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#still took a two year battle to get assessed
earhartsease · 2 years
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honestly I'd really like to see the #ActuallyAutistic tags changed to #ActuallyDiagnosed since that seems to be what people really mean, and given how difficult/expensive it is to access assessment and diagnosis, the number of undiagnosed and actually autistic people probably far outweigh the diagnosed ones
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yuriisclumsy · 22 days
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Hi im still not sure if this is how you request😅😅
But can you please write a scenario about a reader who is very flirty with cale and always having a way to insert flirty lines into their conversation while cale just ignores it (secretly liking it) but one day he had enough and responds to a flirty line that the reader just said which leads to the reader being shocked. Also bonus if the fam also actually sees it HAHAHAHA
Thanks for reading🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️
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Who's The Teaser Now?
»»►In this scenario I like to think [Name] has been a servant of Cale’s for years. Like, she saw him when the two were teens , and was like “Well damn, hot momma. You lookin’ fine tonight,” like a high school girl drooling for her crush. And the rest is history.
»»►Having [Name] flirt with you for YEARS makes you unreactive to her remarks; immune to any of her advances. But one day, because he was feeling festive, he decided to reply to one of [Name]’s many flirty lines.
»»►And let me tell you. [Name]. Was. SHOCKED. Pikachu style.
»»►Now we jump to the present.
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Cale was on his way to relax in Heris Village, where his villa resided, after the battle with Arm in the Hais Islands. Only to have it disturbed not even two minutes into the carriage ride back to the Henituse Territory, by none other than [Name] the Simp.
She first started soft, asking if he was alright after the battle: “You didn’t get injured, right?” To: “Well, just WHO would even hurt such a refined gentleman such as yourself, Oh young and handsome Master Cale?”
Now Cale was starting to get pissed. He just wanted a nice, AND QUITE, ride back. But no, he just had to hear your annoying voice…. 
Oh. An idea just crossed his mind.
Let’s see if this will resolve his problem, even if there is a possibility of it backfiring. 
“Y’know Master Cale, every girl in the Henituse Territory is now DYING to see your pretty face. Especially after getting that fancy title of yours. A title, which I must say, is rather fitting of you, young master. Honestly, I’m so lucky that I can just admire it whenever you call me. If you asked me to marry you I wouldn’t even think for a second and just say yes. Truly, a dream come true!” [Name] was making his, On’s, Hong’s, and Raon’s ears fall off with how much she was talking.
Ah! Wait a second. This was the perfect opportunity! 
“Oh yeah?” Cale started, “If I were to fall on my knee and ask you for your hand, would you accept in a heartbeat?” He asked as one curious gaze and two unsure gazes fell on him.
[Name] just looked at Cale, unsure at why he was asking. Usually he just orders her to do something to get her away, or simply ignores her altogether.
“Uhh-uhh..yeah?” She answered.
“Then you don’t mind if I do this then,” he said, getting down on one knee in the moving carriage. 
At this point [Name]’s eyes were wide, almost to the point they might pop out her sockets.
Cale took her right hand and looked up to meet her eyes. With a wide smile he asked, “[Name] [Last Name], will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man alive, and give me your hand in marriage?” He finished.
The children looked at him like he had a loose screw. Had he finally a lost it after not getting a break to be a slacker? Was this his limit? [Name] had an unreadable expression. Almost concerning.
Did I go too far? Cale asked in his head while assessing her expression. What scares me the most is that she isn’t saying anything cheezy inturn, a sweat drop apparent in his face, falls.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
A screeching yell was heard from inside the compartment. The carriage stopped and those outside came running to aid–in what their opinion was a threat–those inside the carriage.
“Young Master Cale! Is everyone alright?! What happened—!?” Choi Han asked in a hurry, swinging the door of the carriage wide open, sword in hand. Only to see Cale kneeling on the floor of the carriage with a [Name] crunched up on the corner of the seat opposite to the door.
What happened? 
All everyone could see was a girl that looked like she was dying slowly in a corner, and a young Master that probably fell from his seat after the carriage suddenly stopped. 
To not make things more awkward, Cale spoke.
“Ah, you guys,” he got their attention, “go back. [Name] just saw a bug. So there is no need to worry.” He skillfully lied, sitting back up.
“...if you insist,” getting a hesitant response from Choi Han, and some worried looks from the others. 
All the while Ron is just smiling in the back. We all know he knows what happened.
Going back to their positions, the carriage started moving again. Only this time, it was quiet. Just how Cale liked it. He looked at the source of the blissful peace to see the girl still in a crouched up position.
“Huff, where did that ‘say yes in a heartbeat’ go?” Cale asked the girl, getting that last remark for his triumph.
In response, all he heard was a muffled “Shut up…!” from her.
Red hues adorned her ears, indicating she was blushing. She was trying so hard to hide her face with her arms and legs too.
How cute.
No wonder [Name] enjoyed doing this to him, being the one on the teaser end is certainly amusing.
He smiled, looking out the window, deciding not to tease her anymore to save her from more embarrassment.
He should turn this into a hobby after seeing that expression on her face.
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Hello, lovelies! I hope you enjoy this. Surprisingly I wrote this in two days...fascinating.
𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @lureslutes, @cruzerforce4256, @narcise63, @potterhead-whovian-117, @margieee194, @zenix108, @vimenorie, @lunavixia, @potterhead-whovian-117, @alithurism. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Lout of Count's Family for more updates.
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voiceoffenrisulfr · 2 months
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Slam
Following an injury in the field, Bucky goes to check on Steve in the infirmary and confesses his feelings and his fears.
CW: Minor injury, smut, first time. Don’t forget to use lube, folks – unless you’re a super soldier.
Prompts used;
‘Bad Coping Mechanisms’, ‘Mutual Pining’ and ‘Wall Sex’ – Build-a-Bucky Bingo (@buckybarnesevents);
“You Look So Pretty Like This.” and ‘Muscles’ – @stuckybingo;
“I’m Right Where I Belong.” and “You Getting Flustered is One of the Cutest Things I’ve Seen.” – @sebastianstanbingo.
Check it out on AO3 here, or below! Boards at the bottom. Banner by @sarahowritesostucky
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Bucky raced through the corridors, the serum’s power flowing through him as his feet pounded the linoleum, heart hammering in his chest.
As soon as the news of Steve’s injury had reached him, he’d been up and running, with fear he hadn’t felt in decades pulsing in his veins. Ever since Steve had been bulked up in the war, Bucky had been able to slowly let go of the terror for Steve’s longevity that had plagued him since he’d met the kid at six years old, scrawny but surprisingly bold – and prone to getting his ass kicked. But the serum Steve had received had made the once-tiny man a hulking mass of muscle and sinew, invulnerable to most things thrown at him, and Bucky had finally been able to relax a little – though he still worried about his childhood friend more than any other member of the team.
Bucky blamed it on their longstanding connection and the camaraderie born from being the only two super soldiers, both displaced from their own time by time in ice (and servitude, in Bucky’s case). It was a miracle they were both here, together, a hundred years in the future and experiencing things they never even dreamt of.
That was it, Bucky argued, when he lay awake at night thinking of the skinny kid from Brooklyn, the strong man he’d grown into. He argued it was appreciation of the smooth curves of muscle that had him fantasising about the water flowing over his back when he’d glimpsed him in the shower after a training session. It was simply concern that had him inspecting his Captain’s bare chest when his suit had been ripped in battle, checking thoroughly for cuts and scrapes.
He'd argued, but it was as he was skidding to a halt and slamming through the infirmary doors that it finally hit him that his argument was a lie.
The sight of Steve lay on the thin medical paper, his back to the doors as Bruce finished stitching a deep wound above his hipbone, had Bucky pausing and panting for breath. It’d been a long time since he’d managed to move so quickly that he was forced to breathe harder, but his strides had barely touched the floor as he’d flown towards his teammate.
“Hey, Buck.”
The Winter Soldier cocked his head sharply, smiling just a little to himself as he saw Steve’s muscles relax minutely. “How did you know it was me?”
“Heard you running. Anyone else would be far more breathless – and definitely couldn’t move so fast.” The grin in Steve’s voice was audible, and Bucky chuckled, moving closer slowly.
“Yeah, well. Nat messaged, and she wasn’t liberal with the details. All I knew was that you’d been hurt.”
“Worried, were you?” Steve’s shoulders trembled as he laughed silently, making Bucky snort as he rounded the table, casting an assessing eye over the shallow lacerations marring the Captain’s bare chest as he took a seat.
