world flash like this, never slipped and tripped and made herself this muddy before. Link wraps her in his cloak, eyes still blank and distant, hands deft and fumbling, and while it’s warmer, by just a bit, it smells terribly of blood. Still, it’s better than nothing.
In time, through the rain, she can make out a familiar structure. Almost like a second home for how often she’s been there; the church rises up before them with it’s spires and glittering windows, bells chiming twice and twice only, just as they’re hurrying up towards the doors. She knows they’ll be unlocked.
They are.
Link pushes them open with some trouble, more than they require at any rate, but it’s only then that she realizes that he’s shaking. Not from cold, she doesn’t think, otherwise it would have started far earlier, he would have been shaking when he first came to her, because he was soaked then too, wet and spattered in muck from the sewers as well as the blood. No, now he’s shaking so violently that she finds herself reaching to take the lantern from his hand the moment they're inside the dimly lit sanctuary.
“Princess Zelda?” The familiar voice of the church Father catches her attention, making her turn from her companion to face the man. It’s two in the morning by the ring of the bells, and she can’t fathom why he’s awake, but there’s a candle burning and the smell of incense in the air, familiar and, like Link himself, an assuring presence that makes her heart stop the pounding in her chest, settling instead with a heavy sigh and soft cry she didn’t know was still left in her.
The Father hurries towards them, and while she’s always been taught to be reverent, she can’t help but throw herself into open arms, shaking and trembling herself as his hand soothes her hair, warm, creaking voice- ancient as the trees she thinks sometimes, sounding in words she doesn’t bother to hear.
They’re brought in and given warm blankets, and the bell-ringer appears to offer them warm tea, which she drinks slowly while the Father sits between them. Relief is a strange thing, a foreign thing, but she accepts it the same way she’s been taught to accept her other confusing feelings, sitting and listening to her heart and letting her mind spin until it finds itself too tired to keep on spinning. Soft prayers and the sound of rain fill her ears, and when at last she’s got a handle on herself again, she turns to look at her savior.
Link is still shaking, arms wrapped tightly about himself and eyes vacant.
She reaches out, not with her hands, but with the thoughts in her head, like before, and this time there’s no sudden noise to disrupt it. Link’s thoughts are far more jumbled and spinning than even her own.
‘-didn’t mean to, I didn’t! I- oh heavens, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t! I- he's dead, I killed him he died and I- I- oh heaven help! I didn’t want to! I didn’t-” he’s shaking, teeth gnawing his lip and eyes slipping closed. ‘We’re safe, we’re safe, we’re safe. I got Miss- Princess Zelda is safe and I got her here and I didn’t end up crying and I didn’t let her down. God, she must have been so scared, I know I was, let her be okay? It must have been awful being locked up in there! I- I couldn’t-” he’s shaking his head, hands plucking at is sleeves, at the blanket. Even with the rain, there’s still bits of blood stuck about his nails and the cuffs of his sleeves, and he seems acutely aware of that fact. His mind spins so much she’s dizzy just listening, hearing him worry first for her and then be washed over with regret at killing, only to them have his mind drift to death and watching people die and-
Zelda is struck with the sudden realization that Link, unlike herself, is not accustomed to death. She’s seen it enough times that seeing a body only brings disgust and discomfort, but sadness does not wash over her to see an enemy laid low. She’d only thought to avoid the pooling blood as passing the slain knight outside of her cell, but Link is actively experiencing regret for ending said knight’s life.
“Link?
The Father turns at her words, but the boy does not, instead rocking slowly as too fast breaths escape him.
“Link, dear boy, can you hear me?” It’s such a relief to release it to the Father and let him try to get the attention of her savior, the man turning fully towards the curled up little boy, one hand settling on his shoulder.
Link does not respond.
The father’s hand slips to rub across trembling shoudlers, steady, soothing motions as his voice, warm and soft, continues. “I do not know what brought you here at this hour, but you are safe here, my son. It is alright.”
“M-Miss-”
“The princess is alright.” The Father assures. “She is safe here as well, and no one will hurt her.”
There’s a small sob from her companion and she can hear his thoughts, the raging swell of the becoming less and less an effort to hear, instead pushing back against her, pushing out and demanding release, pouring into her own mind with terrifying clarity. Pain, anguish, regret, fear, guilt, overwhelming sadness. The ever-present thought of “be strong for her, she looks so scared” makes something inside her own heart twist up and her own breath catch.
“You got me out,” she murmurs, because speaking aloud seems almost wrong in the silence and peace of the otherwise empty church, “thank you.”
Dull eyes fall, Link burying his face in his arms with a sob that has tears pricking at her own eyes all over again. Shre’s always been weak to tears, a fault that Grandfather has warned her must be controlled, lest it be used against her, but she can’t help but cry along with the boy beside her, even as the Father comforts them.
Maybe she’s used to death, but he isn’t. More so though, he’s the one who swung the blade. He had killed a man, killed for her and soiled hands that no doubt had never caused harm further than a fight with friends or other such mischief that common children are allowed to get up to. Blood is new to him, terrifying still, not something he was raised watching be spilled, not something he expects.
His clothes are soaked with it. Even though a potion was given to him, prompted slowly to his lips and choked down dumbly, he’s got his own blood and that of the fallen knights both spattered over him, staining his clothes. It’s not only theirs though, because her peeks into his thoughts grant her visions of a man, in the same dungeons as they had been, wounded and bleeding out, of this same boy, only moments before finding her, finding said man and pleading, fighting against the flow of blood, of tears on his face and hurt in his heart. He’d lost someone just before coming to her. He’d been blank even before killing, forcing himself onwards to help her, guided only by the final words of the dead man in the sewers. He’d wandered and been chased, had faught a foe three times his own size, been forced to thrust a sword that’s too big for him into the heart of a man after just seeing the effects of the same.
Death is following this boy, biting at his heels tonight, and the more their thoughts bleed together in her head, the more the weight of what has happened hits her.
He’s killed for her, and with the knights taken over and the only ones on her side being the Father and this boy, she might have to ask him to do it again.
#alttp#a link to the past#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu legend#lu fable#ketto writes#asks and answers#febuwhump#febuwhump2024#tw death#tw blood
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A Thousand Ways
Chapter 6: "No weapons? No problem"
Dropped into yet another Hyrule, Legend finds himself without food and a very easy but questionable option to get it: stealing.
He hoped Four didn't mind, he'd pay them back eventually!
First | <<Previous | Next>>
Not Febuwhump (continuing plot)
Read On AO3
Warnings: None :)
This time, he actually managed to find a village.
From the bright colors and thick with a nearly unnoticeable fae magic, he was certain it was Four's Hyrule. The town he found had been Castle Town, unbelievably, he could see the castle looming over the land. The town was filled with markets, bustling with merchants and traders.
He didn't have any money, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from getting supplies.
He slipped through the streets, feet light and movements hard to follow. He smoothly took a cloak from a stall as he passed, noting the name of the supposed maker and the price tag. He'd ask Four to give his pay later.
He did the same with an apple, which he ate and threw away before his next attempt: a bag of jerky, which was also successful. Then he tried for a loaf of bread.
It wasn't until the bread that someone saw him.
"Hey! You didn't pay for that!"
Legend knew, objectively, the better move would've been to play it off as an honest mistake, but he also knew they hadn't seen his face yet and he really didn't want to be recognized here.
So instead, he absconded with the bread.
"HEY! STOP— GUARDS!"
He ran through the streets, ducking indiscriminately through alleyways until he was sure he had lost his pursuers, and he ducked behind a corner of crates and waited with bated breath.
Nothing. He didn't hear anything, anyone approaching, and he let out a soft sigh of relief, relaxing into his hiding place. He'd made it. He had on a simple green cloak, so he blended in amongst the masses of colorfully dressed people easily. He'd be fine—
A blade appeared beneath his neck.
"Don't move."
He internally cursed out everything he could as he stiffened, still clutching the loaf of bread to his chest. He tried to keep his head down enough that the hood of his stolen cloak covered his face. The tip of a steel blade was at his throat, under his chin, and forced him to raise his head.
He looked up unwillingly and made eye contact with the man. He seemed about middle-aged, if on the younger end of that, so maybe about forty or so, with blond hair and blue eyes and in knight garb.
"How old are you?" The knight asked, a captain, Legend would guess.
Legend glared but kept his mouth shut.
The knight raised an eyebrow. He moved to stand in front of Legend then knelt down, his sword still at his neck. "I asked you a question, young man, and don't you think about lying to me."
Legend snarled. "What does it matter to you?" He spat. "Just take the damn bread and throw me in jail, get it over with."
The knight seemed to soften. "You just stole bread...."
Legend scoffed.
"Just tell me how old you are, kid."
He continued to glare. The knight sighed, he sheathed his sword and held out his hand. Legend placed the loaf into it, remaining as pressed against the wall and crate as he could. He really couldn't handle being thrown into a cell anytime soon, he just had to hope that the knight would let him off with a warning.
The knight tucked the loaf under an arm and held out his hand again.
Legend stared uneasily. What else did he want? He didn't know about anything else Legend stole, and he wasn't going to preemptively hand it off.
"Come on," the knight said gently. "I'll help you out, as long as you don't steal anymore."
He felt his mouth drop open a bit. He'd done this a thousand times but always from the other side. He'd scared off guards and helped terrified, starving kids get food and shelter, taking them to friends who had always wanted children and could support them.
He didn't think he'd count as a starving kid, but apparently he looked miserable enough that the knight was taking pity on him. A knight.
"You don't even know me," Legend blurted. "Why?"
"You remind me of my sons," the knight explained. "Will you trust me?"
He didn't have many other options, Legend guessed. It was either this, it was jail... or he tried to run again.
Except he was exhausted. He'd barely slept the night prior and had fought a horde the day before. Even his magic was a bit low for his preferences. He'd hoped to at least get some food and a semi-safe sleep in an alleyway.
He could run, he still had some magic, enough to teleport behind the knight and run. He could make it to the woods, probably, and from there he could get away faster than any Castle Town knight could catch him.
He inhaled carefully and did just that. Farore's Wind carried him behind the knight and he sprinted away, ignoring the yells for him to stop.
He wasn't going back to a cell anytime soon. He wasn't ready for that. He needed to take the time to at least come to terms with the events of the last time he'd been in one and not shove those memories as far down as he could before he let himself end up in one again. He would not be able to handle being anywhere near a cell again.
He ran into the wilderness, breathing heavily.
A branch snapped and he barely dodged a spear thrown at him.
Letting out a string of colorful Subrosian curses, Legend flicked out his knife and engaged with the incidental ambush. There were six--actually--seven of them, and as he fought them, they weren't dying. Black blood trickled from every wound he inflicted.
Another curse slipped out and he kept moving. He didn't want to risk any further damage to his magical core, and his magic was nearing low. If he depleted it further, not only would it take few days to replenish rather than the normal single day or two, it would also risk further damage to it.
He had to use Nayru's Love twice nonetheless, he managed to cut down two of the seven monsters, taking a deep gash to his side and a far shallower one to his leg. The remaining five were weakened, he could handle them but—not as he was. He was tired and sloppy. He'd fought that horde with Sky's Zelda —his ancestor, and he hadn't had time to fully process what that meant for him— and came out practically unscathed. That did not hold against these monsters, he was far too tired and drained from the prior fights, from his lack of any nutritional intake for a fair few days, and from running all day.
He heard a battle cry and he tore himself from the swinging reach of a moblin that tried to grab him.
He darted back in, twisting around and cutting clean through half of a thick throat. The monster screeched, finally killed and Legend felt something slam into his side. He was thrown into a tree, thankfully avoiding a new concussion, just definitely breaking a rib.
A bokoblin screeched above him. He blasted it with Din's Fire and, teetering into the zone of magical exhaustion, he dragged himself back up to the sounds of barked orders and clanging metal.
"Kid, hey look at me." Hands landed on his shoulders and he jerked away, tripping over his feet. "Whoa, slow down. I won't hurt you. Look, the monsters are gone. It's safe, I swear."
"Captain, he's armed."
"Did you think an unarmed child killed three monsters and injured another four?" The first voice snapped. "Come on, kid."
He could've forced himself to run, but frankly, he'd either have to comply or die, with the injuries and supplies he had. Plus, his body made the decision for him when it decided that his physical and magical exhaustion would finish dragging him into partial lucidity, his mind was too on high alert from the chases and the battles for him to lose consciousness but the exhaustion was enough for his body to collapse.
He was given a potion, both red and green, and he was fairly coherent when the medic set and wrapped the wounds that didn't heal with the red.
The medic left him and he heard them talking to someone.
"He's probably not as young as you think, I'd estimate middle to late teens, he has been malnourished most of his life which would account for the smaller stature. He has also experienced many wounds and not enough healing. There are scars from blades, claws, and teeth alike, as well as lightning. Whatever you do, Captain, be gentle... I imagine he hasn't had good experiences with anyone."
Legend almost rolled his eyes. He had to admit, the medic wasn't wrong, he gave a correct age range--which most people seemed to struggle with--and was dead on with the malnourishment, getting food was not easy while on adventures across countries and worlds, he also didn't always have access to proper healing supplies and had a stupid amount of scars as a result. And yeah, he'd had a bad experience with every single people group out there.
The man who entered was the same one who cornered Legend in the alleyway.
Legend tensed, he didn't have his knife, but the green potion did fix up his magic for the most part.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you," the guard captain said. "Can you tell me your name?"
He shut his mouth and kept his shut, glaring daggers at the man.
"Look, nobody here is going to hurt you, nothing bad's going to happen. I just want to help, but I can't do that if you don't work with me."
Legend gathered his bitterness and snarled. "I don't work with knights," he spat. "You're wasting your time. Either give me my knife back and let me go, or throw me in a damn cell so I can hurry up and escape."
The knight captain sighed heavily. "You don't want that."
"Want to get thrown into jail? No. But I'd rather that than be controlled by a damned knight," he declared through gritted teeth.
"Would you?" The knight captain challenged.