“Actually, I was hoping to get here in time to pull the plug,” Bucky quipped, grinning, and Steve rolled his eyes affectionately.
“Your life wouldn’t be worth living without me in it, and you know it,” Steve teased back, lips quirked in a fond smile before he grimaced as the doctor tied off his thread. Buck reached out automatically, squeezing Steve’s hand reassuringly, heat tingling up his palm at the contact. He’d done this dozens of times as a youth, Steve’s fingers clinging desperately to his as the larger boy had carefully cleaned yet another split lip or scraped palm, but it felt different now, with Steve’s palm comparable to his and Bucky’s metal fingers cool against his skin – and Steve’s pulse beginning to pound at the contact.
“I’m all done here,” Bruce murmured, gently pressing an adhesive bandage to the suture line. “Keep it covered and dry for a few days, and the stitches should dissolve in a week or so. You’ll be good as new by then.” The doctor grinned, shaking his head fondly. “If only all of my patients recovered so quickly!”
Steve chuckled obligingly, pulling the edge of his suit a little higher to obscure both bandage and sharp curve of bone. “You’d be out of a job, Dr. Banner. Thanks again,” he added as Bruce rose, receiving a polite inclination of the head for his gratitude.
The boys were left alone, fingers still entwined together, Steve fiddling with the ragged edges of his clothing idly. “I’m gonna have to get a new suit… This one got pretty shredded.”
Bucky laughed, running a palm over the lacerated star hanging over the edge of the table. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I got thrown. Road rash sucks,” the Captain replied with a shrug, and groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “But you heard Bruce – I’ll be good as new in a few days.”
James nodded, eventually releasing his friend’s hand with a discreet twitch of his jaw. “Yeah. You were always the strong one.” Steve snorted and raised an eyebrow, considering his fellow soldier pointedly, but Bucky only laughed and shook his head. “Maybe, when we were younger, I could pick up something heavier than you. But you were always so… Tough. You weren’t scared of anything.” He smiled softly, head tilted minutely. “Actually, no. You were scared, but you always stood up for yourself anyway. You never let anyone keep you down or underestimate you. That’s real strength.”
Steve chuckled, his cheeks pinkening minutely as he looked away. “Not always,” he muttered, hands knotting uncertainly in his lap. “There were some things I just… I didn’t fight when the insults and assumptions started flying.”
“The assumptions?” Bucky repeated softly, head cocked. When Steve only shrugged, Bucky leaned forward conspiratorially. “You getting flustered is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”
Steve blinked in surprise, his back straightening nervously. “I-I… What?”
Bucky smiled softly, leaning a little closer. “Those assumptions… Do you mean the ones about your sexuality?”
Steve hesitated for a moment, eyeing his friend nervously. “… You heard about that?”
The sergeant arched an eyebrow, head inclined. “Of course, Stevie. You’re my best friend. Besides… We spent a whole lot of time together. It wasn’t just you that they made those assumptions about.”
“I’m sorry,” Steve replied quickly, looking away as guilt creased his features, but Bucky simply chuckled.
“Don’t be. They were right.”
The words sat in the still air for a moment before they collided visibly with the Captain, sending him jerking backwards in shock.
“They- You- … What?” Steve stammered, his eyes widening in shock.
“I’m gay,” Bucky replied easily, shrugging. “Well, no – I’m bisexual. But we both know it’s not the women you were asking about.” Steve’s mouth worked wordlessly, and Bucky smirked. “So? What about you? Were they right about you, too?”
Steve glanced around uncertainly, examining the empty space as if checking for someone hiding in the shadows. “… Why did you come so quickly, Buck?”
“I asked you first.”
“I’m trying to answer. Humour me. Why did you come so quickly?” he repeated, looking down to where his fingers were knotted in his lap.
“Because… Because I care about you?” Bucky offered uncertainly, and Steve nodded, eyes diverted.
“As a friend?” he prompted quietly. Bucky hesitated for a moment, watching as his Captain struggled silently to find the words he was looking for. “… I’m not gay, Buck.” The sergeant blushed minutely, opening his mouth to respond, but Steve held up a hand to stop him. “But I’m not straight, either. I… I’ve only ever wanted to be with – been in love with – one person. After all these years… It’s still only ever been one person.”
Bucky sat silently for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, apprehensive. “Who?”
“Don’t make me say it,” Steve replied, a wry grin quirking at his lips.
Bucky reached out, fingers finding his best friend’s once more, swallowing nervously. “Tell me, Stevie. Please.”
Steve glanced up at last, the brush draining from his cheeks with the sincerity of the moment, ice meeting cerulean in an all-encompassing gaze. “You, Bucky. It’s always been you.”
The words released a feral urgency in his fellow soldier, moving forward to kiss him in a clash of lips and tongues, a low whine escaping the brunette as he tangled his metal fingers in the other’s hair.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Bucky muttered, shifting to trail kisses over the broader man’s jaw, his free hand finding Steve’s hip to pull him closer. “I can’t believe I wasted so much time trying to bury my feelings in drinking and whoring…”
Steve nodded weakly, head instinctively tipping back under his sergeant’s rapturous ministrations. “I-I… I never knew you… I never expected…” He swallowed audibly, hips twitching as his arousal became ever more evident under the skin-tight material of his uniform. Bucky let out a quiet groan of desire, fingers trailing over Steve’s hipbone slowly – but the blond grasped his wrist as his fingertips brushed against his increasingly stiffening length. “Wait.”
Bucky winced, drawing back with a quick, apologetic shake of his head. “I-I’m sorry. We don’t have to, of course, I-”
Steve kissed his lover softly to interrupt him, shaking his head with a smile. “I want to,” he breathed, his fingers finding the back of Bucky’s neck to press their foreheads together. “I’ve just- I… I’ve never…”
Bucky’s face went blank as comprehension dawned, lips parting minutely. “You… Oh.” A smile flickered across his features, and he cupped Steve’s jaw gently. “That’s fine, sweet boy. We go as slow as you like, and do as much or as little as you want. It’s all up to you.”
Steve nodded slowly, then more firmly, and pulled Bucky back to him by the neck of his t-shirt, crushing his lips desperately against the taller man’s.
Buck’s hands were gentle as they explored the Captain’s bare chest, tracing the dips and curves of bone and muscle reverently, mapping each detail and committing every modicum of minutiae to memory – just in case. Steve shivered under his touch, the hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck drawing him closer as he lay back, gasping at the thigh that pressed lightly against his throbbing length.
“Buck, please,” he whispered, tugging gently at the other man’s shirt, purring with delight when the material was shed and dropped to the floor. His hands fumbled with the taller man’s belt, hesitating only minutely before pressing a palm to Bucky’s boxer-clad member and blushing shyly at the relieved groan the motion elicited.
Buck’s lips trailed slowly along jaw and throat, over Steve’s collarbone, proceeding patiently over chest and stomach. Bucky’s knees met the floor as his fingers curled in the waistband of the other man’s underwear. He glanced up to receive clarification, and when he was offered a nod, nervous but sure, he slowly slid Steve’s boxers down, trailing gentle kisses in their wake. When he looked up again to take in his Captain in all his glory, his mouth ran dry, tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. He rocked on his heels for a moment, enjoying the sight for a little longer before falling forward, growling hungrily. His mouth encompassed Steve’s length quickly, eliciting a gasp and a whimper from the soldier pinned to the table, his hands tangling frantically in Bucky’s wild hair.
“I- Oh, Buck, th-that’s so…” Steve trailed off into a desperate moan, his back arching instinctively to press himself deeper. Bucky, in his experience, simply swallowed around his amateur partner’s erratic thrusts to take him into his throat, hands finding his hips to help smoothen his pace, earning a quiet, stammering exclamation for his efforts. The feeling of Bucky’s tongue massaging the underside of his cock as it passed between expert, kiss-flushed lips had him quivering and mewling uselessly until the sergeant pulled back, oceanic eyes dancing with joy. “Good?”
Steve all but sobbed in his pleasure, raising his head to nod weakly. “A-Amazing. Please, honey, Buck… I want… I need…”
“Anything you want, baby boy,” Bucky purred, wrapping a loose, coaxing hand around Steve’s length while he spoke – but unable to keep from leaning in intermittently to pass tongue or lips over the leaking tip, delighting in the gasps and jerks the simple gesture invoked. “You just say the word, and I-”
“I want to make love to you,” Steve interrupted softly, pink tinging his cheeks as he spoke, his twitching cock betraying his enthusiasm. Bucky blinked in surprise before smiling tenderly with an amused shake of his head.
“And here I’d had you pinned as a bottom… What a pleasant surprise,” Bucky breathed, powerless to stop one of his hands from grinding against the straining in his sweatpants desperately, eyes blown wide with lust. “I’ve thought about you fucking me so many times…” He winced minutely, expecting a reprimand from his straight-laced captain for his language, but the blond simply smiled.
“I may be inexperienced, Buck, but I’ve overheard enough sleeping in the room next to Tony’s to expect a little cussing in these situations.”
Bucky simply nodded, standing to pull his shirt over his head, and Steve gulped. He’d seen the brunette in varying degrees of undress on countless occasions, but always he had kept his eyes diverted and downcast, never looking up for fear he would give himself away. But now he could let his gaze roam freely, taking in the curve of the sinew and muscle, of strong arms and well-defined pecs, his expression softening minutely as he took in the puckered ridge of scar where flesh met metal. Bucky shifted self-consciously, raising a hand to rub uncertainly at the marred skin, and Steve pushed himself quickly to his feet, catching the other man’s fingers. “Hey… You’re beautiful, he whispered, dropping his head to pepper kisses along the seam reverently.
Bucky stiffened infinitesimally, relaxation gradually easing the tension in his muscles, a soft sigh escaping parted lips as his eyes closed. “I want you, Steve,” he breathed, fingertips trailing through the short hair adoringly.
Steve could only nod in response, hands fumbling with Bucky’s belt as he dropped to his knees, one flushed, pink lip pulled between his teeth. His breath ghosted over the bulge in the sergeant’s boxers, making the taller man shiver with delight. With a slow, nervous exhale, he wrapped his fingers in Bucky’s waistband, eyes widening minutely as the soldier’s cock was freed at last. Bucky smirked, hand resting gently on Steve’s head, letting out a quiet groan as the barest flick of a tongue passed over his tip. “Please, baby boy, I need you to-”
Bucky’s words were interrupted by his own sharp yelp as Steve clumsily but enthusiastically took him, his inexperience making him gag at the depth, but he recovered to bob his head just as eagerly. The taller man groaned, hand knotting in pale strands, head falling back as he attempted to guide his needy lover into smoother motions, but Steve grasped desperately at his hips, still frantically attempting to take Bucky’s length deeper. “Easy, Stevie,” he breathed, shifting one hand to cup the other man’s jaw tenderly, smiling at the soft whine around his cock. “You really want it deeper, hm?” Steve blinked balefully up at him, tongue still eagerly caressing every inch available, and the sergeant chuckled quietly, gently raising Steve’s chin slightly. “Swallow,” he murmured, pushing forward slowly, using the rhythmic motion of his lover’s obedience to sheath himself fully in Steve’s throat with a shudder. “Fuck, baby boy- so goddamn hot… You look so pretty like this…” His eyes found the other man’s, the pale blue shining with joy, lips parted wide around his cock, and Bucky could have come undone simply at the sight. Steve could only mewl with satisfaction, lashes flickering in pleasure as Bucky rocked his hips, driving his length into his Captain’s throat before drawing back just far enough to let him snatch a breath.
It didn’t take long for the brunette’s muscles to begin to tremble and clench, incensed by the sight of his lover stretched and kneeling before him. The fingers in his hair tensed, and Steve’s eyebrow twitched questioningly. “I-I can’t- I’ll- I can’t hold out,” Bucky stuttered, the rock of his hips become spasmodic – but Steve simply dug his fingers into the other man’s flesh, groaning encouragingly. Bucky hissed with the realisation, free hand joining the first, holding Steve’s head still as his thrusts became more forceful. The feeling of soft whimpers vibrating around his length spurred him on, and he stammered out a quick warning before burying himself deeply, fingernails catching  against scalp as he pinned his submissive Captain against him. “Fuck, Steve- Stevie!”
Steve’s eyes closed in pleasure as his sergeant emptied with a guttural groan, swallowing eagerly, licking his lips as his trembling partner drew back at last. “Thank you,” Bucky breathed, unclenching his hand to smooth the messy blond strands tenderly. Steve opened his eyes to meet his gaze, hesitating only briefly before scrambling to his feet to pin the brunette to the wall, earning a grunt of surprise and a dry gulp.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Cap growled, one hand wrapping lightly around his sergeant’s throat, smiling when a quiet whimper and desperate nod came in response. Bucky groaned as he was turned quickly, hands flat to the wall and ass offered willingly, the Captain’s cock pressing against him teasingly. Steve spat in his palm and slicked his length quickly, one hand steadying himself with his lover’s hip as he lined himself up.
“Please- Please, Stevie, I need you, I want you- please, just-” Bucky moaned needily as Steve pressed inside him roughly, his forehead finding the other man’s metal shoulder as he groaned.
“Bucky- Buck, honey, you feel so good…” he grunted, dragging out slowly before slamming home once more. Slowly at first, the movements of his cock inside the taller man felt incredible, the spark of discomfort from the lack of preparation or real lubricant fading quickly until Bucky was rutting back desperately, trying in vain to increase the pace. “Sweet boy, you’re so eager!”
“Yes- God, yes Sir, please, Stevie- Cap, I need you to fuck me, baby boy,” Bucky panted, fingers curling against the plaster. Steve’s fingers found his, pinning his metal hand to the wall either side of his head, while the other wrapped around his already-stiffening cock, stroking him in time as he thrusted harder. Bucky yelped in surprise, back arching. He’d been fucked many times in his life – but never by someone whose strength parallelled his own, his very bones creaking under the strain as Steve pounded against him with bruising ferocity.
Steve was lost in the heat fizzing through his veins; there was nothing but this, the feeling of Bucky wrapped around him, tight and hot, the air full of the scent of sex and the lewd sounds falling from their lips. This was everything he’d ever wanted, and he found his body reacting automatically, knowing just what to do as he drove himself deeper, their hands on the wall creating cracks in the plaster under the power.
“So beautiful – so good, James – I love you,” Steve groaned, fisting his sergeant’s cock faster as he felt his climax approaching, too far gone and too eager to slow down, to take his time in this. Bucky simply whimpered in response, his forehead pressed to the plaster, soft sobs of overwhelming pleasure falling from his lips between pleas and gratitude, rutting  back against each perfect thrust. “Please- Stevie, fuck, just like that- I-I’m going- I-” His spine arched as he came without warning, painting both his lover’s hand and the wall before him, muscles clenching around Steve’s length.
Steve wrapped an arm around his partner’s waist, dragging him against his chest as he fucked him harder still, groaning out a plea for mercy into Bucky’s throat as he finally, blissfully, emptied himself inside his sergeant.
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Bucky lay panting with his head on Steven’s chest, sweat-damp and exhausted, his backside bruised, entirely blissful.
“D’you want to get up?” Steve murmured, tracing his fingers gently down his lover’s spine, earning a lazy shake of the head.
“I’m right where he belong,” Bucky whispered in response, pressing a tender kiss to the bare skin under his cheek.
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ailendolin · 2 months
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Since the announcement that two or three new versions of Ghosts are in the works, I've been thinking about what sort of ghosts we might get to see / I'd like to see in a German adaptation and put together a list of my ideas. You will see some similarities with our beloved original ghosts as well as completely new characters, and I did my best to find a balance between male and female characters and include a variety of historical eras.
This is obviously just a very basic list with some notes but I do have thoughts about these characters (how they died, what powers they might have, their inner conflict etc.) so if you'd like to know more, please ask (also German producers, I hereby officially volunteer as tribute writer)!
German Ghosts
Female Neanderthal (40,000 BC)
Neanderthals were named after the German Neander valley so I think it's only fair to include a Neanderthal in the show. Since no one needs a Robin 2.0, I'd make the character female and give her a dog because ghost animals are fun and we need more of them.
Roman & German (9 AD)
Two guys - let's call them Marcus and Alber - who fought on opposite sides died in the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest, became ghosts and eventually best friends. They'd rather die again than admit that to anyone, though.
Bog Girl (600 AD)
A little girl who haunts the marshlands around the house but not the property itself. Most of the ghosts avoid her until the Naturalist gets curious and starts to befriend her.