Yes. He'd rather be trapped in a cell and beaten and killed before he'd ever, ever, willingly be controlled —enslaved— by a soldier. There were a few exceptions, but only because Legend knew they wouldn't control him, the other heroes would never, even Warriors who was the most 'knightly' of the four actual soldiers in the group.
"I'd rather die," Legend snarled.
That clearly startled the man.
Legend then gave a feral grin. "Except I know the goddesses aren't quite done with me, so I don't think it'll be me who dies in that situation."
Guard captain successfully disturbed. Legend leaned back, drew flames to his fingers, the green potion having given plenty of magical restoration, and he hovered his hand above the soft, flammable bed he'd been put on.
"So give me my knife back and let me go, and we won't have to find out whether or not the goddesses are done with me... or you."
"Okay, okay!" The captain looked at his hand with clear fear. "Don't be hasty. Just— Answer some of my questions, that's all I ask. Then you can go free."
Legend rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, letting the fire fizzle and fade. "Fine."
"And you have to tell the truth."
He nodded.
"Who are you?"
Legend almost grinned. That was the perfect question.
"My name is Link," Legend revealed, "however it might actually be Link Hyrule, as according to the founding Queen of Hyrule, Hylia herself, says I'm her descendant, and then in the future of today's time, Queen Zelda says I have the same magical signature as her son. But we both know that son isn't me because she's from a different timeline."
"... S'cuse me?"
Legend actually grinned. "Are you asking me to repeat or elaborate? Because if I elaborate to the point of comprehension we're going to be here all night."
"Elaborate?"
His grin turned just a bit feral. Look he was not the Castle Town Prince his blood apparently said he was, he was from a farm and raised by a sword on the natural roads of Hyrule.
"Well--See, a few weeks back I fell through a portal and ended up meeting Queen Zelda and I'm from the future, but she's from my past and an alternate timeline where the Fallen Hero in my time didn't die to Ganondorf. She said that my magical signature is the same as her two-year-old son's. Now magical signatures cannot be the same between two different people unless they're the exact same person. Following?"
"No."
"Great. So then I time-traveled all the way to the very beginning of Hyrule, then I met the Queen who founded Hyrule, Zelda. Except she is actually the goddess Hylia reincarnated as a mortal and so she had really powerful magic and she said that, even if I thought otherwise, she could tell that my blood was in some part hers. In other words, the goddess herself told me I was her descendant and she was also the first queen of Hyrule, meaning that I'm technically of the royal bloodline. Maybe fairly removed but still of the bloodline because the royal bloodline is the goddess's bloodline and I'm of the goddess's bloodline. It makes things really weird since my best friend is the Queen Zelda of my time and she never mentioned having a long-lost little brother so... I'm not sure how to tell her but you can't really argue truth with the goddess of light and that's also two really powerful women who said I'm a prince."
The guard captain looked mildly horrified and extremely concerned.
"Mason!" He called. "I think he hit his head!"
Legend snorted. There it is.
The medic poked his head in. "Smith—What's with you and insane blond kids?"
Captain Smith apparently, scoffed and glared mildly. "I've told you a dozen times; Link isn't insane."
"The kid is so saturated with magic he's gone insane, he hears voices, Captain."
Legend froze. His eyes narrowed at the man, Smith, but mainly the medic.
"Sorry," he began through gritted teeth, "I could've sworn you said Link, voices, and insane... Surely you don't mean the Heroes of the Four Sword?"
The men both tensed, Captain Smith became a bit on guard and clearly defensive.
"And if we do?" He asked a bit warily.
Legend was already on his feet, forming a fireball in his hand, and not releasing Din's Fire as he grabbed the medic's collar and held the fire to his face.
"I don't care who you think you are, but Link has gone through too much for you bastardized cowards to call him insane. All four of them will be legends for centuries to come. You call them insane one more time and I'll give you a reason to be insane yourself."
The genuine fear was worth the possible crime. The guard captain had drawn his sword but only raised it.
"They are not voices, they are their own people and you will treat them like it. Even if they don't or can't separate. Do you understand me?" The medic flinched when the flame came closer.
"We get it!"
"Put the fire down!"
Legend shoved the medic away. Standing up and keeping his hand enflamed.
"Who even are you?" The medic demanded. "We'd know our fellow knight a hell of a lot better than some thieving brat!"
He snarled. "I am a hero chosen by the goddesses, I am Farore's Champion of Courage, I killed Ganon four times over and I've wielded the entire Triforce three times. I will not let anyone speak ill of my fellow heroes be it their worst enemies or their fathers."
He glared at the guard captain and held up his left hand. A bit of magic had the Triforce of Courage on the back of his hand gleam brightly.
"Will you need a demonstration of my abilities, or will you pay your heroes the respect they deserve after saving your lives and sacrificing their childhoods?"
He took a small bit of pride in how they both proverbially fell to their knees and swore their improvement, of course, they didn't actually kneel, but it was a near thing.
Legend found himself walking out of the guard station with his knife back, hunger satiated as they'd given him a loaf of bread and milk before he left, and no bounty on his head
Huh... intimidation really does work.
He didn't make it a hundred yards from the village before another portal appeared. He rolled his eyes and strode through.
Next>>
#linked universe#lu legend#linkeduniverse#legend lu#fanfic#lu four#a thousand ways au#linked universe legend#linkeduniverse fanfiction#linked universe fanfic#lu fanfiction#prosie writes
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What if Palkia and Dialga are terrified of Paradox Ingo.
Hear me out.
They can't control his blipping at all.
And immediately the legendaries think about if he learns to control it.
He could kick them around through time and space. He is immune to them.
Plus, he can use moves. As a human.
He carries around an army of Pokemon most of the time (Ingo calls them his friends, the Legends do not trust this).
He isn't aging when hes not in his time.
This man is casually fucking the timeline over at least 300 times in his lifetime.
He could totally tear down the two of them if he got control of his Blipping.
Palkia and Dialga have only known fear after he first blipped.
Arceus is having a blast, because finally the kids are learning respect. May not know why the train guy has reached Peak timespace potential, or how to stop it, but it's funny. Maybe Arceus will give Ingo lessons someday (not about timespace, but like. Some random subject but without telling anyone else what the subject is).
Emmet casually has a human god for a brother.
Emmet also wants the legendaries to stop cowering behind him everytime Ingo shows up.
I dunno, I just think every god besides Arceus being terrified of Ingo is funny.
(Hoopa would like lessons, please.)
Oh believe me, anon. Dialga and Palkia might not be terrified of Ingo, but they do treat him like an unknown cryptid. When Akari first introduces them to her dad, they're just looking at him like. Hello. Excuse us. What the fuck is that.
(Ingo is not the least bit comforted that the gods of time and space themselves don't know what his deal is! I mean, he's kind of given up stressing about it, but that's definitely quite the moment for him!)
Arceus does not know what to make of Ingo either. They're not responsible for this. They're pretty sure. I think he would keep Ingo at an arm's length, rather than invite him in and teach him anything. He also gives Ingo the 'hey what the fuck are you' look when Akari brings him to Spear Pillar so they can both go home. All three of them take comfort in the fact that perhaps the blipping problem has fixed itself since he hasn't done so since arriving in Hisui...
...and then it starts back up again. Hm. What the fuck.
#asks#paradox au#I COULD come up with a reason why this happens but also#it is funnier to not have one I think#submas
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Play-pretend monsters (this time)
“Welcome!! Welcome to dark realms where only a few brave souls dare enter!” Eddie yells, making his voice echo across the Hellfire Club’s meeting room.
He puts a bit more theatrics to his voice than usual, because he’s nervous. Acting loud and dramatic is the best way he knows to convey confidence —fake it ‘till you make it, right?— and right now he needs all the courage he can muster to act cool around his three new friends.
There’s certainly a rush of excitement when he realizes that Nancy, Robin and Steve look far more scared right now, as they look at him behind the DM screen, than they were while exploring that cursed Upside Down land. There, Eddie had felt like a child, stepping into shoes way too big for his terrified little feet, but here? Here he is in his turf, and for once these brave monster-killing trio are the ones out of their depth.
“Please, do sit down,” he gestures with a hand to the table, while mentally going through his pre-game notes again.
They did the character building separately, sitting together at cafes or at the mall. He wasn’t sure which part had been more surprising: that they were okay being seen with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, that they each seemed to know exactly what they wanted to play as, or that two out of three of the meetings felt akin to a date.
“I’ve seen you shoot, you’re definitely a ranger,” he’d told Nancy Wheeler, as they sipped on too-sugary milkshakes at the recently re-built mall. “Though you could get the same effect with a spellcaster. A bookish wizard, maybe?”
But Nancy Wheeler, of course, had already done her research... judging by the heavy binder she slammed on the table between them.
“Actually, I asked Mike over the phone and he was telling me about the different classes he’s played before. We were talking about party build and how to best max my statistics, you know? Give us a better chance. Now, he says survival has been an issue when they play smaller parties, and I can see why. We need someone to soak damage in while also delivering it... I think I wanna, uh,” she’d checked her notes, “I wanna ‘tank’. I want to play a barbarian.”
Eddie’s eyebrows had shot up. He was about to ask something, but then Nancy’s expression had changed, from all-business to an unexpectedly giddy smile.
“I wanna hit stuff. Very hard.”
“You- you want to hit stuff,” he echoed.
“Yes!” She grinned. “I’m always shooting and staying back, and it’s so fucking frustrating... I want to get up close and hit the monster, just once.”
To anyone listening, it would be hard to understand that Wheeler wasn’t speaking of past games or fantasy... she spoke from real experiences. And she was so eager, that Eddie felt himself grinning back at her. “Then let’s get you raging.”
Nancy hadn’t been the only one pulling from real experience to create their new character.
Dustin and Eddie had long theorized about what class would fit Steve ‘the King’ Harrington best and had both landed on Paladin. They’d both seen the guy dive head first into fights time and time again to protect the party (a recurring thing, according to Dustin). He had a mean swing that only seemed to be missing a smite to be the stuff of legends. And the dude was a Lawful Good if Eddie’d ever seen one. So he was shocked when, after exposing all the choices before him, Steve had ceremoniously put a finger over the Cleric class.
“Cleric? You sure?”
“That’s the healer, right?”
Eddie had nodded, confused.
“Dude, don’t look at me like that! You know how fucked up you get when you’re fighting monsters or other people? That shit hurts. Believe me, as someone who has gotten the hell beaten out of him way too many times, and- and who’s definitely seen way too many people almost die around him... we’re gonna need a fucking healer.”
Hard to argue against that.
And then, there’d been Robin, who after much deliberation —loudly babbling about all the pros and cons of each class and race— had latched on to the Warlock with loud glee.
“I get to make a deal with something creepy!”
“Yeah!” Eddie’d laughed. “I mean, it can get dark and complicated, but that’s a sweet class.”
“Dude, it’s so perfect! I mean, have you seen all that crazy shit? Imagine if you could like- like harness it. Like Eleven! If I could do something powerful and crazy and amazing like that, I feel like I would be fucking unstoppable, you know? I mean, sure, I’ll sell my soul. It’s not like I’m going to heaven anyway-”
“What?” He’d tilted his head, before he even realized the word’d left his mouth. He wasn’t used to anyone other than him talking like that.
“Well- it’s just- you know, whatever religious bullshit,” Robin’d waved a hand, dismissively, though he’d recognized enough tension on her shoulders to let the subject drop. Whatever this was, it’s scared her nearly as much as Vecna, and he decided it was none of his business to push for it.
“So, you want to be a Warlock,” he said instead, giving her his best manic grin.
“Yes!” She’d jumped, a little too loudly for the comfort of the rest of the people at their coffeeshop. “Gimme those sweet sweet powers!”
And so, here they stand: probably the most unlikely group of people he’d ever Dungeon Mastered for.
He considers them quietly, as Nancy pulls out a huge bag of dice from her backpack (and he is, again, shocked by the weight she can so easily carry around in that thing).
“What? Where’d you get so many?” Robin gaps.
“Mike’s room,” Nancy smirks, in a way that makes it clear that she did not have her brothers permission to grab his stuff. Turns out this one is the rebellious Wheeler after all.
“Are you kidding me?” Steve pouts. “Why do you get to have so many? Henderson would barely let me borrow one set!” He produces a small fake-leather pouch, looking like a guy who definitely thinks size matters.
“I- I- I didn’t know we had to bring our own,” Robin shoots the other two a panicked look before her eyes meet Eddie’s, like a child about to get kicked out of the classroom for not doing the homework.
“It’s okay, you can have some of mine,” Nancy is prompt to intervene, ‘rescuing’ her friend with a handful of colorful die.
The light might be weird in here because Eddie could almost swear that Robin’s face looks as red as Nancy’s lipstick.
“How come she gets more than me?!” Steve whines, despondent.
He gets a flat look in return, but then Nancy smiles while dropping a bunch of dice in front of him, like a tiny skinny Santa Claus giving away presents in the middle of July. This time, Eddie is entirely sure the he did not imagine the boy’s burning-red blush.
Looking at the three of them, nervous and excited, like they haven’t all killed real monsters together and survived the most unimaginable horrors, acting just like a group of baby-geeks, Eddie feels a strong rush of affection wash over him, so strong it nearly makes his ears ring. Luckily, the low lights in here might hide it and save what’s left of his reputation. He takes a quick, private, deep breath to shake the nerves away before stepping in, chin raised and teeth bared with a feral smile:
“Shall we begin?”
#eddie munson#steve harrington#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#stranger things#sofia's nonsense#I realize this is very nitche but I don’t care#I want them all to play together#also they are def all Dating each other shhh
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Before Anything Else
“You counsel veterans all the time.”
“That’s different. This is… way outside my expertise.” Sam crossed his arms and followed Steve’s gaze down to the computer monitors.
James Buchanan Barnes sat unnervingly still and rigidly straight backed in the single chair of his holding cell. The two of them had spent the past two years on a man hunt. Sam could barely keep a grip on Steve’s sanity. There were weeks Steve would think he’d stumbled on a lead and take off without so much as a glance in Sam’s direction. Sam always caught up eventually, usually to a mopey Captain America wallowing at once again losing his best friend.
And yesterday, the elusive bastard had just up and turned himself in.