Plague Ghosts (Mid-1600s)
A group of victims of the 30 Years' War whose deaths were caused by famine and disease and not the war directly (though they insist they died 'in the war').
Naturalist (Late 1700s)
A scientist like Alexander von Humboldt and Charles Darwin who embraces becoming a ghost from the get go and does various experiments (on himself and the others) to figure out how ghost rules work and what is and isn't possible.
Composer (Early 1800s)
A young composer who has a (perceived) rivalry with Beethoven because he's lost part of his hearing. Think German equivalent of Thomas Thorne.
Female Soldier (Early 1800s)
Based on stories like that of Friederike Krüger, this woman posed as a man and joined the army during the Napoleonic Wars.
Woman in White (Late 1800s)
The lady of the house at the time. After she died in childbirth, she was forced to watch her husband's mistress raise her daughter. She died wearing her white nightgown (something she is quite embarrassed about) and can be seen in pictures.
WW1 Surgeon (1930s)
Another former owner of the house, this man was a surgeon in WW1 and still carries the trauma of that time with him (think Siegfried from All Creatures Great and Small).
Luftwaffe Pilot (1940s)
Remember the two German pilots from BBC Ghosts? This guy was their friend and has always wondered what happened to them. He crash-landed on the grounds during a training exercise.
Estate Agent (early 2020s)
A woman who took over the house after the last owner passed away. While assessing the property, she had a heart attack and died there, leading to rumours about the house being cursed and haunted increasing.
The House
While the house will probably be a manor house like in the original series, I think it would be fun if this version of the show shook things up a little and had the German Coopers inherit an old mill, or perhaps even an actual (small) castle.
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arvensimp · 11 months
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your father should know, pt. 3
Arven leaves you with something more than either of you bargained for when he goes off to Kalos for an internship, and through a series of miscommunications and heartbreak, he returns a few years later to learn that he actually has a child.
arven x fem!reader, nsfw content (in pt. 1), pregnancy (pts. 1, 2, & 2.5), angst, and stupid miscommunications
[part 1][part 2][part 2.5]
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY I'M BACK. pls be aware that this got WAY too long so it's gonna have to be another part or two before we actually get to the happy ending that i promised. yes this will still have a happy ending. i won't hurt arven or the baby like this lolol. the skeleton for the rest of the fic is already written, i just need to flesh it out, given it some muscle, organs, and maybe cute accessories.
ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS PART. please thank my mega awesome beta Katie for her help with this too. she's my rock.
---
The ceiling rattles.
"So. How'd you get here today?"
"I, uh... I took my cyclizar?"
Rika nods and takes note of the answer. The not-so-distant sound of muffled battling can be heard through the thick walls of the League building.
"What brings you to the Pokemon League today?" Rika goes on as if nothing is happening.
"Badda!" The little one sitting on her lap shouts. Rika pats his head without looking away from the student in front of her. "Shh. Let her answer my questions first."
Basil babbles a bit in response, some of his words making sense.
"To...become a champion?" The student replies.
"Good, good..." Rika continues on with the rest of the interview, asking different questions and going back and forth with the kid in front of her.
"Okay," She says later, now addressing Basil. "Now you can ask her a question."
"What?" The student asks.
"Not you." Rika corrects tersely. "Go on, Munchkin. Ask the champ-in-the-making whatever you want."
"Um... " Basil seems to think for a moment, but then he gets shy and hides his face against Rika's torso.
The student blanches. "I... I-I'm sorry? Did I do something wrong?"
"Pssh, nah. He just gets timid sometimes is all. But let's see..." Rika leans into Basil and speaks soft and sweet to him. "Whaddya think, Munchkin?" She gives his tummy a bit of a tickle, making him laugh and open up a bit. "Does this kid pass our test?" Rika keeps tickling him as he shrieks with laughter.
"Uh....Is...is that a yes?" The student eventually asks.
Rika pauses, then stands with all the pomp and importance of one in her station, propping the baby up in her arms.
"Yeah, I'd say so." She announces casually, in stark contrast to the serious air she feigned just a moment ago. "Congrats, Kid. You've passed your first test." She holds out a hand to shake and makes sure that Basil also gets to shake too.
Never too soon to start teaching the ins and outs of professionalism or whatever.
"Before you move on to the next step, you'll just need to wait a few minutes for his mama to finish her battle with one of your peers. Once she has him back, I can start your battle test. Sound good?"
The student nods, and sure enough within a few minutes, you arrive through the elevator and greet the room cheerily.
"We've got quite a few challengers today, it seems!" You announce as you take Basil from Rika. The boy had been making grabby hands for you the moment the elevator doors had opened, speaking in broken little syllables of his desire to be in your arms again.
You boop his little nose and smoosh your mouth to his pudgy cheeks in a kiss. "I wasn't gone that long, Sweet Boy!" You tell him. "Were you good for Auntie Rika?"
You look to the woman in question for her assessment.
"He did great. He's getting a real knack for these interviews, I tell you what. Asks some pretty insightful questions, right, Kid?" She says jokingly, turning to the student.
"What?" The kid looks between the three of you. "Oh! Um. ...What? Is this another test?"
Rika laughs. "Everything here is a test."
The student blanches a bit. "Oh... Then. Um. What was the question again?"
Rika ruffles the kid's hair. "Yeah, that's about par for the course. Don't worry about it. You're doing fine." She turns to face you. "For real though, Basil was great. He ate all his snacks and took a great long nap earlier and slept through all the noise of the battling. Super well behaved.” You smile at the comments, your heart swelling with pride as Rika goes on. “So you're headed out then?"
You nod, adjusting Basil on your hip as he starts to fiddle with a button on his overalls.
"Yup. Today's the day!"
Rika whistles. "Well good luck. Lemme know if you end up needing anything, yeah?"
You nod. "Thanks, will do. It should be fine though. Basil, say 'bye-bye!'"
"Bye-aye!" He mimics, waving at Rika.
"Say 'Good luck, Challenger!'"
"Goobuh, tsaduh!"
You laugh and ruffle his hair while the student gives him a determined thumbs up.
"Good job." You murmur into his sweet little head.
You grab the rest of yours and Basil's things and leave the Pokemon League building. You thought it'd do your team some good to get some energy out before their big event today, so you convinced Rika to let you take on some of the Champion Testing battles.
Within an hour or so, you're in the meadows out by Medali with a picnic set up.
Basil is seated in a bouncing little chair that meets the height of the picnic table, and you're finishing up the preparation of food for him and the pokemon.
You kneel down to help him handle his sippy cup.
"Are you excited, my littlest?" You ask him, as he babbles happily. "I'm excited, too."
It had taken you a decent amount of time to build up your courage to quite this stage.
Sure, all your Pokemon met Basil back when he was just a little potato of a thing, barely had his eyes open and could really only eat, sleep, cry, and sometimes pull your hair. But you knew back then that having your Pokemon out and about in the house, within the grasp of a little person who could easily get hurt or unintentionally piss them off was a recipe for trouble.
So your Pokemon were temporarily kept separate from your son for everyone's sake. Of course you still saw them and cared for them and battled with them, but never when Basil was around.
Now he's...he's more like a real person. Now he can run around and play. He's still learning words, but he has thoughts and can speak for himself and understand many things about the world around him. Sometimes so much so that it surprises you!
So. You can trust him enough and teach him how to behave around Pokemon.
You know your team as well as, if not better than, you know your son. You know they won't hurt him.
Still... Tinkaton's hammer is so heavy...and Skeledirge's flames burn so hot... And Raidon...
But no!
You can't keep your loves apart like this any longer!
It feels like it's been ages.
You look back to Basil and swipe your thumb across his cheek where some juice left him sticky.
"Oh, you sweet creature. Are you ready to meet Mama's friends?"
"Mama!" He chatots back to you.
"Okay, Basil." You lay out all six PokeBalls before him. "Take your pick for who you wanna meet first, okay?"
Your boy regards the PokeBalls with shining, eager eyes. He's seen these before. Chubby fingers grasp at a red and white ball. Your oldest.
"Oooh, that's a good one, my love." You say, rolling the ball gently along the table's surface with a single finger, though never removing it from Basil's grip.
"My very, very best friend is inside here." You lean in close and whisper dramatically, making Basil giggle. "But you won't tell the others, yea? He and I have been together for longer than anyone else. He's super excited to meet you. Wanna say hello?"
Basil nods.
"Can you hand me the PokeBall?"
He picks it up, having to hold it with both hands as he maneuvers the thing to your outstretched palm.