Maybe that wasn’t quite right. He’d turned up to Avengers’ Tower in New York and asked for Steve. Like a kid asking his buddy’s mom if he could come out and play. Tony had locked the tower down and gone full Iron Man. Not that it was necessary. Barnes didn’t put up a fight. He didn’t even bat an eye at the super suit. Nor did he resist being led down into Tony’s holding cells in sub-basement four.
Steve rubbed a hand over his prickly jaw and took a deep breath. “I don’t trust anyone else to do it, Sam.”
“You realize the man’s tried to kill me, oh, three? Four times? Maybe talking about his feelings with me isn’t the greatest plan you’ve ever come up with.”
Steve sighed and put his hands on his hips. “So skip the feelings bit for now. Just… ask him why he’s here.”
Sam leveled a stare at Steve who hadn’t broken his gaze at the monitors. “We know why he’s here.”
Steve shook his head. “He didn’t… he didn’t recognize me. He didn’t know who I was.”
That was it. Steve wasn’t volunteering himself because he was afraid. It was almost laughable. Steve Rogers would jump out of a plane without a parachute. He’d fight aliens and robots and Nazis without so much as a goosebump on his arm. But he was terrified to stand in front of his best friend again and be nobody to him.
“I’m sure Natasha’d love to give it a whirl. She’s better at interrogation.”
Steve cut a dangerous look Sam’s direction. “He’s not being interrogated.”
“Isn’t he?”
Steve sank into a chair in front of the monitors and put his head in his hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll do it myself. Just give me a minute to… think.”
Sam had grown up on Captain America stories. He was a legend, of course. And maybe Sam had painted a trash can lid to mimic his iconic shield when he was a boy. Didn’t everyone? Captain America was a giant. But sitting in the chair beside him, he looked small. He was just a person under all that serum. Even if it was easy to forget when he ran faster than the standard automobile and leapt from buildings without a second thought.
Sam patted Steve’s shoulder and took a deep breath. “No. I’ll go. Can’t promise anything good, but I’ll go.”
Steve looked up with warm gratitude. “Anything you can do, Sam.”
The walk to the elevator wasn’t nearly long enough. Sam was still trying to pick his words when the doors opened to the holding cells. Barnes was the sole occupant. The only other breathing being on the entire level. Sam’s footsteps echoed around him from the high, windowless walls.
Long tendrils of brown hair hung in front of Barnes’ face, obscuring him. He didn’t look up. Didn’t move or acknowledge Sam’s presence in the slightest. What little confidence he’d had on the way down waned. If it hadn’t been for Steve, the man would have killed him a dozen times over. Sam gritted his teeth and crossed his arms, irritation and indignation flooding through him. Easing his self-doubt.
“We’ve been looking for you.”
Nothing.
Sam stretched his back and jutted his chin forward. “Why run off if you were just going to come back?”
Not so much as a twitch.
“Stark said you asked for Steve, but he says you didn’t know who he was.”
Barnes lifted his head slowly and met Sam’s eyes with that icy stare of his. An involuntary chill trickled up Sam’s spine. Sam shifted his weight from foot to foot and sniffed in the cold air.
“Your last mission was to kill him. You here to see that through?”His eyes didn’t waver. Didn’t give anything away.
“See, if that’s the case, you’ve made the stupidest decision a world famous assassin could make. Pretty sure Stark’s got enough power in this room to turn you to dust. Won’t be completing any missions after that.”
Still nothing. Sam frowned and moved around the cell if only to get away from that steely gaze. Barnes didn’t let him go. His eyes tracked him now. Like a lion with its prey. Watching. Waiting. It was unnerving. Sam stopped back in front of the cell again.
“Do you even remember who I am?”
There was a small twitch to Barnes’ dark brows. Brief. A blink and you’ll miss it sort of reaction. He didn’t remember. Didn’t know Sam.
“I was in D.C.,” Sam offered. “I was on the bridge and the Triskellion.”
“Wings,” Barnes said to himself.
Sam nodded. “Look at that. He speaks.”
That icy stare was back the next second.
Sam swallowed hard. “Well, you remember me. What else do you remember?”
The man returned to his selective muteness. After an hour of attempting to goad the man into speech, Sam gave up and returned to the observation room.
“Give up?” Steve asked. He was staring at the monitors.
“Taking a break.” Sam grabbed a water out of the fridge and drained half in the next second.
“What do you think?”
Sam walked back through the last hour. The only time he’d gotten so much as a flick of the eyes was when he’d mentioned Steve. Sam drained the rest of his water and slouched in the chair beside Steve.
“Well, he’s definitely here for you.”
Steve nodded. Expression grim. Still, there was hope nestled in those eyes of his.
“If he’s really here to finish his mission, you gonna let him?”
Steve’s eyes moved back to the monitors. “If that’s what it takes.”
“What it takes to what?”
Steve bumped the first knuckle on his left index finger against the screen. “To free him.”
“You know that’s not a good way of thinking. You can’t really believe sacrificing yourself is going to solve anything.”
Steve brought his fist to his mouth. His stare went far and away. “It’s Bucky.”
Sam turned in for the night and started back the following morning. He could tell Steve hadn’t left the observation room. He likely hadn’t left the chair. But neither had Barnes. They were two peas in a pod even if one was trying to kill the other. The similarities unsettled Sam even more.
“Breakfast,” Sam offered, pushing the tray through the little door in the wall and leaving it to sit on the table.
Barnes didn’t move. He must’ve been starving, but he didn’t go for the food like Sam thought he would. He just sat and stared at the floor.
“Do you like being caged up?” Sam asked. A rhetorical question. Of course he didn’t. Nobody did. “Maybe you do. Why wouldn’t you try to convince us to let you out otherwise?”
Sam crossed his arms and paced around the cell.
“Right now, there are two ways you’re getting out of that cell. Dead or alive.”
No reaction as per usual. Threats did nothing. What the fuck did HYDRA do to him? He didn’t care if he lived or died.
“Steve’s willing to sacrifice himself if it means you get out from under HYDRA’s boot, you know. Not that it’ll end well for you if you do kill him. Boy’s got demi-gods on his team. They won’t feel too kindly about you killing their friend.”
Barnes blinked and squinted for moment. He turned his head, tilting slightly. Listening.
“Steve’s not thinking that far ahead. He’s thinking about you. Eating himself up about it.”
Sam stopped pacing again. Barnes stared down at the floor. A strange look had settled over his face. Not the intimidating blank stare. Something different.
“You see why we can’t just send him down here to talk to you. Not if you’re out to kill him. He’ll let you. I can’t let that happen.”
Barnes scoffed and leaned back.
Sam braced himself. This was new.
“Something funny?”
Barnes leveled his eyes at Sam again. “Did he tell you that?”
“What?” It was Sam’s turn to be confused.
“He’s gonna let me kill him. He say that?”
Sam pressed his lips together, wondering if he’d just given away something he shouldn’t have.
“Is that so hard to believe? He almost let you kill him in D.C.. If the plane hadn’t crumbled out from beneath you, you would’ve succeeded.”
Barnes’ eyes narrowed. “He told you that?”
“Didn’t have to. I sat by his bedside while he recovered.” At least it was finally what some could call a conversation.
Barnes turned his eyes to the far wall and set his jaw. If Sam didn’t know any better, he’d say he was… pouting.
“You have a different side of the story?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Barnes turned his eyes back to Sam and took a deep breath. He stood and Sam took an involuntary step back. Barnes smirked and stepped over to the table where his breakfast sat cooling. He picked up a strip of bacon and ate it in two bites. He paused and stared at the table as he swallowed. Like he was waiting to see if the food would settle. After a second or two, he moved on to the eggs.
They hadn’t given him utensils. Too worried he might fashion them into weapons. He was HYDRA trained after all. What couldn’t he do with a couple of sharp bits of metal or plastic. Barnes ate with his hands unperturbed. It was a little disgusting to watch, but Sam waited. They were actually having a conversation. He didn’t want to break whatever rapport they had built.
It was fruitless. Barnes finished eating and went mute again. Sam continued to try to bring the conversation back around for more than an hour before giving up for the morning and retreating.
Natasha was in the observation room when Sam got there. The monitors had been turned off. It took quite a bit of pressure from both of them before Steve finally followed them out of the room and up to the living area of the tower.
“I didn’t figure you’d be the one to give a serial killer your home address,” Tony quipped as they settled in for a late lunch.
“I didn’t have to,” Steve replied. “Someone doesn’t understand the meaning of discretion.”
Tony sneered and plopped down at the head of the table. “You’re certainly enjoying the spoils of the pompous.”
“You have my best friend in your basement.”
Tony looked over at Natasha. “The one that tried to kill you? Yeah. Sorry. Should’ve just let you punch your way out of this one, too.”
“Boys,” Natasha warned. “Why don’t you both just let Sam do his thing. He’s been making progress.” She turned those dark eyes on him. “Haven’t you?”
Sam shrugged. “Couldn’t say. Boy’s cagey. He’s only said a handful of things to me. I can’t really get much of a read on him.”
Natasha smiled. “Of course you can’t. He’s HYDRA trained. You’re probably answering all his questions all on your own. He doesn’t have to say a word.”
Sam frowned down at his grilled cheese. If anyone would know, it’d be the Black Widow. She was a master in interrogation. He’d seen up close and personal just how good she’d been at getting the intel she wanted. And Barnes was from the same organization. They ran in similar circles. Were trained by them.
Sam decided to take a page from Natasha’s book when he went down to the cells that night. The two stood in silence for an hour and a half before Sam retreated for the night. This went on for two more days. Sam was on the verge of breaking. Finding a different tactic. Of course the silent treatment wasn’t working on the world’s leading expert on the subject.
He was thinking of a way to rebreak the ice when the silence was broken. Sam jerked in surprise.
“I knew him.” Barnes said head ducked and hair dangling over his face.
Sam’s eyes darted up to the nearest camera before he could stop himself. “You knew Steve?”
“I knew him before I knew me. I was still nothing. Just a big, blank space where a person should be. I think I have some of it now. I can’t be sure. Not yet. But before I was anything else, I was his.”
Sam stilled. “His?”
Barnes turned his eyes up to the camera Sam had just looked at. “Yours.”
Sam looked between Barnes and the camera. He began to back toward the elevator when it opened. Sam turned to look up at Steve, but his eyes had found their focus across the room. He crossed to the cell. Barnes was on his feet.
“I should’ve jumped,” Steve whispered.
If the room hadn’t been so large and empty, Sam wouldn’t have heard.
“You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”
“How can you say that? How can you think-?”
Barnes’ eyes cut over to Sam. Steve turned and met Sam’s eyes for the first time in days.
“I can take over, Sam. Go rest.”
Sam nodded and stepped into the elevator. He should’ve gone up to the main tower. He didn’t. He found himself in the observation room. His and Steve’s positions reversed. There was nowhere to hide in the holding cells. Cameras spanned the entire floor. There were no blind spots.
“I read about what happened after,” Barnes said. He was much more talkative with Steve. No long stretches where he wouldn’t speak. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I followed you into war, it was only fair I followed you out of it.”
A smile twitched at the corners of Barnes’ mouth. If the quality weren’t so high, Sam might’ve thought it was a glitch of the cameras.
“Sap.”
“Jerk.”
“Punk.”
Steve laid his hand on the key panel and tapped in a quick code. The doors to the cell slid back. Barnes frowned.
“You sure you wanna do that?” Barnes asked. “I might kill you.”
Steve smiled. “Like you haven’t had a million chances.” He stepped into the cell toward Barnes.
“Not here.” Barnes set a hand on Steve’s chest. His eyes found each camera in a second.
“Here. Anywhere. Anywhere,” Steve whispered. He was pressing in. Crowding Barnes and Barnes wasn’t resisting. Wasn’t shoving him away and demanding space. He was inviting him in.
“How ‘bout a dance?” Barnes suggested, tilting his head up just slightly to meet Steve’s eyes.
Their hands were around each other in the next moment. They swayed in the small space of the cell. Steve’s head dropped onto Barnes’ shoulder. He was humming. They both were. The same song. Sam couldn’t place it.
“How much of it do you remember?” Steve asked as their swaying slowed.
“Hard to say.” They stopped swaying. Just stood, holding each other. “I’ve been writing it down. What I remember. I can’t always tell dream from memory. I was hoping you could help me with that.”
“Yeah,” Steve’s hand cupped the back of Barnes’ neck. Fingers threaded through the long hair. “It’s been a long, long time after all.”
Barnes smiled and bent his head to Steve’s. He murmured something too quiet for even the Stark tech microphones to pick up. Steve grinned and lifted his head.
“You know, the ol’ Steve Rogers’ motto,” Barnes laughed.
Steve was clearly trying to scowl, but his smile wouldn’t go away long enough.
“If it ain’t illegal, it ain’t worth doin’.” Barnes finished.
Steve laughed. “I think I can make an exception.”
They started out of the cell together. Barnes’ face dropped for a moment as they crossed the doorway. He stuttered and jerked to a stop. He squeezed his eyes shut and put a hand to his head. Steve set a hand gently on his shoulder, the other on his waist.
“We’re going to find your journal, aren’t we?” Steve urged.
Bucky’s eyes focused again on Steve’s face. After another two seconds, his expression relaxed again and allowed Steve to lead him to the elevator.
The room was filled with silence as the monitors relayed the empty room back to Sam. He sat dumbfounded at his discovery, not sure what to do with it.
“Well, that explains a few things.” Natasha remarked behind him.
Sam jumped in his seat and whirled around. “How long have you been there?”
Natasha lifted a shoulder in non-answer. She pulled out her phone to fire out a quick text as she sauntered toward the monitors. Her finger flew over the keys swiftly, switching out the cameras. It took her half a second to find Steve and Barnes again.
“No wonder he rejected all those girls I threw at him,” she mumbled.
Steve’s hand was on Bucky’s right elbow. Not in a restraining way. He wasn’t holding Barnes back or trying to keep him from leaving. It was the way someone might hold on to a lover in a crowd. A way to keep from being separated. From losing the other.
“Well, that wasn’t in the comic books,” Sam muttered.