"Very good, Basil! Alright. Let's meet Skeledirge!"
You toss the ball into the air, with only a little more than your usual flare that you have when you battle, and the big, beautiful crocodile materializes with a thud on the ground in front of the table. It rears back on its hind legs and gives a mighty roar.
Basil, for his part, stands as best he's able in his chair, with you holding a supporting hand behind his back, to watch the spectacle, clapping his hands at the pokemon before him.
"Keledur!" He shrieks, delighted, before moving to climb down and onto the ground.
You lift him up easily enough and prop him against your hip, but Basil wants no part of being held when something so cool is nearby. "Whoa whoa whoa, wiggle wurmple." You tell him. "We gotta learn how to say hello to Skeledirge, yeah?"
"Hello, Skel'dur!" Basil mimics automatically, still squirming.
Skeledirge has the patience and wherewithal to stay planted while you wrangle the little one to stand in your lap as you sit cross legged in front of the Pokemon.
"Okay, Basil. Now, you need to be gentle with Pokemon. They're our friends, so we always need to be nice. Can you say 'nice'?" You take both of his hands in yours.
"Mm..." He corrects the sound. "Nnnnice!"
"Very nice! Good job! So when we pet Pokemon, we have to be very nice." You help him lean in toward Skeledirge, placing his hand on the Pokemon's nose, just to the side of the tiny firebird, which graciously hops out of the way. "See? Nice. Gentle..." You help him repeat the petting motion.
Basil squeals delightedly, petting Skeledirge's snout as he stomps his feet between your legs.
The Pokemon grumbles softly and shuts his eyes, relaxing into the ground a bit.
"Aw, Skel'dur go slee'?" Basil asks you, as he keeps petting the massive creature. "'Ats okay, Skel'dur. You go slee'. Shh... Shh..."
"Good job, Basil..." You tell him, whispering into the soft bits of fluffy hair behind his ears. "You're being so nice to Skeledirge! While he naps, do you wanna try and meet someone else?"
Basil turns to face you and nods excitedly, gripping the hem of his shirt in his little hands.
You stand and lead him back to the table where the other balls are.
Once again, Basil selects a red and white PokeBall. Briefly you wonder why he doesn't care for any of your specialty balls, but you decide not to question it.
He holds the thing tight in both hands.
"Okay, Bas', that's another really good one! I mean, they're all stellar, obviously, but this one is fun. This Pokemon and I also go way back. All the way back to..." Your heart clenches a bit, but you push past it quickly. "The very start of my journey! A very special person gave me this Pokemon."
Is it bad that you haven't brought up Arven to Basil yet? He isn't that old yet... Not even two yet. He hasn't asked about a papa or a daddy... So? You just kinda let it ride.
"How about you throw the PokeBall this time, huh? Give it a shot. Just throw the ball, hard as you can." You mime the motion to him.
Basil nods solemnly, looking to the ball, then he takes a deep breath and chucks it with a shout!
Or.
Well, he...
He kinda tries to chuck it.
In reality, the ball falls to the ground beneath his feet. It doesn't really matter though because the reddish glow of the releasing pokemon is still able to distance itself from the pair of you as Raidon materializes upright and gives a full body shake, making a chirring sound. 
Basil stands in awe of the dragon that towers over the pair of you.
"Big!" He shouts, and you laugh.
"Yup! It's a big pokemon! This is Raidon!" You pat the creature lovingly along its shoulder, encouraging it to return to all fours. It eyes Basil up and down curiously, tilting its head from side to side. The sight of your baby helps bring it back down to earth a bit, and once it's on all fours again, you kneel to Basil's level.
"Now Raidon is really cool because--"
Basil shrieks, and your heart jolts momentarily before you realize it's a cry of laughter as the pokemon presses its snout up against his chest, chittering happily at him.
Your gaze softens, watching Basil pet along the dragon's snout, just as he had with Skeledirge.
"Good job... We always wanna be nice to pokemon, yeah?" You eventually say, petting along Raidon's shoulder and back.
Basil nods but doesn't take his wide, shining eyes from the creature in front of him.
"So... One of the neat things about this Pokemon is that..."
-
Just like both of his parents, Basil falls in love with Pokemon quickly and whole-heartedly. He's just as eager to meet everyone else on the team as they are to meet him!
Basil makes sure to play nicely and pay keen attention, or as good attention as his developing brain can make out. When someone shuts their eyes, they've "gone to sleep," so they're done playing. If someone is bouncing around, they can still play! He especially likes trying to kick around the little ball you brought along with them.
The Pokemon are also all very gentle with him. Not that you doubted any of them, really. Well, maybe Tinkaton, a little bit... But even then! They seem to understand their strength and how to tone it down for play with a teensy human.
When the sun starts to set later that evening, and Basil's eyes start to droop as his hands lose their grip on the last few bites of his cut up sandwich, you decide it might just be time to head in.
You recall all the pokemon to their balls, pack up the picnic, tuck your boy into his stroller and get started on the trek back to your apartment.
-
You're not alone.
You're not alone.
You're not alone.
You repeat the phrase like a mantra.
You're not alone.
You know that.
Not in, like, a spiritual sense or whatever, or even in the literal sense. You're fully aware that you have your little boy with you nearly at all times.
But you're not alone in raising him.
There's Nemona and Rika who are consistently proving themselves and trying to outdo one another as Best Tía of All Time.
There's Clavell who is always happy to take Basil for an afternoon when you're busy on research business for the academy.
Even Larry has taken your boy once or twice. You recall once how he gave a small sort of half smile when he took the stroller from your hands and waved you off.
"It's fine." He'd said, "He makes good company at meals."
"He can barely talk?"
"Exactly."
So.
Yeah.
You're not alone in parenthood.
Except when you are.
And...you currently are.
It's late at night. Well past Basil's usual bedtime. Past any time you'd feel comfortable asking a friend for an extra set of hands.
You can't blame Basil. Not really.
This isn't his fault. He's a good, sweet boy. He isn't even two yet, and he's already so smart.
Sometimes you even forget how little he is because he's so smart and perceptive.
That's your fault.
So... Maybe you jumped the gun a bit.
Maybe it was too soon for Basil to have a pokemon of his own.
Maybe you didn't realize how tricky it was raising a pokemon in tandem with a toddler.
How was Basil to know that dog pokemon can't eat raisins?
How were you to know he'd figured out how to open up the pantry?
You'd only been in the other room for a few minutes, changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth when Basil had slowly pushed open your bedroom door, shuffling from foot to foot.
"Mama... Buddy frowed up..."
So...here you are, after a tearful admission on your son’s part, rushing your sweet baby's maschiff to the closest Pokemon Center.
Basil is inconsolable in your lap as the taxi flies. Your attempts to calm him fall on entirely deaf ears, partly due to the fact that he's crying so loudly that even the Taxi Driver can barely hear anything. You’ll have to tip him really well.
Basil is a good, sweet boy. He really is, but the situation isn’t aided in the slightest when he flails about in his tantrum, bashing your nose with one of his tiny fists more than hard enough to draw blood. Beyond the pain and having to hold back your own tears for your boy’s sake, you also have to calm the rage, the fear, the panic building in your heart that makes you want to scream. You also have to stanch the blood haphazardly, pressing your tender face to your shoulder, while Basil bawls out his apologies to you.
Maybe if someone else were around, someone could have been watching Basil while you changed.
Maybe if someone else was around, they could have stayed home with him while you rushed off to the Pokemon Center.
Maybe if someone else was around, they could have talked you out of letting your baby boy have a pokemon of his own.
Maybe if someone else was around, you could allow yourself to panic a bit, too.
As it stands, you need to be the sole pillar of support here. No one is here to give you a hanky to wipe at your nose or dab at the unshed tears in your eyes. No one can rub your back soothingly and let you know it’s okay, help you calm your racing heart. No one is there to help quell the nauseous churning in your stomach.
It hits you then that you’d been so busy today that you hadn’t eaten dinner. Again. An empty belly certainly didn’t help the situation.
You try to take a breath. At least, a breath through your mouth.
Buddy the Maschiff (newly hatched as of a few weeks ago from an egg that had been sitting in your box for so long you'd had no idea what was even inside) will be fine, you tell yourself. They'll get him to keep throwing up or whatever needs to happen to get the rest of the raisins out of his system.
Basil will be fine. Maybe a little scared, but fine.