Natasha smirked at him. “’Course not. That’s not the All-American ideal they wanted. I’m sure if you went back and read some of those histories you’d see it.” Natasha pulled up the cameras outside the tower. “I should’ve seen it sooner.”
Sam watched them jog down into the subway and leaned back in his chair, sure they’d lost them. Natasha didn’t blinked. The footage inside the metro station played back. Not busy this time of day. Barnes leaned in to Steve’s shoulder. His mouth was moving, but there were no microphones there. Sam didn’t know what was being said. Steve grinned and rolled his eyes.
He looked strange. Or just different. Steve’s shoulders weren’t so tight. He leaned back toward Barnes casually. It took a while for Sam to realize that this is what Steve Rogers looked like when he relaxed. Whatever else he thought he knew about Steve seemed wrong. He was friendly and had his easy going days, but he had never actually relaxed. Not even when it was just him and Sam lounging on a couch in the tower.
“N train to Brooklyn,” Natasha said. “Keep an eye on the stations. Let us know which one they get out on.”
Sam looked up. “What? You’re going after them?”
Natasha looked annoyed. “He’s still the Winter Soldier.”
Sam looked back at the monitors. “Look, maybe that’s-”
“Relax, Sam. We’re just keeping an eye out. HYDRA is still out there. Be a shame if they cut this little reunion short by trying to get their prized asset back.”
Sam watched the stations until he saw the two get off the train. He dialed Natasha’s number. He didn’t want to tell them. Steve deserved some privacy. He deserved some peace. But Natasha was right.
“Prospect Park.”
“Perfect timing. We’re pulling in now.”
Sam tapped through the security cameras. Stark had backdoor access to every CCTV camera in the city. Likely the world. He was able to follow the two from the station and into the park.
As they got deeper into the park, Steve’s hand slid down from Barnes’ elbow to his hand. Barnes stilled for a moment, meeting Steve’s eyes.
Steve’s mouth moved and Sam wished he’d learned how to read lips. Barnes shook his head and looked around. The park was mostly empty. It was almost dark. The lights were just starting to come on.
Barnes set his left hand on Steve’s chest and pushed him back. Sam’s hand twitched toward his phone again. Barnes pushed until Steve’s back hit a tree and they stood there, noses almost touching. Staring at each other. They hadn’t done much, but their chests were heaving like they’d just run a marathon.
Steve leaned forward until his cheek was pressed against Barnes’ cheek. His lips at Barnes’ ear. Whatever was said made Barnes react. He gripped Steve’s shirt in both hands and shoved him back again. Steve had a lazy sort of smile on his face. Cocky. He looked down his nose at Barnes almost challenging him.
Seventy years of anguish rippled and melted away from them both as Barnes crushed his mouth to Steve’s. Sam felt heat in his cheeks and looked away. His phone vibrated against the metal of the counter. He answered without looking if only for something to do.
“Where are they?”
Sam covered his eyes with his free hand. “Just give them a minute.”
“I told you, we aren’t planning on separating them. We just want to keep an eye out. You know Rogers isn’t going to keep his guard up.”
“Mm.” Sam glanced back at the monitor. “Yeah, but….”
The line was quiet a beat. “They aren’t fucking in the park, are they?”
The heat in Sam’s face grew hotter. “No.”
“Oh, hang on. Clint found them.”
Sam dropped his head onto the table.
“I didn’t think Steve could do that.” She said, mostly to herself.
Clint Barton’s muffled voice made its way through her comms to Sam. “Jealous?”
“No. Maybe a little. He was holding out on me.”
“Privacy means nothing to you, does it?” Sam demanded.
Natasha barked out a short laugh. “I’m a spy.”
“Uh oh.”
“What are you doing here?” Steve demanded.
“Wow! Steve? Fancy running into you here!” Clint tried.
“You took a world famous assassin out of his cage.” Natasha said. “We’re here to make sure he gets back in it.”
“He’s not going in any cage.”
“It was hyperbole.”
“It isn’t happening.”
“Didn’t I shoot you?” Barnes’ voice crackled.
Sam turned back to the monitors. They were standing a few feet apart. Steve between Clint and Natasha and Barnes. Natasha narrowed her eyes at him.
“Twice.”
Barnes pulled a frown. “Must’ve liked you.”
“As target practice?”
Barnes shook his head. “I could’ve killed you the first time.” He glanced over at Steve who was giving him a hard look. “I didn’t!”
“Sorry, Buck. Say you’re sorry.”
He set his jaw. “She tried to kill me, too.”
“Yeah, but you drew blood.
Barnes winced. “Yeah. Yeah, alright. Sorry.”
Natasha shrugged. “Clint tried to kill me, too. I’m still friends with him.”
“I was brainwashed!”
“HYDRA?”
Clint furrowed his brow. “Loki.”
Barnes looked at Steve. “What’s Loki?”
“A god. Or so he claims.”
Barnes’ face went slack. “Aw, man. I really am turning into you!”
“What?”
“Now you’re the one having all the fun without me.”
Steve smiled. Sam didn’t think that smile was real. He’d only seen it in the old Howling Commandos footage. It was he only time Steve had smiled like that. He only smiled like that with Sergeant Barnes.
Natasha noticed it the same time Sam did. “It wasn’t the lip ring, was it?”
“Hm?”
“Lillian? You said you weren’t ready for the lip piercing, but that wasn’t it.”
Steve stared at her blank faced.
“C’mon, Steve,” Barnes pinched the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt between his fingers and tugged lightly. His eyes darted back and forth between Steve and Natasha. “It isn’t far.”
Steve nodded and followed Barnes further into the park. Clint and Natasha walked behind them. All that easiness and relaxation from earlier was gone. They were both on high alert.
Barnes stopped at a tree and looked around again. His eyes landed on Clint and Natasha for a moment before flying back to Steve’s. There were no words spoken between them, but they communicated just the same. The way only two people that knew each other unerringly could. Steve turned and blocked Bucky from view while turning his right index finger in the air, ordering them to turn around.
Barnes shoved his arm into a knot in the tree and withdrew a small, black backpack. He tucked his arms through the straps and tapped Steve on the shoulder.
“Where to?” Clint asked.
“What? So you can follow us?”
“Just come back to the tower.” Natasha said. “It’s safest for you both. HYDRA’ll have a hell of a time trying to get to Barnes there.”
Steve looked back at Barnes. Another moment of silent communication passed before Steve dropped his head and nodded. “Fine. But he isn’t going back in that cell.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
It was another hour before the four of them returned to the tower. Natasha had turned off her comms as soon as they reached the car so Sam had gone back up to the living quarters. As talkative as he had been when it was just him and Steve, Barnes had become mute once again when surrounded by strangers.
“Two years, man,” Sam said once he’d gotten Steve alone again.
Steve tensed. “I know.”
“I knew there was something. I thought it was guilt.”
Steve nodded. “Of course it was guilt. I abandoned him. Let him get captured by the enemy again. Of course I feel guilty.”
“You don’t think the fact you’re in love with the man played a role in the past two years?”
Steve swallowed hard and refused to meet Sam’s eyes. “If it’s too much….”
“What?”
“I get it. It’s legal now, but people are still what they always were.”
Sam shook his head and set a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “No, man. I’m not talking like that. I’m just saying. Maybe if I’d known the real why’s of it all, I could’ve helped better. Been a better friend.”
Steve cracked a smile, but Sam knew better now. This smile was a peace offering. Only Barnes was lucky enough to get the genuine article. Steve patted Sam’s back lightly.
“You’ve always been a good friend. Not many people I can say that about.”
Barnes snuck into the room and fixed himself on Steve’s left. They weren’t touching, but the action still felt intimate. Maybe it was just because he’d seen them tongue wrestling in the park.
“Sorry,” Barnes said. “About…. I wasn’t trying to kill you. Just getting you out of the way.”
Sam pulled three beers out of the fridge and handed them out. “Felt like you were.”
Barnes reached over with his left hand and popped the tops off each of their bottles. “I would’ve. If I had to.” He took a sip of his beer. “I held back too much on the bridge.”
“That was you holding back?”
Barnes ducked his head. “Steve said, ‘Bucky,’ and I couldn’t shake the feeling I was on the wrong side after. They didn’t like that.”
Steve loped an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and squeezed. “We’ll get ‘em.”
“You know where the bases are?” Sam asked.
Barnes looked over at Steve. “A few.”
“That’s all we need.”
Barnes shook his head. “I’ve been working through them on my own.”
“And now you’ll have backup.”
“It’s risky.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Well, that seals it. No HYDRA hunt for me. I hate taking risks.”
Barnes needled him in the ribs with his left elbow. “I think the fact that you’re stubborn and love risking your skin are the two things I never forgot.”
Steve put his lips to Barnes’ ear. “Then there are some things I need to remind you of.”
Sam felt like an unwitting audience. Steve and Barnes had all but forgotten his presence. They had gone from not touching to being glued to one anothers hips. Sam cleared his throat and they both pulled back.
“Sorry,” Steve said, sheepishly. “Believe it or not, we never engaged in public displays of affection seventy years ago.”
“The solace of a cold grave really makes you reconsider the weight you give to other peoples’ opinions.” Barnes said, that challenging stare back in his icy eyes.
“I bet the pair of you would’ve loved Stonewall.”
Steve smiled easily. So Barnes wasn’t the outlet for Steve’s genuine smiles. He was the source.
“I’m just glad we got back when we did.”
Sam tipped his beer to them and turned to take his leave. He could hear them behind him.
“We still have a lot of work to do.”
“Not tonight, Buck,” Steve said, softly. “We can take it easy. Just for tonight.”
The way he said it made it clear. This was an old conversation. Probably a conversation they had been having even before the war. Their whole lives. With any luck, they’d be having it for another seventy years.
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-Ideas and Background for my AU While I Get Over Art Block-
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Ingo got a concussion on his way down into The Underground. Due to him moving in just the right way at the exact right time, he would have died instantly instead of having gotten a concussion bad enough to cause amnesia but not bad enough to have permanent damage. The bleeding is easily fixable with healing magic, and the blood loss is fixable by plenty of rest and fluids. He's hurt, but the worst part is just the Amnesia. This is also a universe where this is happening instead of Legends Arceus. I haven't decided yet, but I may have some characters from PLA make an appearance as monsters if I really feel like it.
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Ingo does not have his Pokémon with him. The inexplicable desire to climb up Mt Ebott did not tell him to grab his pokéballs first.
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Toriel is nowhere near as protective of Ingo as she is of anyone else who has fallen, as he is in fact an adult. However, she still finds it her responsibility to keep him from fucking dying and still requests "her friend" makes sure he doesn't fall down another hole somewhere and split his head open further.
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Ingo doesn't quite remember exactly what a Pokémon is, but he just assumes "Pokémon" is just another word for "Monster". It's technically short for "Pocket Monster", so he's kind of right? In a way? Technically? It's complicated.
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Pokémon in this world are what happens when you splice normal animal DNA with Monster Dust. The final evolutions of the first evolving Pokémon are named after the Monsters they originated from, since they resembled their Monster a lot more than expected with just enough key differences to be uncanny. The exceptions to this are Wyrdeer, Kleavor, Overqwil, Ursaluna, Basculegion, and Sneasler. This is due to them being far too dangerous and entirely untamable. While the evolutions of Stantler, Qwilfish, Ursaring, and Basculin were completely discarded for safety reasons, the Pokémon Scizor and Weavile were created as viable alternatives. As for the type and appearance changes for all Pokémon that did stay, these changes were made so to make the Pokémon easier to domesticate. As for the Legendary Pokémon, most of them are not actually Pokémon at all. They are straight-up gods that are only called Pokémon because they’re strange and unexplainable beings that seem animal enough to classify as Pokémon, which at this point have essentially killed off all Non-Pokémon and replaced their places in ecosystems, obviously causing an ecological restructuring so severe and catastrophic that the world almost entirely fucking died.
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Arceus created all, including Monsters and Humans. It saw the Humans trying to wipe out the Monsters using twisted amalgamations of creatures that were once normal animals now mixed with the power and looks of the very Monsters they were created to slaughter, so it hid the remaining Monsters underground and sealed them away so they wouldn’t completely die out. Giratina was outraged by this, as it sided with the Monsters and believed Humans should be the ones trapped underground. Arceus tried to explain to Giratina that Humans have an actual biological need for sunlight while Monsters can more easily adapt to anything, but Giratina declared that maybe Humans should just shut up and die off then and accused Arceus of favoring Humans over Monsters. Enraged by the threat to Humanity and terrified of the consequences of not taking Giratina’s threats seriously, Arceus stripped Giratina of most of its godly powers and sealed it underground as well, inside a sort of prison two miles below the lowest spot of The Underground in which Monsters dwelled. Arceus did not in fact favor Humans over Monsters, it was merely trying to protect and preserve both races. It did, however, cause a couple catastrophic floods in its anger over Humanity essentially wiping out all the normal animals in favor of the horrifying murderous abominations they created from the corpses of Monsters and the poor innocent animals they used as bases. During the floods, it managed to find the last species of normal creatures and gifted them the ability to use just enough magic to survive, as well as the ability to evolve once into an incredibly powerful creature that would occasionally wreak vengeance upon Humans that strayed too far. The magic severely altered the creature’s appearance, but at least it made it safe. The creature in question was the Amur Carp Koi, which was altered into the Magikarp we know today.
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Most Monsters have some sort of idea of who Arceus is, though there are of course mixed feelings about it. Some Monsters think Arceus locked away all Monsterkind in The Underground because it was angry at Monsters for daring to do battle with its “favored Humans”, and some of that group even believe it was Arceus that supplied Humans with their “secret weapons of unimaginable power” (Pokémon). Most of the other Monsters that know anything about Arceus believe that it brought them into The Underground not to imprison them, but to protect them. The few that know about Giratina believe Arceus is either a jealous and jaded god or that Arceus is well-meaning but really fucking stupid.
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Frisk does indeed exist, but they come in much later. At the time of Ingo falling in, Frisk is only 2. At the time of Frisk entering The Underground, they are 7. Any other Humans (or Pokémon) falling in would arrive after that. In addition, Ingo is 30 when he falls and 35 when Frisk arrives.
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Ingo’s identity as a Human is not widespread information. It is believed that the amnesiac adult human that had fallen into The Underground had died and his Soul was accidentally destroyed in the process of his death. Regardless, the Monsters that know he is in fact alive and Human still try to help him remember his life before The Underground so that he doesn’t die without remembering that which is most important to him. His Kindness to those around him has earned him that much respect and trust at the very least, and at the very most it has earned him a couple friends genuinely trying to find a way to get him through The Barrier so he can see and remember his home again.
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Ingo has not explored the entirety of The Underground. This is in part because he is trying his best to lay low, and partially because he has over the past few years made enough friends and enough connections that he feels he has an important enough roll that leaving would cause a vacuum, despite this very much not being the case and The Underground being small enough that you could walk end to end to and from across the entirety of The Underground in only about half a day (using IRL Logic instead of Game Logic). However, despite this ease in travel already, to help avoid congestion as well as make it easier in general to travel between areas, Ingo had given the idea for and helped in the creation of a train service that passed through tunnels dug just below the busiest parts of The Underground. Now instead of taking several hours to go from one end of The Underground to the other, it allowed Monsters to reach their destinations in minutes. The digging for the Subways also gave way to the idea of digging to make space in the rest of the Underground to make space for more Monsters, dumping the displaced rock in unusable areas to level them out and make them safe enough to be able to use them for housing as well.
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Undyne is constantly suspicious of Ingo, but for all the wrong reasons reaching to all the wrong conclusions.
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Despite Ingo being an Adult Human, Lady Sneasler (the distant descendant of the original Sneasler whose dust was used to create Sneasel, as the name is hereditary and passed down mother to daughter) acts as if he is her own child. There have been multiple times in which Ingo has politely requested she stop treating him as if he were a child (he is thankful for the hospitality, but he can really do without the coddling), to which she has replied with informing him that the day he stops wearing stripes, she will treat him like he is an adult. Until the day Ingo stops wearing his striped conductor coat (which will be the same day The Core freezes over), he will be Lady Sneasler’s precious little baby meow meow.
#ns:tu#Next Stop: The Underground#pokémon#pokemon ingo#ingo pkmn#pokemon#undertale#text post#pla#PLA spoilers#pokemon x undertale au#sorry for the delay#i'm going to try to have some more art out by the end of the week
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I'm sorry. I literally can't stop thinking about What A Mind-gate. Is she just paying tribute to Paul? Is she deeply invested in the idea that her and Joe's relationship parallels Paul and Linda's? Did she become invested in this idea after she and Stella became friends, or did she always romanticize Paul and Linda's relationship (she is probably just old enough to really remember Linda dying, assuming she was paying attention to music news or classic rock radio)? You've been talking about how Midnights is more John-coded, and I agree, but does Taylor see herself as more Paul-coded? Or is she just casting around for anyone (or any musician) who understands her level of uber-famous, pretty much guaranteed to be a legend status? Did she just like the poem and it's not that deep? What other obscure poetry has she referenced?
I need this knowledge to move outside the small swiftle tumblr bubble, it's eating my brain.
So many questions in this ask lol, many of which keep me up as well.
Is she just paying tribute to Paul? -> THE question tbh.
Is she deeply invested in the idea that her and Joe's relationship parallels Paul and Linda's? -> I actually lowkey believe this. Exhibit A:
+ It actually wouldn't require a lot of research for her to see the other parallels and I think she's actually someone who relates most things to her own life (not in a narcissistic way, it's just how she processes things, I think).
3. Did she become invested in this idea after she and Stella became friends, or did she always romanticize Paul and Linda's relationship (she is probably just old enough to really remember Linda dying, assuming she was paying attention to music news or classic rock radio)? -> I would say Exhibit A indicates talking to Stella had a part in this. I have no clue how invested Taylor was in Paul McCartney, let alone his private life, when she was eight years old, though.
4. You've been talking about how Midnights is more John-coded, and I agree, but does Taylor see herself as more Paul-coded? -> I mean, I highly doubt Taylor thinks in the John-coded/Paul-coded binary anyways. I think she first and foremost admires Paul for his generosity. She's multiple times expressed that she thinks it's very cool that he continues to play songs like Hey Jude live, thinking about the fan who has one chance to see him in concert rather than himself who has to play it thousands of times, while neglecting a lot of his lesser known gems. That, plus his ability to balance his private life with the upper heights of fame. I think to her, he's primarily a career role model. (I mean maybe she's deep deep into Beatles lore I just wouldn't be able to substantiate that claim past the fact that she does seem to be into celebrity memoirs and has read Pattie's book)
I also think she's never limited herself to music that is completely in line with her own personality so I don't think that would affect her enjoying Paul's work either way. I'd say her music taste is vastly more diverse than my own tbh.
I don't really know whether she likes John, chances are she finds parts of his history repulsive (which I wouldn't blame her for), though I also think she probably empathizes with him to an extent that's possibly difficult for non-uber celebrities to fully understand. Either way, I'm sure his story is mostly… very terrifying to her? In many ways John is the star you Don't Want To Become. As someone who's had stalkers break into her home multiple times, I could see it not being good for her mental health to compare herself too much to someone who was essentially killed for being too famous.
5. Or is she just casting around for anyone (or any musician) who understands her level of uber-famous, pretty much guaranteed to be a legend status? She's twice done this with Beatles-related people (Pattie and Paul) but she does also seem fascinated by characters such as Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. So I don't think it's a question of either/or tbh.
6. Did she just like the poem and it's not that deep? -> Actually, I think if she did intentionally make a reference, it's probably sort of deep. Not like SUPER deep, I don't think any of what I talked about above is like crazy. But I do think it would be purposeful (don't however think it would be some easter egg hinting at some future project though)
7. What other obscure poetry has she referenced? other thing that keeps me up at night. I do know that the opening line of ivy is a reference to a poem, though.
But yes, I need this information out in the world. I need someone to ask her about this it's driving me nutttttttts
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If the boys were in httyd, what dragons would they have? :)
*shrieks*
You could not possibly have better appealed to my inner fan. Combining my two major fandoms into one? Yissssssssss
Note: I will not solely be using dragons from the movies, but cannot reference books because I could never actually read them.
Okay! So! I would like to start out with Ravio. Yes, Ravio isn't technically one of the boys, but who really cares?
Smokebreaths. Ravio would have Smothering Smokebreaths, and they 100% steal all Legend's items for him (he exchanges their finds for metal for their nests, if only to avoid being made roast rabbit).
Meanwhile, I see Legend with...hmmm...lemme put a hold on him actually, he's tricky
Warriors would one hundred percent have a Sharp Class dragon, and I'm leaning towards a Razorwhip. They're fiercely loyal and both strong and agile. They're dragons fully capable of combat, but they're also very kind and curious outside of it. It suits him. Were he to actually have a dragon, I imagine he'd be assigned to work with it by the Crown and they just- bonded. I know you only asked what dragons, but I'd like to go on and say he and his dragon would have a partnership more akin to Astrid and Stormfly's: they're real close and caring with each other, but in battle they work not as a singular unit, but as a terrifying duo.
Time is more Stormcutter vibes I think. Like, maybe it's the faces Cloudjumper makes and the way he handles smaller, younger, more annoying dragons, but if Cloudjumper is a accurate representation of his species as a whole, I'd say they're a good fit. Capable of great tenderness, but with a face and form that really makes you wonder if they will or will not kill you. Stormcutters also have a somewhat owlish vibe, which ties in well to how JoJo originally had Time with an owl companion in LU. Stormcutters are loyal to death and mostly solitary, but can exist with other dragons when needed (especially, I'd assume, if that other dragon is their mate). They're capable, terrifying, strong, patient and capable of great mischief, perfectly compatible with one Gremlin Forest Hero.
Now, Twilight had me a bit stumped. See, a Boulder Class is just 100% wrong for him. He'd need a partner that's intelligent, strong, fast, and loyal. Now, technically, that's a Strike Class dragon to a tee, but the Strike Class is really small, like: nightfury, lightfury, skrill, snow wraith, deathgripper, triple strike and woolly howls. Now all these are all lovely and all, but they are not Twilight, which is kinda important. The dragon is like another half of your soul, to have your dragon it needs to be the one that compliments or completes you. And then it hit me: Deadly Nadders. They're an intelligent Tracker Class dragon that's a skilled hunter (with a preference for domestic meat), incredibly loyal, intelligent, and playful. The pride of the nadder definitely contrasts Twilight's humble spirit, but I feel like a proud dragon would be good for him. Not only would he want to spoil them rotten, but he might actually become more confident in himself and develop a better self image. Also, he'd 100% meet this dragon while wandering around as Wolfie, I will give no other context.
Since it seems like I'm working with the older Links first, I think I'll touch on Sky next. Now, when I was trying to remember the Strike Class assortment I was thinking how Twilight wouldn't care for something with crazy fire abilities (pyrophobia anyone?) when all of a sudden I thought of the skrill, with it's lightning blasts. My first thought was 'keep that away from Legend and Sky' and than I paused and realized, 'Wait, Sky controls lightning too, sort of' and now I'm in love with the idea of Sky making friends with a skrill. Maybe it was enslaved to Demise and he just....befriended it, and now it won't leave him because loyalty. They're truly ferocious dragons, capable of debatibly the worst damage (out of normal, not behemoth sized dragons) and very strong and independent, mostly reclusive. But whereas a razorwhip is a match to Warriors, I feel a skrill would be a nice compliment to Sky. By all rights, at first glance, there is no reason they would bond, but look closer and there are some similarities and they could actually work really well together! Granted, you can't ride a living electrical current (unless you maybe borrow Wild's suit) but if Sky still has his loftwing, he wouldn't need to. He could still be partners with his friend, just never fly on him, just with him (although the image of Sky and the Skrill both sparking with lightning in a battle is gorgeous tbh).
Now we head into the dragons for the younger ones, and I finally figured out something for Legend! The Changewing! It's a highly aggressive and dangerous dragon, yes, but they're only that way to beings outside of their family groups. Within them, we see they are highly defensive, caring and even nurturing (I mean, as much as we get to see of them). They're dragons that don't rely so much on brute force in battle, but rather stealth and powerful attacks. Like Legend, who tends to back the others up from the sidelines or employ items more than a sword, these dragons have a unique blast and tend to rely on their camaflouge in battle or when threatened. A key point for me is that they aren't overly large and are very agile, which Legend would need, considering how often his adventures had him slinking through small places, darting around and whatnot. How our snippy vet befriended an even snippier dragon, I'm not sure, but I'd say one or the other probably met while one of them was injured/near death and something made them think twice of killing the threat and made them instead try to help the other. After that, unbreakable bond. Like Warriors, I imagine Legend working as a fluid team with his dragon, no words needed. Less battling though, and more solving puzzles, discovering new things and fighting dungeons.
Hyrule next. At first I thought Hyrule is one who would also need a smaller, more agile dragon. Something smart, quick, but also more of the protective sort, considering his world's current outlook regarding him. That's about when I started reviewing dragons and then realized...no. Hyrule doesn't need a dragon to help him run, he needs one to stand with him and strengthen him. He needs a dragon who contrasts him to the point of it being ridiculous, one that's his complete opposite in every way, because it views itself as only worthy of the best whereas he sees himself as the least. What does he need? Well, I'm pairing Hyrule with a Monsterous Nightmare. We've seen Hyrule in battle, burning the enemy armies to the ground, but what would it be like if we gave him a dragon to help do it faster? A dragon that's not just a bit vain, but outright one of the proudest of all; big, powerful, standing out and drawing attention. This relationship definitely wasn't started by Hyrule and he has no clue how it's continued, but I feel like a Nightmare would look at him and go 'ah, yes, truly the most powerful and worthy of warriors, I can work with that one' meanwhile Hyrule is over here kicking at rocks in frustration that he's 'not good enough!'. Where Twilight's Nadder would help him overcome his self doubts through association, a Nightmare would smack Hyrule upside the head with his greatness, which I think is the only way to actually get it through to him. So yes, lovely, powerful, dangerous, unlikely duo. They're still working everything out, but they get along, and Hyrule stays warm and safe this way.
Okay, Wind next. Wild and Four are giving me the most trouble, so I'm doing Wind first. Wind would have a Thunderdrum. No, not just because they're a water dragon, I actually considered giving him a Speedstinger at first, but really, Thunderdrums seem to suit him better. Thunderdrums are highly powerful water dragons, but their main form of attack implements the air. They're aquatic dragons, so the likelihood of them surviving well in his world is higher than most other sorts, and while they aren't really the most intelligent of dragons, they are strong, powerful, occasionally playful, and even empathetic. I think Wind would have met his dragon while either traveling with the King of Red Lions or with Tetra. maybe they sailed close to a pod for a while and eventually became somewhat familiar with them. (While Wind would have met his dragon this way, Tetra wouldn't have cared for the Thunderdrums so much and yes, I know this is for the boys but Tetra has a Scauldron please and thank you). Wind and his dragon would be more buddies than actual partners. They have their disagreements and struggles, and don't always work well together, but they would die for each other and they know it.
Okay, Wild time. I had a bit of trouble with this one, but I finally figured it out and it was a total accident that it happened to be the Sentinel. Hear me out! Sentinels are blind, stone like dragons who rely on their other sense rather than sight, they're protectors, and as long as whatever they're protecting is safe, they're happy to remain still as statues, (to the point people usually think they are statues). I think this suits Wild; not only is he harmless unless he or his are threatened, but much like Wolfie the Sentinel wouldn't interfere unless it sense he was in need of help, something which I'm sure we all know he'd appreciate greatly. I feel like a Sentinel is a quiet yet stern sort of companion who could help ground our wildling a bit without caging him, and who could look out for him from close or afar without getting in his way. Also, it's fun to think of Wild, fresh from the Shrine, running across what seems to be a really cool dragon statue, just to realize that oh crap! it's alive! And this big dragon takes one look at this tiny, naked Hylian and goes 'well there's nothing else to take care of anymore' and just claims him.
Now, finally! Four!