You will be fine. You'll keep the food up higher. No, the raisins were plenty high. Basil pushed a chair. You'll lock the pantry. No, that's crazy, you don't want to restrict food like that. You'll... You'll...
You'll calm down after maybe a few hours of sleep and a snack, maybe. Then you'll be able to think straight again. Maybe.
It's hard doing this alone.
--
"Okay, I think I'm set to go then!"
"Aw, babe, that's great! You sure you don't want me coming along?"
Arven sighs, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "I'm fine, really. I'm just packing up the rest of my stuff from my old storage unit in Mesagoza and coming right back here."
"Coming back to me, you mean?" His companion brazenly flirts. Arven lets it slide. He opens the door of the company car and steps out to the rush of the Lumiose City airport.
"I'll see you when I get back."
"Text me, babe!" She pushes, smiling wide, but Arven is already walking away.
He doesn't... He doesn't mean to be distant to the clingy woman. He's just...a little nervous for this trip is all. Paldea was the only home he ever knew before now, and he finally got the courage to leave for this Kalosian job. He was ready to grow from beneath the shadows of his world renowned parents and League Champion friends. He was ready to find something for himself and come into his own! And he’s done that! He’s still doing that! But it came at the cost of seemingly all of his friends back in Paldea. After your argument and subsequent blocking, everyone else dropped off like venonats not terribly long afterward. It really stung, and it still stings. Arven isn’t entirely sure what to expect when he returns to his home region. Has anyone been following his success? Will anyone even be happy to see him? Should he really just lay low, pack up his stuff, and spirit himself away like he was never even there? Somehow a Galarian goodbye feels worse than not even trying to rekindle a connection with some of his old pals.
Then again, none of this is an excuse to be rude to the woman who gave him a ride. She's been nothing but nice to him the last few years, serving as his PR rep at Bon Applintit. Maybe he should be nicer? Maybe he should finally cave and take her out on that date she's been seemingly begging for... He assumes she probably has some hand in the neat little reputation he's built online for himself as this chef-influencer guy.
Not that he really thinks it totally suits him entirely, but folks seem to really like his content, especially when he pairs human and pokemon food together, showing off how amazing Mabosstiff is.
That's really what it is at the end of the day, he figures. Mabosstiff is the real star of the show.
Not that he's bad, or something! He’s put a lot of effort the last few years into unlearning some of his old, unhelpful thought patterns. It's just... People love dogs, and Mabosstiff is the best!
So he's really lucky. He's hit a pocket of internet fame, and the company is keeping him on longer than his current contract. Kalos has been kind to him so far... It seems like a good place to plant roots, so... He may as well pack up the last bits of his life from Paldea and haul it off now.
The flight to Mesagoza barely takes any time. Boarding and disembarking truthfully take longer than total time in the air, but that's fine.
Arven steps into the streets and...
He's pleasantly surprised by how nice it feels to hear his own language again.
Kalosian isn't bad. He's gotten much better at it, really, even if he wasn't great with foreign languages back in his classes with Salvatore...
Maybe he should thank him? Or apologize? No, thanking him would probably be better.
Plus, if he stops by the school, he could see Clavell and Saguaro.
He wouldn't have to walk by his old apartment next to his storage unit yet.
The last place he hung out with you.
He won't have to think about how you weirdly got angry and shut him out after he had to cancel a few video calls.
He won't have to think about how empty his old place is. How he misses all his peers in his age group. How everyone else ended up dropping off within the year after you blocked him.
He won't have to think about his parents' old belongings that he needs to either pack up and move or toss.
...Yeah, stopping by the academy to see some of his old teachers might be nice.
Plus, Mabosstiff might like to check out the old stomping grounds again.
Arven makes the turn toward the massive set of looming stairs and releases his pokemon from his ball. The dog, for his part, takes a moment to slowly swivel his head from side to side, as if not quite believing his surroundings. He looks up at his person and tilts his head, one of his ears flopping inside out.
Arven laughs and pats his head, fixing the ear in the process. "Yeah, Bud." He says with a smile. "We're ho--...back for a bit. Wanna go stop by school? I bet Saguaro will have some treats for you."
Mabosstiff boofs loudly and gives a bounce--or, as much of a bounce as a dog of his size can really give--before bounding up the stairs. The sight makes Arven laugh even louder, taking after his pokemon, but Mabosstiff is much faster. He gets to the mezzanine landing in no time flat before pausing, his nose held high in the air. Mabosstiff clearly sniffs for several seconds before catching the smell of something and taking off like a bolthund, not bothering to wait for Arven to meet him.
"Hey! Buddy!" The man shouts after his pokemon, picking up the pace, but Mabosstiff pays him no heed and is out of sight within seconds.
The rational part of Arven's mind knows that Mesagoza's Academy is a safe place for pokemon, and that Mabosstiff knows how to handle himself, but at the same time, he can't help but worry just the tiniest bit as he rushes onward and upward along the stairway to try and catch up.
The tiny seed of worry sprouts and grows when he hears Mabosstiff's growling bark and a tiny shriek of a cry not long after.
"Mabosstiff!" He shouts, finally scaling the last of the stairs, doing his best to stave off the feeling of being winded. He isn't the teenager who used to traverse the region anymore, after all. His eyes dart along the courtyard, looking for a massive black cloud along the grass.
"Mabosstiff!" He shouts again, before another screech draws his attention to one of the benches where his dog seems to be perched on top of something.
"Mabosstiff, stop that now!" He calls over, running toward the scene. As he approaches, Arven makes out a speck of yellow and brown yampering and trying to climb up Mabosstiff's back, nipping at his ear.
Upon closer inspection, it's a little maschiff, but Mabosstiff is hardly paying it any mind, his attention entirely focused on using some kid in a stroller as a lollipop. Said kid is the one yelling up a storm.
"Bud!" Arven scolds him, grabbing Mabosstiff by the scruff of his neck. "Down! Now!"
With a pathetic sound, Mabosstiff backs off, as do the sounds of the little one in the stroller, whose squeals die into giggles and fits of laughter.
Arven breathes a sigh of relief that the kid wasn't frightened of his massive dog and that the shrieks he was hearing were probably just laughing. He returns his dog to its pokeball as the maschiff whines.
By now, Arven’s got enough wit about him to look to the kid's parent.
"Hey, uh, I'm so sorry about that. I really don't know what got into my Mabo--" Arven's words die on his tongue when he sees that the kid's accompanying adult was none other than Director Clavell, giving him a look as if he's seen a ghost.
"Oh! Director! Hi!" Arven greets him, embarrassed. "Sorry, I... I actually was stopping by to catch up and say hello to you. I'm back in town for just a few days and I wanted to, uh...catch...up... but, uh... Wow," He says with an awkward smile, gesturing to the stroller without actually looking at it. "Y'know, it's funny, I spent so much time with you as a kid, while Mom and Dad were in lab, and now–"
"Yes, well, Master Arven..." Clavell interrupts him, blithely moving to the child in the stroller who is briefly blocked from view as the director fiddles a bit, no doubt wiping away Mabosstiff's drool and adjusting their hair, something Arven remembers him doing countless times to him as a little boy.
A moment later, Clavell stands back up, an icy indifference covering his face, a perfect match to the chill that settles in Arven's veins as he actually looks at the kid in the stroller. "I'd say you bear a striking resemblance to your father now. We must be going. Good day."
Clavell turns the stroller around, and Arven watches as his old teacher walks off with a toddler that looks like a carbon copy of...himself, complete with a tiny maschiff following along at their heels.
His head swims. What? Who's that kid? How did Clavell get him? Why does he look just like Arven? And what was with that comment about him looking like his dad now?
Arven numbly lifts a hand to his chin. Sure, he'd let his facial hair grow out a bit, but... What? Clavell knows how Arven feels about his dad. That...that had to be a dig at him, right? Did...did the facial hair look dumb? It couldn't look that dumb? No, what was this about? And who is this kid?
By the time Arven has recovered enough to move his stupid legs into the building that Clavell and the boy had disappeared into, bolting to the director's office, the door is locked, and he's informed that Clavell has already left.
Fuck... He... He needs an answer here. Something is very wrong.
Did his mom or dad have some other kid he didn't know about or something? And then he had, like, a sibling or half-sibling somewhere who was unloading their spawn on the director?
No, that’s outrageous.
Maybe the kid just...just happens to look just like Arven?
This is stupid to just guess about. He just needs to be able to talk to someone.