Okay, so Four absolutely is the reason this took me so long to answer. I'd hashed out nearly everyone else's dragons the moment I saw this ask, but Four has haunted me and made life difficult because of something very simple: Four is complete.
Okay, so, Four is four kids in a trenchcoat, or four heroes anyway since they hate being called a kid. The Four of them complete each other in a way no other hero completes themselves. See, the rest of the heroes have dragons that compliment or complete them, but as I was going through every class, every dragon, and trying to pin down something that suited Four, all I could find were dragons that suited one or two of their colors, not all of them. There was nothing to complete Four because the colors themselves already balance and round them out. As for complimenting, how do you compliment something that's at once four and one? Now, you could say that a Snapptrapper would be ideal, but that dragon species is just a venus flytrap of dragons and doesn't do much more then smell nice and kill stuff. Not Four's style.
And then it hit me. I was about to settle on Smothering Smokebreathes for them because Smokebreathes would make sense to a point. Instead of complimenting or completing Four, they would just be companions. Four isn't as likely as the others to need companionship, help or protection from a dragon because he can just split, so I thought some scavenger/smithy buddies would be nice. Maybe Smopkebreathes broke into their forge one day and they ended up befriending them as a way to get their stuff back from them. Then maybe they trained them to work with and not against, yada yada... And that's not a bad idea, but it mademe sad to think that Four might not get a dragon best friend.
And then, walkiing along, my brain was suddenly invavded by a nightfury and I just had to stop and go 'of course!'. Now, i wanted to avoid giving the coveted nightfury to any of the boys simply for the sake of the Nightfury being the literal best dragon out there. Additionally, I kinda wanted Four's dragon friend to be big as a way to oppose his own size (partially for kicks), but I guess not.
A nightfury suits Four best because it suits all the colors, both seperate and together. they're strong and dangerous, powerful creatures that Blue would respect. They're fast and good team-mates, which Green would enjoy (especially as his brothers don't always work well with him). They're intelligent and observant, and can create awesome nightlights for reading which Vio would most definitely love. And they're empathetic, understanding and loyal, all traits Red would appreciate. Furthermore, a nightfury is complete in itself. it doesn't need a human/hylian, which is why it suits Four so well. neither need each other, but it doesn't stop them from being good friends and working together.
And that concludes the Chain!
Sorry I took so lomng to answer this, some of the boys were difficult :/
#linkeduniverse#linked universe#lu warriors#lu time#lu twilight#lu sky#lu legend#lu hyrule#lu wind#lu wild#lu four#dragons
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King Arthur & Jurassic Park
Finally, after a long drought, the cinematic dreams have returned! Maybe it was because I didn’t drink any chamomile last night. Pity, I really like it though.
Anyway, last night I dreamt that the Singapore government wanted to drum up more tourism, but we didn’t really have stuff that you couldn’t see elsewhere, for cheaper. Zoos? Aquariums? Theme parks? Most every other country’s got their own, nothing special about ours. Scenic hiking trails? Don’t make me laugh, we don’t even have room for houses. Watersports? Our seas are as polluted as you would expect a top port to be from the hundreds of ships that pass through on the daily.
So what the government decided to do instead was to set up our very own Jurassic Park, despite the entire franchise of movies dedicated to demonstrating why that is a Very Bad Idea. And because there’s been a recent human rights furore over the continued retention of the death penalty in Singapore, the government decided to “rehabilitate” their image by offering condemned prisoners a choice - death row or construction work on DinoLand.
I found out about this because I was also working on DinoLand - not as a prisoner, but just as - a consultant for various things, legal, bioengineering the dinos, park aesthetics. (I have a very varied CV.) And I wondered why many of the workers had handcuffs on as they worked, and they told me.
Anyway. The dinos escaped midway through construction. Of course they did. Upper management, true to form, were a bunch of cost-cutting arseholes and scrapped many of the safety measures “because the prisoners are condemned to execution anyway, does it matter if they’re safe or not?” Idiots that they were, they didn’t consider that if the dinos could escape their enclosures, they could escape the entire park, which is what they did. The dinos overran Singapore and Malaysia destroyed the Causeway so they couldn’t migrate over there and cause chaos. At least we didn’t have any flying or swimming dinos, so that was a sound strategy.
Being on friendly terms with the prisoners actually helped a lot in this situation, because they were the ones with enough....violent experience - to survive on an island overrun with dinosaurs. Me and one other prisoner actually managed to commandeer a yacht that we sailed all the way to Australia.
My friend AN was kind enough to offer us sanctuary on her farm. After we’d been there a couple days, we started noticing this scruffy white guy around the farm. It transpired that was Arthur, as in The King Arthur, of myth and legend, and he was working on the farm for AN and lived in her barn with the cows. AN said she’d found him sneaking around her lands one day and stealing vegetables and she’d offered him food and lodging in return for his help running the place. She’d offered him a room in the farmhouse at first, which was expansive, but he’d been terrified of modern inventions such as electric lights and televisions and preferred very much to live in the barn, so she let him. No word on how he even ended up in Australia to begin with.
We couldn’t communicate with him, at least not verbally or by written word, since he spoke Early/Middle English with an extremely strong rural English accent to boot, so we couldn’t understand him and he couldn’t understand us. AN only knew who he was because he was carrying around a sword which had “Arthur” emblazoned down one side of the blade and “Excalibur” down the other. And he was the only one who could lift it. We saw it in the barn, he could leave it lying around without any fear of it being stolen because to anyone else trying to lift it it was so heavy it might as well have been welded to the ground. But he and AN seemed to have - not quite telepathy, but an understanding that allowed them to have what Trevor Noah calls “eye conversations”. Like they could hold an entire conversation through looks and facial expressions.
Arthur was....fascinating. I’ll have to draw him sometime. For now, I’ll try to make do with words. The first few times I saw him, I thought he was old, but then after I’d been there a while I’d sometimes catch him in the golden glow of the sunset or there’d be a quick smile when one of the farm cats would snuggle against his leg, and then I realised he wasn’t old, not physically, anyway. I’d put him at late 30s, early 40s - which I suppose is positively ancient by medieval standards. He looked old because the grief of centuries lost and the pain of his bad arm weighed heavily on him. AN told us when she’d first coaxed him into her employ and he’d finally trusted her enough to let her give him a medical checkup (like a skittish cat), she’d discovered his right arm had been badly broken before and not mended correctly, which, I suppose, is why he wasn’t wielding Excalibur so much as just keeping it around with him. He looked - how do I describe this? Not exactly handsome, but sort of like - one of those ancient ruined castles or cathedrals. Worn down and weathered, but you could see how it was beautiful and mighty before, at the height of its glory. He was pretty well-built, tall and strong, but as mentioned, his right arm was wrecked, so he always moved slowly and awkwardly, like he was in pain. He had fluffy ash brown hair, like a hawk’s feathers, shot through with grey streaks, and the most expressive grey-blue eyes that would cloud over like a storm or clear like the endless sky. He was generally very quiet, because, well, language barrier, but he either never bothered to or didn’t know how to control his facial expressions (I guess you don’t need to, if you’re king), so even though my prisoner companion and I didn’t have quite as deep an understanding of him to have eye-conversations the way AN did, we could still read his moods easily enough. Underneath the silent exterior he had a very lively spirit. Strong currents under still waters, as they say. You could see him beam with pride when a calf took its first steps or side-eye the cats in fond exasperation when they messed up his meager possessions. He seemed somewhat mistrustful of other people but he was very sweet with the animals. He especially adored her dog and two cats. He’d make little toys for them out of scraps of cloth and whatever random things he would find, and sneak them some of his food until AN would glare at him for overfeeding them, and then he’d look sort of embarrassed.
It was incredible to me that a legendary king with a magic sword would be content to work as a farmhand for a woman likely a decade younger than him, but he didn’t seem to have any arrogance at all. Maybe it was because the bad arm prevented him from fighting, maybe it was because the world he found himself in was too confusing. He seemed - if not exactly content, resigned to this situation. I would’ve liked to find out more about him, but one day the alarm clock rang and I found myself in my IRL bed instead of my farmhouse bedroom and that was that.
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LU Boys as College Students
(Note: I'm not planning to do a fic with these or anything, these were just some ideas that flew into my head.)
Time:
Can't imagine him as a student, so he's the History professor. Comes off as extremely intimidating to freshmen, but is a favorite of the upper-classmen.
Graduated from the college he teaches at, but his graduation year is a topic of debate among students. Even many of the other professors aren't quite sure how long he's been working there.
It took the Boys a ridiculous amount of time to realize that the sweet red-haired lady working in the cafeteria was his wife; they had all assumed he was an old bachelor.
Is secretly responsible for most of the campus legends, folk tales, and other rumors of strange and creepy happenings.
You don't prank Time in his classroom, he pranks you. Has a tendency to target freshmen.
His classes always get out exactly on time, and if you have the audacity to start packing up your things while he's still lecturing, he will glare at you so intensely that you'll feel as if you have holes burned into your head.
Warriors:
Senior Communication and Business double major
Since they were put together in a group during the university's "Welcome Weekend" their freshman year, he, Twilight, and Sky have been inseparable.
Aside from double majoring, is the president of multiple clubs, is the football quarterback, and is even involved in the drama department.
Somehow seems to have his life together, and no one can figure out how. Assignments get in on time, gets perfect grades, all the professors love him. His planners have planners.
Spoiler alert: he actually doesn't have his life together. He's that one guy who is so busy that he gets maybe 4 hours of sleep on a good day and is always having to shower at 3 am.
Twilight:
Senior English Major with a History Minor
Is that one guy who, despite having quite a lot of friends and being fairly popular, still somehow comes off as a loner.
Strangely popular with the professors.
Will go to random club meetings if Warriors drags him there, but is only truly involved in the campus literary magazine, which he runs.
Works in the campus library.
Is the guy to look for if you want coffee, tea, etc.
Is related to Time, but doesn't advertise that information very widely.
Has never dated anyone on-campus. Only Warriors and Sky know that this is because he had a high-school sweetheart that he still hasn't gotten over.
Sky:
Senior Criminal Justice Major with a Music Minor
As he's such a sweet and unassuming guy, most people outside the criminal justice department are mystified as to his choice in major (the Education department kids have made bids to steal him multiple times). But those in the department are under no such delusion. Sky is....terrifyingly good at what he does.
He and Sun, who is the daughter of the university's president, grew up together and were high school sweethearts. (Sun is a physical therapy major.)
Is the RA on his floor. You would think that his dorm is the chillest place ever, and you'd be correct--except for the fact that all of his residents are slightly TERRIFIED of him. They speak in whispers of what they have dubbed the "Coke-and-Mentos-Rocket Incident of 2021." Due to this, is dorm is one of the most well-behaved on campus.
Is the guy playing the guitar at any major campus event.
Likes to have group movie nights in his room.
Legend:
Junior Theatre Major with a Music Minor
Somehow wound up roommates with Warriors after Wars' former roommate dropped out after one semester. As you would expect, they fought constantly, and after many pointless intermediary sessions with their RA and campus Resident Life, they are...still roommates. No one understands why. One assumes that they must have figured something out--but considering they still fight just as much, you wouldn't be able to tell.
Really does NOT give the air of a theatre kid--until you see him on stage, that is. Managed to land a main role in the play his freshman year and has always landed them since. A shockingly good singer.
As you would guess, part of Legend and Warrior's animosity stems from vying for the lead roles in productions every semester. It really annoys Legend, as Warriors has PLENTY of other things he's involved with, but theatre is the only thing Legend is really involved in on campus AND it's his major.
His freshman year, rumors were flying about that he was dating a music major named Marin--until she mysteriously dropped out without warning. No one knows why, and Legend never talks about it, but stories and speculation abound.
Wild:
Sophomore (-ish), undecided
Is Twilight's younger brother.
Went into college undecided--perfectly fine, of course--but seems perfectly content to continue that way. His advisor is extremely worried for his intent in career but can't manage to get much out of him. As it is, he's focusing on gen-eds for the moment.
Works in the campus cafeteria, and when he isn't inadvertently causing disasters, between him and Malon, they sometimes manage to improve the state of the cuisine. (As much as it can be improved, anyway.)
Rides around campus on one of those electric scooters, even for really short distances. As you would expect, has run into people and objects multiple times.
Lives on Sky's floor.
When he isn't in class or working, he often makes money by selling whatever food he can whip up on the fly to the guys in his dorm--grilled cheese, quesadillas, cupcakes, etc.
Is considering dropping out and going to culinary school.
Hyrule:
Sophomore Biology (Pre-Med) Major
Gets mistaken for a high schooler a lot--it doesn't seem to bother him much, though.
Managed to get so ridiculously lost his first day of classes that he missed nearly all of them. He would have if he hadn't been rescued by Legend, who he happened to share a gen-ed with. Legend forcibly adopted him into the friendgroup afterwards, and (though he won't admit it) has been fiercely protective of him ever since.
Didn't have a lot of friends in high school, and isn't used to having such a close friendgroup.
Lives on Sky's floor, and is roommates with Wild. Their room is a disaster zone--even Sky won't touch it with a ten-foot pole.
Has a habit of going missing for several hours or even days at a time and missing classes--he always manages to toe the line of allowable absences. The professors almost expect it at this point. The Boys usually send someone out to look for him, but they usually aren't too worried.
Had to be tutored in his gen-ed English Composition class by Twilight his freshman year. He struggled a lot with the class almost to the point of tears, but Twi helped him through it, and afterwards he even managed to convince him to join the literary journal.
Four:
Junior Psychology and History Double Major
Skipped a year thanks to high school credit. Is very dedicated--his work ethic could give Warriors a run for his money.
Works in the library with Twilight.
Lives on Sky's floor, and is roommates with Wind. Their room alternates between pristine cleanliness and absolute disaster zone--there is no in-between.
Has tried to start a metalworking club on campus, but can't get enough people who are interested to join.
Is widely liked by the student body, but most struggle to get an exact read on him.
Wind:
Freshman Communication Major
Also gets mistaken for a high schooler a lot--and it DOES seem to bother him.