Arven hurriedly makes his way to the Home Ec room and knocks at the door where the familiar face of Mr. Saguaro greets him with a friendly smile.
"Arven! Hello, my boy! Do come in, come in! Would you like something to eat? I just made pokemon treats, and I’m sure your Mabosstiff would love one!" His voice booms as Arven is ushered inside and enveloped in a tight hug.
The sensation nearly knocks the wind out of him, not just because of Saguaro's strength and size but because...well, he truthfully wasn't expecting such a warm welcome after getting the cold shoulder from Clavell. Or, he had been hoping for a warm welcome from his father figure only to be met with what he can only describe as paternal disdain.
Arven hugs Saguaro back. "Hello, Sir..." He says softly, forcing back the lump in his throat. "I, uh... I was just in the area..."
"Oh?" Saguaro asks, disengaging and pulling up a pair of seats for them to chat at a table. "Well, I'd love an opportunity to catch up with one of my most successful students. Please, sit and tell me what brings you by."
It's tempting. It's... It's really, really tempting to sit and chat about Kalos and Bon Applintit and all the good things lately, but Arven can't get the thought of that kid out of his mind.
"Sir..." He starts. "I saw Director Clavell on my way in..."
"Yes?" Saguaro asks, prompting him to continue.
"It, uh, it looked like he was... Maybe babysitting?"
Saguaro's eyes go distant for a second and he sighs. "Ah, so you saw..."
"Yeah." Arven interrupts before his former teacher has a chance to continue. "Who was that? The kid, I mean? And, well, why was the director taking care of--"
"Arven..." Saguaro sighs and stands back up, placing a hand on his shoulder. It's a comforting gesture, warm and heavy, but when Arven meets his gaze, hoping to find some type of answer to his confusion, he's met with sadness and what almost feels like disappointment radiating from the larger man. "Arven, I don't think I should be the one to tell you anything about that little one..." He says, his tone matching that same disappointment in his eyes. "That's a conversation you'll need to have with the child's mother."
"His mother...?" Arven asks, flabbergasted, his mind racing about who that could possibly be.
Saguaro nods. "You might find her at the Pokemon League this time of day, if you're lucky. I assume you don't have her number anymore?"
"Anymore? Wait, Sir, I'm not following here... I seriously have no idea what's g--"
Then it hits him.
You.
He slept with you.
It was...well, almost three-ish years ago? So...the timing would work out for a toddler. Not that he really knows what kids look like at different ages, but...
A toddler.
His toddler.
His toddler?
Arven doesn't realize his knees buckled. All he knows is that he's sitting in a chair, presumably placed beneath him by Saguaro just in time, a mug of water in his hands, while his teacher rubs gently at his back.
"Arven? Son, are you okay?"
"Don't say 'son'..." Arven mumbles out, his hands shaking as he grips the cup with near-white knuckles. He feels bile churning in his stomach. "I... I gotta go to the League... She hasn't spoken to me since...since..." He's trying to do the math in his head, but there's a block there, and between the rush of nausea and extreme anxiety, he can't focus.
"I gotta go. Sorry. I mean, thanks." He says, standing unsteadily before rushing from the room, Saguaro's protests falling on deaf ears.
Luckily, the Pokemon League isn't terribly far from Mesagoza, and Arven can make the trip on foot fairly easily in under an hour.
The whole trip there, he's panicking internally.
Did you really have his kid? That's...that's not what he actually saw was it? Then...then who was that little boy? Whose was he?
Beyond that, why hadn't you told him? Was this why you got all bitchy and dropped off the face of the earth? Well, maybe it wasn't bitchy...maybe it was hormones? But still! You never told him! Sure, he had to cancel your video calls several times, but... But you still could have found a way to tell him! You didn't need to block him! Was this why everyone else shut him out, too?
Actually... It all kinda lined up now. You blocked him, then...some number of months later, everyone else stopped talking to him, too. Even Penny stopped sending him the occasional meme.
What the fuck. Everyone thinks he's a deadbeat dad.
He is a deadbeat dad.
Or...is he? Can he be a deadbeat dad if he didn't know? ...Maybe that makes it worse? Fuck.
Maybe you didn't want him around for any of this, and that's why you didn't tell him... You knew he'd be a shitty dad or something. After all, what kind of dad could Arven be when his own dad didn't even want him? 
No.
No, that's not right.
That's no way to think about any of this.
Something...
Something else has to be at play here.
Arven has talked himself down from the precipice by the time he's made it to the top of the hill on which the League building sits.
He's just about to open the door to enter when a smartly dressed person with long, teal hair exits, arms crossed and a stern look on their face.
"Hello. How can I help you today?" They ask formally.
"Hi, yeah. My name's Arven Sada-Turo. I'm looking for, uh..." He falters for a moment before giving your full name and title. It felt strange saying the whole thing out loud again, like lead on his tongue.
The person hums at him critically, then gestures with their chin back toward the building.
"Let's talk, Arven Sada-Turo."
He breathes a sigh of relief, following them through the doors.
"Oh, thank you so much. You know, I spent the last few years in Kalos, and I just came back today, so--"
"You've been in Kalos?" The person--Rika, according to the nameplate and pronouns on her desk--says. "Kalos is pretty nice. You must've been having a great time over there." She goes on, taking a seat and folding her hands in front of her.
"I, uh..." Arven eyes her, unsure. "I was... Um, I just came back to, um... Actually, is she gonna be here soon?" He asks, confused.
"Please." Rika gestures to the chair across from her desk. "Have a seat. We can have a chat while we wait for my dear friend, yeah?" She asks, her eyes narrowing like a Luxray.
"Um... Sure..." Arven says, sitting down uneasily. "So, she'll be down? I, uh, haha... I never bothered completing the League challenge while I was in school, so..." He looks around the lobby. "I dunno where she might...um...be..ya know, in the building..."
"Yeah, don't worry about it," Rika speaks over him glibly, leaning back, crossing her ankles up on her desk. "I just wanna talk for a second. So you just decided to come back to Paldea to see my dear, sweet friend? Just a little pleasure call, or...?"
Arven splutters. "Excuse me?"
"I'm just trying to get your angle here, Sada-Turo. I don't see why you're bothering to come back after all these years. She's built a good life for herself, y'know? Super successful Champion, one of the best field researchers for our scientists. One hell of a mom. She doesn't need you or whatever pathetic excuse of an offer you might be trying to attempt here."
"Wh...What?!" Arven stammers, his heart pounding painfully in his chest when your status as a parent was confirmed. "I didn't even come back to see her! I came back to get the rest of my stuff and move permanently back to Kalos! It was only--"
"Then why are you here? Why don't you go?" Rika asks, her eyes going dark. "We don't need you. She doesn’t need you."
Arven's heart sinks. Rika was re-affirming all his worst thoughts, and as much as he feels urged to believe them, he fights it. This isn't a conversation he needs to have with some random woman at the Pokemon League. Who was she anyway? Your girlfriend? No, she called you a dear friend, but still…
Ugh, Rika’s relationship to you doesn't matter! He needs to talk to you.
"Is she coming down or not? Is she even in the building?"
"Not anymore." Rika smirks, checking her phone.
Arven audibly sighs and stands to leave. "You're wasting my time. I need to talk to her about...whatever this is that’s going on." He says, gesturing vaguely as he leaves the building.
"Oh, now you wanna talk to her? Why? Wanna try and convince yourself you're better than your own daddy because of your follower count or some tauros-shit?" Rika calls after him. "See if she gives you the time of day, Sada-Turo! Just see!"
Her words sting. Really badly, actually, but Arven tries to just let them slide off his back best he can. That woman doesn't know him. She isn't the priority right now.
You are.
He just needs to figure out some way to find and talk to you…
His phone buzzes obnoxiously in his pocket. He spares a glance at it as he hails a taxi on the off-chance that maybe you'd reach out, then turns the screen off. He doesn't have time for his PR rep right now.
197 notes · View notes
vgfm · 8 months
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Predicting the Release of Deltarune Chapters 3, 4, and 5
a.k.a., “I spend way too much time analyzing a dev cycle that I do not fully understand and have no control over”
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Undertale’s 8th anniversary has come and gone, and it’s left some fans feeling disappointed. I wasn’t expecting anything too major this year since the last three anniversaries were a bit of an anomaly. We’ve truly been spoiled to have gotten the Undertale concert, Chapter 2, and the Spamton Sweepstakes back-to-back-to-back. It’s easy to forget that the anniversaries before this were far more low-key affairs.