Almost decided to go to a trade school, but changed his mind for the sake of his grandma, who really wanted him to get a college degree. (He's still half-considering dropping out after this first year, though.)
Is a bit uncertain about his major.
Idolizes Warriors--many refer to Wind as Wars' mini-me.
Floats in and out of clubs--can never seem to settle on a single interest.
Is always texting his sister, and has absolutely no shame about it.
#val’s lu college au#sorry i couldn't come up with a ton for four and wind#i'm open to suggestions#also a lot of this is based off of my small private college experience thus far#so if anything sounds off that's why#and not me projecting on twi hahaha neverrr#and hyrule a lil bit#linkeduniverse#linked universe#lu time#lu warriors#lu sky#lu twilight#lu wild#lu legend#lu four#lu hyrule#lu wind#lu headcanons#headcanon#lu headcanon
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A Dedicated Pig-Technoblade
#3 and 47 from this prompt list! Check out my masterlist here! This is in the DreamSMP Au. I
This is a Technoblade x GN reader!
So in this AU I am making it so that your cannon lives are shown on your left wrist. And if someone types something in chat or if someone joins the server, it appears as text on your right arm until you dismiss it! If you are confused feel free to ask me any questions!
Part Two! Part Three! Part Four!
Y/N finally meets the one that everyone has been walking on eggshells over.
Y/N’s POV
I will never forget the gasps, murmurs, and then tense silence that followed the notification that everyone received on their right arm. Technoblade had joined the SMP. I didn’t understand why it was such a big deal though. Of course I had heard the stories. The horrors that he had done. The fights he picked and won. The amount of blood that had been shed at his hands had earned him the title of “The Blood God”. But when push comes to shove, he’s just another mortal man.
Everyone was a little freaked out and on edge because of the new addition to the server. I mean, Schlatt had just banished Techno’s family, his two brothers, from the nation that they created and fought for. Everyone knew that family was everything to Techno and if there was one thing Techno would do anything for it was his family. He would literally go to hell and back if it meant that his brothers and his father were safe.
Finally after a few minutes of everyone holding their breath, I scoffed, rolled my eyes, and went on with my work, cleaning up the election decorations. All eyes turned to me “Y/N” Niki hissed, “Do you not understand what just happened? He could be anywhere” I let out a joyless laugh as I looked at my best friend, “You really think he’s going to come here right away? With nothing on him? With his brothers on the run? You think he’s going to worry about coming here, where it would be a 1 vs…” My eyes scanned the crowd doing a quick mental count, “15 plus? Come on Niki, think with that big brain of yours.” I claimed, a little annoyed, as I took down a banner.
Niki let out a shaky sigh but nodded and continued helping me. “You’re right,” I chuckled at her response and bumped her shoulder, “You know I always am”. Soon, everyone went back to their own tasks, forgetting the news we all had just received. ‘See Mr. Pig Man Blood God’ I silently thought to myself, ‘You’re not as scary as you may think’.
*Time skip*
A week and a half had gone by since Technoblade had joined the server and no one had seen him. Like I had predicted, he immediately had searched and met up with his brothers and had stayed clear of the main part of the server. That being said, I should have known that he would rear his pink head at some point…
When I first joined the server, I had made myself a small farm for food. Well of course everyone found out about it and wanted a part of it. So my small farm grew and grew. When Niki built her bakery, she needed a steady supply of well… supplies. Sugar, wheat, eggs, milk, and all that. I had plenty and I was more than happy to give her what she needed in exchange for baked goods. So once a week I would haul boxes of supplies across the SMP from my farm to her bakery.
Everyone was aware of this and so on these days everyone would stay out of my way. Which is why I was so surprised to slam into someone while carrying a box of eggs to the bakery.
I let out a huge gasp as the sound of eggs cracking filled my ears as I slammed into someone. The box fell out of my hands as raw egg covered my hands and body. “What the hell!” I cried out, looking up to yell at whoever had just crashed into me. I was momentarily stunned. There in the flesh, right in front of me, stood the Blood God himself, Technoblade. My surprise didn’t last long as I remembered why I was angry in the first place.
“What the hell are you doing here? It’s bakery day, sure you didn’t know that, but you should have taken the hint not to be here when you didn’t see anyone walking this part of the Prime path!” I shouted at the pink haired man. Techno’s brown eyes widened as I verbally attacked him. “And now I’m covered in raw egg! This is not pleasant! It’s gross and sticky and cold and I do not enjoy it! You are sooooo lucky I have a change of clothes at the farm and that my chickens laid a lot of extra eggs this week or else you would have had to explain to dear sweet Niki why she wouldn’t be able to open her cute bakery this week.” I hissed out.
“I’m sorry,” Techno began with a raised eyebrow, “Do you not know who you’re talking to?” He questioned with a deep voice. I let out a loud scoff at the audacity of his question, “Of course I know who you are, Mr. Blood God,” I mocked. “So. You do know who I am and what I am capable of.” I scoffed at his smug words. “I said I did, didn’t I? And frankly I couldn’t care less about you and your reputation. You’re just a guy. A guy that has ruined my day because I now have egg all over me!” I complained, wiping my hands on my pants.
I reached down and began picking up the box and the eggs and egg shells that had fallen on the ground.“You know, I could kill you with no hesitation?” Techno claimed as he crouched down, moving his face close to mine. “I’ve done it before to many others. They blink and my sword has entered their chest. I’ve probably slaughtered more people than you’ve ever met in your life,” Techno mused, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.
I looked up from my box with a blank expression on my face, “Am I supposed to be scared of you? Is that supposed to scare me? Make me shake in my boots?” I questioned, my eyebrow raised. Techno’s smirk slowly slipped off his face. He quickly stood up and stared at me in shock, “Didn’t you hear me? I could kill you!” He explained. I rolled my eyes and also stood up. “So could another human. Literally anyone else. So could a fall from a huge height. So could a dedicated chicken. You’re not special.” I stated, turning on my heel and began walking back toward my farm.
“So you’re really not scared of me?” I heard Techno question as he began to jog to catch up to me. “Haven’t I made that clear? You may have scary stories and legends surrounding you, but when it comes right down to it, you’re a man. Well, part pig, part man, but a man and mortal all the same.” Techno let out a scoff, “Technoblade never dies,” he claimed. “But you could. You have three cannon lives just like the rest of us.” I concluded.
Techno silently followed me as I moved through the barn, replacing the eggs that had cracked when we collided. After I filled the box once more, I set it down before stepping into the bathroom I had built. “I’ll be right out. Don’t touch anything.” I commanded. Techno gave me a mock salute before looking around the barn once more. I closed the door and quickly cleaned up. I took off my egg covered clothes, washed my hands and body before putting on the clean clothes I kept here.
I found Techno where I left him. “You ready to go?” I questioned softly. His eyes trailed from my horses back to me as he gently nodded. I made my way back to the boxes before picking the egg box back up. “Is this going to?” Techno asked. I looked over and found him pointing at the last box needing to go to the bakery. “Yeah, but you don’t have to-” I was cut off by Techno picking up the box. “Let’s go” He said walking out the door. I let out a laugh before following him, being sure to close the door behind me.
The two of us made small talk about anything and everything on our way to the bakery. Techno told me all about Wilbur and Tommy’s constant squabbles and I told him all about everyone’s wariness ever since he joined the server. Techno helped me put everything away, which caused me to be done a lot sooner than I usually get done. The two of us left the bakery and made our way back outside. We began strolling the prime path and subconsciously came to a stop where the two of us met.
Our conversation died down and the two of us stood there for a moment, just staring at each other. I finally cleared my throat, “Thank you for helping me today. I really appreciate it.” I thanked, running a hand through my hair. Techno mirrored my actions with a shy smile on his face, “No problem. It’s the least I could do.” There was a slight pause before he spoke again, “Hey. Listen. I’m sorry for threatening you earlier. It’s just… Everyone I’ve ever met has been terrified of me and when you weren't… It really threw me for a loop. So… thanks. Thank you for giving me a chance.” I let out a giggle at his vulnerability, “It’s no problem…. Maybe when this is all over and you and your brothers are welcome back into L’Manberg, we could hang out more.” I offered. Techno gave me a soft smile and a gentle nod, “Yeah. I’d like that. A lot.”
“Techno!” A voice whisper shouted. The two of us jumped at the sudden interruption and turned to look at who had called the pink haired man’s name. It was Wilbur. “There you are! Where have you been?!” He questioned, marching up to the two of us. Techno made a gesture to me. Wilbur’s eyes shifted to me. I gave him a smile and a wave. “Hey Wilbur. It’s great to see you” Wilbur’s eyes softened as he gave me a smile, “Hey Y/N. It’s so good to see you too. We’ve got to go. Techno was supposed to be on a spy mission, but I see he got distracted…” I laughed at his words and nodded. “Something like that,” Techno claimed, rubbing the back of his head a blush.
“Well it was great to see you Wilbur. Tell Tommy I miss him and that I say to stop trying to decorate with things that aren’t his, yeah?” Wilbur gave me another soft smile and nod, “Will do Y/N. Tell Niki I miss her?” I returned his smile and nod. I then turned to Technoblade and gave him a smile as well, “It was lovely to meet you. I really hope this is over soon so I can show you my weapons collection.” Techno’s eyes lit up and he nodded. “It was amazing to meet you too Y/N. And I would love that. So much.” I giggled at his response and nodded. “I knew you would. Bye guys.” I gave them both one last smile before turning and headed back to my farm.
As I was leaving I overheard the next part of Techno and Wilbur’s conversation. “So… Y/N huh?” “Shut up.” “Who knows, when this thing is all over maybe you’ll get together and have pink haired, Y/E/C babies… Oh I would be the best uncle and-” “I’ll give you a five second headstart.” “Oh come on Techno-” “Five” “Please” “Four” “Tech-” “Three” “You know it’s-” “Two” “Oh come on” “One” “OH GOD! RUNNING!”
I let myself look over my shoulder at the two. Sure enough Wilbur was sprinting down the prime path as fast as he could, but Techno was right behind him. “Get over here!” Techno shouted after Wilbur. “NO!” I let myself giggle at the two’s antics. My eyes focused on the two for as long as I could, but soon enough the two were out of my view and my ear shot. Oh I can’t wait until this is all over.
There you go! I hope you enjoyed! And I hope I did the anon that requested this justice! If you did enjoy, be sure to leave a like! And maybe even a reblog or reply telling me what you liked about it! Until next time!
#mcyt#mcyt imagine#mcyt x reader#mcyt drabble#prompt list#requested#ray-ray-writings#technoblade#technoblade imagine#technoblade x reader#techno imagine#gender neutral#tommyinnit#wilbur soot#dream#dreamsmp#dream smp#dreamsmp imagine#dream smp imagine#a dedicated pig#dreamsmp au#dreamsmpau#smp
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In one of your newer asks (forgot which one) you said that Harry got over Sirius' death quickly and that he liked what he represented not the actual person. Can you explain Harry's reactions to the deaths of people (he "loves")? And what he actually liked/valued? I hope you understand what I'm talking about. . .
So, I made a post in which I revealed the crux of my thoughts on Harry. In short, Harry’s a psychopath. And no, I’m not exaggerating or throwing words out there. By the end of the series, Harry is one seriously scary dude.
He shows a complete lack of empathy for anyone or anything in all circumstances.
When Hermione narks on Harry’s suspicious Firebolt Chirstimas present, he refuses to speak to her for half a year and it takes Hagrid having an intervention for him to consider maybe (maybe) deigning to speak with her again. When Marietta’s mother is in the position of losing her job at the Ministry, and Marietta narks, Cho tries to point this out to Harry and Harry tells her snitches get stitches. Harry gleefully goes to Hogsmeade in his third year despite the entire government desperately trying to protect him, it takes about ten people pointing this out until Harry finally feels vaguely guilty.
Harry’s rage is terrifying. He gleefully uses a curse which he has been told many times is evil to torture another human being and feels next to nothing afterwards (there’s no reflection on who this makes him as a person). His stalking of and later butchering of Draco Malfoy is dismissed shockingly easily, he’s not upset about having nearly accidentally murdered Draco but instead more about getting caught and then that his beloved Halfblood Prince is really Snape.
Why am I talking about this?
Because I think Harry’s incapable of love.
... The utter irony and blasphemy of that sentence just struck me. Let’s pause a moment and sit in wonder that it has come to this.
Right.
Harry has... friends, but they’re always friends of convenience. Whenever they happen to disagree with him, on anything, it’s always the friend who has to crawl back (and they do because he’s Harry Mother Fucking Potter). To Harry the world is marvelously black and white, divided into those that like him and those that do not.
Think about it, does Harry admire or like anyone who does not personally like him? I can’t think of a single one.
When Percy refuses to believe Harry, for very understandable reasons, Harry sours on him far beyond he already had (I admit he wasn’t overly fond of Percy, as Percy was the brother no one liked and Ron vented about him constantly). Fleur is an Ice Queen Bitch until Harry saves Gabrielle’s life and she becomes very grateful to and sweet to him.
He can’t deal with nuances. We see this with Dumbledore. Harry finds out that Dumbledore used him in perhaps the most heinous manner imaginable. Dumbledore, perhaps, cared nothing for him at all. However, Harry cannot come to terms with this, given how well the man seemed to have treated him in the past, and instead creates this heroic martyr legend for Dumbledore.
Same with Snape, the instant Harry learns that Snape had been Dumbledore’s agent, suddenly the past doesn’t matter and Snape is the bravest man Harry knows.
My point being, Harry doesn’t love Sirius, he barely knows Sirius, what he instead loves is the idea of Sirius. Sirius is Harry’s first real promise of family, of a father figure, and of escape from the Dursleys. While it’s not possible now, it’s something that can soon become a reality, something Harry wants desperately.
Harry’s grief for Sirius’ death presents itself as some seriously scary rage (i.e. the stalking of Draco Malfoy) but it never seems to be about Sirius himself. Harry doesn’t miss any aspects of Sirius himself all that much just... the notion of him, the promise of him. Which I think is what Sirius ultimately was to Harry.
Sirius and Harry never really saw each other clearly. Sirius is a mess after Azkaban and is fixated on the memory of James that lives inside Harry. Harry doesn’t mind this, or even really notice that Sirius isn’t in a good place, because Sirius is just the idea of a father to him.
But yes, I think for Harry, in general, his grief for things is very shortlived and tends to manifest in RAGE. We spend, what, a chapter feeling sad Hedwig died? (To be fair, as a reader the idea that Hedwig’s death is supposed to make me feel something always made me laugh). We get a good few days being sad that Dobby died for the cause.
Harry was relatively sad when Snape died and revealed the truth, but mostly I think because he was having the existential crisis one must have when you realize you were secretly a Kamikaze agent this entire time.
Yeah, Harry, what a guy.
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kind of an odd request — do you have fics where erik is grumpy with everyone else but a ray of sunshine with charles?
Hi anon, thank you for the ask. First and foremost, I'm so sorry for how long this took me but I've been searching for all the fics that come to mind that fit your request. Second, this is not an odd request because I love this trope so much. I mean, it's basically canon that he's grumpy with everyone except for his Charles, right? Anyway, I might add to this list later on, but I can't sit on this any longer and hope that you have found some fics that you enjoy!!
Fic Recs Where Erik is grumpy with everyone but a ray of sunshine with Charles
Twice as Blind – Darksknight
Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.
(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)
In the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush
Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.
The Proper Care of Actors – Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei, afrocurl
Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.
Rumor Mill – ikeracity
Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.
So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.
What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.
Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash
Summary: Alex is pretty sure his weird, anti-social boss is a robot. Right up until the guy's adorable husband shows up. His adorable husband who happens to be a famous actor. His adorable husband who happens to be the very same famous actor who was the source of many of Alex's teenage fantasies.
Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad
Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.
For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.
Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren
Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.
Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme
Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.
Growing Pains – ikeracity
Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.
Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.
Series
Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl
Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.
Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash
Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby. Part of ‘the Daycare’ verse.
Walling in or Walling Out – stlkrchck
Summary: Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.
For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.
(Wise Men Say) Only Fools Rush In – wildelybroken
Summary: After reading a fic where Erik and Charles are super sluts, meet at what is presumably Raven and Emma's engagement party, and end up sleeping together, I made the following comment and just inspired myself.
"They start casually texting each other throughout the day, maybe while they’re bored or frustrated at work, and start out meeting up and sleeping together semi-frequently. And eventually they accidentally start dating without noticing it at first, not until Raven and Emma get them alone and are like “wtf you two super sluts are actually dating??” And at first they deny, but then they’re both like “holy shit, we are!” And they meet back at one of their places and they don’t have to say anything, they just look at each other and come together immediately, kissing passionately and ~making love~. In the middle of it they realise that’s what they’ve been doing for a long time now and they confess their love to each other and they live happily ever after because they deserve all the good in the world."
For Charles – Shigai
Summary: Tired of being told he has to find his 'heart', classical piano graduate Erik Lehnsherr decides to travel to Italy and drink from the famous Italian passion for music. While searching for it, he meets Charles Xavier, a graduate in Fine Arts who is basically travelling around the world perfectioning his technique, and who will turn his world upside down.
Together they will discover that, sometimes, what you thought you didn't need is what you needed the most.
Erik Hates People – Anonymous
Summary: Erik hates people- it's his rule, a way of living.
Sugar – humanitys_cutest
Summary: Erik glances at the clock for what feels like the tenth time in less than half the minutes. It feels like he's been in some meeting or other since the day started almost 10 hours ago, and he's had just about enough of listening to these pompous old men discuss what would be the best design for his building like they know anything about it. He tries as subtly as possible to massage his temples to assuage the building migraine, but he knows it's no use.
He just wants to go home.
Everyone Likes Charles – Rosawyn
Summary: '“Everyone who's met him likes him.” Cain's grin was even stupider than before. “Once you meet him, you'll see.”
It was almost like a challenge then. And damn. Erik hated saying no to a challenge.'
Still Going Strong – JackyJango
Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.
Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.
You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.
But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.
All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed – hllfire
Summary: Charles meets Erik, the man he had heard about many times from his sister and some friends, on a rainy Sunday morning. The stories about Erik paint him as a distant and intimidating man, but Charles finds out that maybe the stories had been wrong.
How to Successfully Ruin Your Life – humanveil
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.
Stolen – ishipitsobad
Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.
So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.
Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – magneto, pangea
Summary:Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.
Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.
The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea
Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.
“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"
“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”
#fic recs#cherik fic recs#cherik#asks#earnestly answers#I'm sure there are waaaay more fics out there#might add more later
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Could I request a Jaskier x female reader where the reader is a princess who during daylight, is condemned to be a bear, after being cursed by an evil sorcerer At night she become a human again. Which the curse can only be broken by a man (who would be Jaskier) who pledges his heart solely to the reader (something like true love’s kiss). Please and thank you!!!
Bruin
jaskier x reader
masterlist
Warnings; mentions of witcher killing, mentions of death and angst, curses, nudity, some fluff, implied smut
“G-Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shivered, as he saw a great mountain of brunette fur, wading through the long grass, heavy breathing exhibiting from its wet snout. “There’s a bear!”
“If you’re that scared, try to speak quieter.” The Witcher’s speech remained monotone, as he continued walking, leaving the bard to catch up with his hardy footsteps. “We need to leave before nightfall, that is when the true monster is unleashed from the bruin vessel.”
“You kill monsters, we’ll be fine.” The bard waved off, though he was terrified, and Geralt was all but convinced with his dismissal. “We will, won’t we Geralt?”
“It’s bad luck to remain out here at night, it’s an old wives tale, however, no one survives the night out here. Not after the disappearance of the princess of Arafell.” Jaskier remembered that tale, he had even seen the princess at a banquet once when they were both young in age.
Neither of them had the opportunity to converse with one another that evening, it was the night she had ran away. and he certainly had regretted never asking her dance. Before that though, they had often strode through the gardens hand in hand, conversing on the beauty of the petals that veiled around the stems, and she, unlike most people, listened to his descriptive forms of poetry. Back then, he had been shy, and not to mention, she was of sought after royal blood. That evening was the last that anyone from the kingdom had ever been seen, after the slumber of eternity wept over their souls. One thing he severely remembered though, was that she loved dandelions.
The princess had ran away, leaving the king and queen in search of someone that could find her, and thus they hired a private sorcerer to complete their wishes. But instead of seeking out the lost girl, the old man took the gold and the lives of old, wallowing the land in distress that clambered into a delving of madness.
A shout bellowed from the bear, and Jaskier found him to “How long will it be til we reach the borders?”
“The bad luck will loom over us Jaskier, we will not make it out of here in the span of the next countless hours. There will be a moon in the sky, but perhaps we’ll be able to seek out cover in the old guard’s tower.”
“Where are we Geralt?” The brown haired poet feared to be met with the answer “What makes you think that we’ll survive the night?!”
“This is what remains of Arafell.” Stated the white haired hunter, as he continued to plod through the thick foliage beneath his dark boots. He stepped on the dull green life form, not encouraged to pursue any further into the depths as he heard the destination that they were travelling through.
“Arafell, great.” Huffed the irritating bard, clutching his lute as he spoke the haunting name. “There’s no need to be afraid, when you’re in the land of torn bodies, because the witcher is by your side. He’ll slash and dice, protect the mice, from the darkness that falls from above. The people are dead, I am filled with dread, in the land of Ar-afellll.”
“Stop singing.” Whenever there was any fault present in their adventures together, Jaskier had a tendency, wallowing similar like a pie without filling to sing. It shrouded Geralt with epitomised frustration, his betrothed follower sure knew how to pull his strings, it was as though he were a moral lute, a practice run of socialisation for the noble’s son.
“Sorry.” Apologised the traveller, with a shrug encompassed by a spark of coldness affecting his posture. There was a breeze, filled with the pinching of icicles in the air, and it clawed through his clothes, clashing with the meat blanketed warmth of his bones. “It’s just- we’re in bloody Arafell, or what remains of it, and you are so calm. Have you maybe perhaps forgotten what happened here?!”
“No. I was here when it queen Ara and her kingdom fell. And that bear has lurked every inch of these demolished castle lands searching for scraps, and if you cannot tell, it is almost night fall, and she has come up sufficiently short of anything, for all these decades.”
The listener frowned, bears did not live so long. It was a curious prospect, it remained loyal to these grounds, although it was empty. There had to be a reason why, a pattern that supposed why it, or she as Geralt had divulged, remained to lurk in the midst of the overgrown forestry. And then another thought (yes, Jaskier had the ability to do that despite what his protective travel mate may have wondered), hit him, like a bolt of lightning.
“Um, Geralt, where is the bear?” He gulped, hearing the rustling of the thick foliage metres behind them. The moon scourged the sky with its global presence, inducing another shot of ambient fear through Jaskier’s veins. “It was-“
“Shut up a moment.” It was almost impossible half the time to silence Jaskier, but this time, he actually obliged the command. Geralt drew his sword, the one that glistened a predominate silver and was made from the compound, clutching the handle in his vice and skilled grip, as his feet took him closer to the imposter that was imbedded within the weeds.
“Oh.” Jaskier covered his eyes, he couldn’t look as Geralt pointed the weapon at the beasts throat; a whimper escaped it as Geralt took a step back, alerting his companion. “Kill it Geralt, it’s a bear, it’s going to kill us.”
“It was a bear.” Geralt elaborated as he watched the beast transform and lose its course coat of brown fur, turning into a less monstrous beast. It was only a girl, with unruly and wild hair that was matted in all directions, her face contorted into fear. “Of whom are you, my lady?”
“A witcher.” It trailed from her lips as a whisper, her tone alerting Jaskier that it indeed was not a bear, rather it was a woman, laid on the forest ground, in nothing but her own layers of skin. His eyes widened for a moment, until he earned an elbow in the rib from his friend for his long and convicted ogling. “I have only heard legends but...
“You speak english?” Jaskier wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, hinting at his subsequent misunderstanding of the situation. “but you were a bear?!” This was all growing more confusion with each passing second, there were too many angles of the world.
“I’m cursed.” It was an easy consequence to admit, for the lady of the worlds already lived through them. “Each day, I am forced to pad about in the brute body of a bruin, a sorcerer brought by darkness himself to this dimension damned me to this abomination, his name was-“
“Lament.” From hearing that name, the woman on the ground was taken aback as the women, trying to prevail some decency, attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, as she crossed her legs over one another. “Your parents sent me to find you, lady. I came up empty handed in my search for you, there was no trail that I managed to find, nothing that would point in your direction. And that night, as I returned with short of nothing of any news of your whereabouts, Lament was there.”
“He killed them all, didn’t he. My family?” The answer didn’t require any verification from Geralt, the solemn, yet usual expression on the Witcher’s face was all the confirmation that she needed. “Of course he did, he’s a poisonous shadow, when he finds something he wants, he takes away its home, so that it can’t run back to the hearth whence it came from. I regret every running away from home...”
“Wait a moment.” This was all beginning to add up in some mind boggling way. Jaskier flitted his gaze aside for a moment as Geralt pulled a fine blanket from his luggage, knowingly seeing the movement out of the corner of his curious eye that she was pulling the material that conducted warmth over her shoulders, and across her sachet of flaunted skin.
"Shut up Jaskier." Instantaneously stated the bard, whom had returned his cerulean gaze back upon the y/h/c woman, depositing a composition of interest to her form.
"You're the princess of Arafell, aren't you. Y/n, it's you, isn't it?" Y/n's expression was one of shock; how did this man know of her identity? She understood how the witcher did, though with considering he was condemned with the duty of finding her. The brunette man was slightly familiar, and so he revealed why that was. “it’s Julian.” Jaskier held his hand to his chest, almost hurt that you didn’t recognise him, but it had been years, so many, none of which had been kind to you. “My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.”
“Dandelion!” The reprised title spun from y/n's tongue, remembering the nickname that she had given the now gentleman all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a persisting boy that made her flash an unashamed laughter in the midst of poised quality showrooms of noble gatherings. "I remember you." She dwelled on the fact, if she weren't clothed in only a shrill and frayed blanket that was pebbled with small dots of soil, from where it had been laid on the ground, y/n surely would have jumped up and spun her arms around his 'sexy goose' neck.
"You've got to be kidding me, it is just my luck that the pair of you know each other." Geralt crossed his arms, shaking his sleek silver head, being deprived of attention as he spoke. "Is there any way to get yourself out to get you out of this prospected curse of turning into a bear, y/n?"
"To be betrothed to a man, confirmed with a kiss resonating true love, though, nobody with any sense would put themselves in that position for me, there is no wealth to my name anymore, nor is there relevance with my heritage, for there is nothing that remains, as you have confirmed for me. This man must certainly be one of a kind, for he has to pledge his loyalty solely to me, forbidding himself from ever being with another woman again."
The mention of a lack of sense reminded Geralt of one man in particular, and he was stood right beside him. But it couldn't have been Jaskier, of all people, and- Geralt found himself overcome with dread as the bard stepped forward, crunching his shoed feet into the withered grass, closer to the rediscovered princess.
"I have waited my whole life to see you again." Oh god, here he went, Geralt thought. "When we were younger, I was infatuated with you, and here we are, united again in a union. If my betrothal means nothing then you will remain in this shrine of gloom, but to me, it would mean everything to me."
"Y/N come on, have some sense, it-" There was lack of reason for Geralt to continue speaking, as y/n sprung up, the blanket flowing down from her shoulders, baring her body cold to the crisp air, as her hands clasped both sides of Jaskier's face, and pressed her lips to his.
The witcher cringed, turning away as the pair practically ate the other's face, like starved animals that had been distanced for many years, which in their case was true. "Do you know if the curse is broken, is there any indicator if so?"
A hum fell from y/n's mouth as Jaskier's hand traced the curve of her spine, causing Geralt to scoff. That was the only response he earned, and to a high stake, it disgusted him. "I think I'm just gonna let you two have some time to yourselves, I guess we will see in the morning if you're being mawled by a bear you flippant."
And thus he walked away, leaving the two to pursue their primitive instincts, under the blessed moon, and on the routed curfew on the dark and dead land of Arafell.
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