Even so, the 8th anniversary still felt a bit lacking. I had been hoping for a full status update post to the Deltarune website, but instead we got a much shorter update in the autumn newsletter. It’s true that we’ve gotten 3 other newsletters in the time since the 7th anniversary, and each has had tidbits of Deltarune news as well as their own share of fun extras. However, even all four newsletters combined seem to have less to say about Deltarune’s status than an annual update post usually does.
Fans who’ve been paying attention also seem a bit disappointed with the current progress of the game. Early status updates made it sound like Chapters 3, 4, and 5 were speeding along, while later ones make it sound like Chapter 3 has slowed to a crawl. I initially felt this way, but upon reflection I think this mindset is due to two main factors: (1) fans interpreting status updates overly optimistically, and (2) Toby sometimes using unclear language when describing the status of development.
I’ve poured over the recent newsletters, Deltarune’s past status updates, and Toby’s old tweets and interviews to get a better picture of how the game’s development is progressing. I also looked to the development of Chapters 1 and 2 to get an idea of what a completed chapter’s dev cycle looks like, and with that info I’ll try to piece together my best estimation for when Chapters 3 through 5 might finish.
Yes, I’ve hit peak hiatus brainrot and, like some others, I’ve run out of things to theorize about the game itself and now I’m trying to write a theory about game development, despite the fact that I have zero experience in game dev outside of making a couple of goofy low-effort mods. I want to emphasize that I’m doing this for fun and that I don’t want to rush Toby or his team—I’d like for Deltarune to take as long as it needs for the best result and for the team to not be overworked.
With all that said, before I can make a prediction, I must first break down my observations for each chapter’s development cycle so far. As mentioned, I’m pulling this info from newsletters, status updates, and Toby’s tweets and interviews. I won’t cite a source for every bullet point, but it’s not too hard to track down this information.
Note: Dates referred to here are release dates for products and status updates/posts. I’m aware that most major posts that Toby writes nowadays are made at least 1 month in advance due to the need for translation. To make things simple, I’m using the publishing dates instead of second-guessing the date of writing.
Chapter 1
Took roughly three years of total development time, from late 2015/early 2016 to October 2018
An unknown amount of early planning was done during and prior to Undertale’s development.
Toby and Temmie largely worked on this chapter alone
This chapter required creating the entire party-based battle system
This chapter required designing the entire Hometown and ensuring it would “set up” future events in the game properly
Except for composing some songs and writing the story, Toby didn’t work on any future chapters during Chapter 1’s development
My assessment is that this was almost certainly the hardest and most time-consuming chapter to develop. Toby had to create the game nearly from scratch with the fewest resources at his disposal. All future chapters benefited from using chapter 1 (and later 2) as a base and having things like Hometown already set up in advance
Chapter 2
Came out three years after Chapter 1, but Toby later said Chapter 2 only took 1.5 years of active development—beginning in May 2020 and releasing in September 2021. This 1.5 year period likely does not include planning and pre-production, since Toby tweeted about designing and writing parts of Chapter 2 prior to May 2020. However, this 1.5 year development period would include testing and other finishing touches.
The other 1.5 years prior to Ch 2’s full development were spent experimenting with other game engines, hiring team members, pre-production on Chapter 2, and planning future chapters of the story.
Toby finished outlining the rest of the game and writing most of the full game’s dialogue during and prior to Chapter 2’s development. Toby decided what all battles will be for Chapters 3 through 5 and most battles for the rest of the game. Toby also has all locations planned (in the form of text) for 3 through 5 at this time. This is all outlined in the 2020 status update.
After the first four months of active development, Toby guessed chapter 2 was 50-80% content-complete by the time of the Undertale 5th anniversary. He also projected that the game would be ready to enter beta testing by the end of 2020. 
Chapter 2 was in beta testing by April 2021 at the latest, since Toby tweeted about it at that time, so Chapter 2’s development phases can be broken down thusly:
Design (Pre-production; writing, planning, designing assets): Less than 1.5 years
Implementation (Active development; programming, graphics, creating battle assets and environments, music): 8-12 months
Finishing (testing, translating, polishing): 5-9 months
My assessment is that, although there was a 3-year time period leading up to both Chapter 1 and 2, it feels like Chapter 2’s development period got a lot more done. Toby has said that chapter 2 is the largest chapter in the game in many ways. Toby was working with a team starting with Chapter 2 and he was able to start planning and pre-production work on future chapters in the meantime, allowing for a much smoother start to Chapter 3’s development than chapters 1 and 2 had. Chapter 2’s release also seems to mark a shift in how Toby’s team structures their development phases, which I’ll go over in 3 through 5.
Chapters 3 through 5
Most early planning for chapters 3 through 5 was completed during chapter 2’s development, likely shortening the pre-production phase compared to previous chapters. However, Toby did mention in the 2022 update that “certain aspects” affecting 3 through 5 needed a while to set up. As of 2022, those “aspects” are now in place.
As of September of 2022, one year after Chapter 2’s release, Toby’s team is working on 3 through 5 in parallel and has already completed more than one chapter’s worth of “bullets, cutscenes, and gimmicks”. I will elaborate on this in a bit.
In March of 2023, Toby’s team is primarily focused on finishing Chapter 3. We can say for certain that Chapter 3 entered active development in early 2023 at the latest
As of September 2023, Chapter 3 is in a fully playable state from start to finish and is presumably ready for alpha/beta testing
Chapter 3 seems to mark a slight shift in the team’s production order for each chapter. Chapter 2’s phases were outlined in the 2020 update as three phases: Design, Implementation, and Finishing. Based on context clues from last year’s update and this year’s newsletters, chapters 3 through 5 seem to be following a modified four-phase workflow:
Phase 1 – Design – writing the story, planning the game, and assigning roles to team members. It’s hard to quantify how long this took with chapters 1 and 2, but the good news is that most of this phase was completed for future chapters during chapter 2’s development, according to the 2020 status update. The 2022 update does imply that there was still some set up required leading into chapters 3 through 5. This could be connected with the rumored engine changes to GameMaker to allow multiple games to be launched from a single launcher. Either way, this set up was finished before the 2022 update and be presumed to be done for all three chapters.
Phase 2 – Early Implementation – I’ve split implementation into two phases for reasons I’ll explain in the next phase, though these two halves likely overlap. I suspect this first half of implementation involves preparing dialogue for translation (which was previously done as a finishing step for Chapters 1 and 2) and creating assets in bulk to plug into the game later. This phase is likely when the “chapter’s worth of bullets, cutscenes, and gimmicks” mentioned in the 2022 update was created. Later newsletters imply that Chapter 3’s locations were in an earlier state of development than many fans expected, so I think Toby has artists and programmers design enemies, puzzles, and cutscenes in advance before areas are created to put them into. Chapter 3 seems to have completed the early implementation phase. Chapter 4 has had a significant chunk of this phase complete, based on the 2022 update, and currently 4 and 5 both seem to be in this phase, as of June 2023.
Phase 3 – Full Implementation – This consists of programming game world locations and assembling the full structure of the game. I believe this can be treated as a separate phase from the early implementation because (1) Toby mentioned in the 2020 update that he doesn’t draw map designs until the team starts programming, (2) Chapter 2’s maps had only just been started when its cutscenes, songs, bullet patterns, and other assets were nearly finished in 2020, and (3) Chapter 3 seemed to be early in this phase in 2023, despite more than a chapter’s worth of assets being created in 2022. Chapter 3 recently finished this phase, and chapters 4 and 5 likely haven’t gotten far in this phase or reached it yet. All implementation for Chapter 2 lasted between 8 and 12 months. It’s likely this will take less time per chapter for 3 through 5 due to Toby saying Chapter 2 was the longest in the game and Toby having more resources available to complete early implementation on 4 and 5 while 3 undergoes full implementation and the next step:
Phase 4 – Finishing – This is presumably the same as Chapter 2’s finishing phase, only with translation likely occurring earlier in the process, per the March 2023 newsletter. Chapter 3 recently entered this phase. This phase took anywhere from 5 to 9 months for chapter 2, depending on when that chapter entered beta.
Conclusions
Overall, we know that chapters 3 through 5 are using Chapter 2 as a base, Toby has a larger team and more resources available to him than ever before, and Chapters 3 through 5 are being developed in parallel. Chapters 3 through 5 also had the advantage of having most of their planning and design taken care of during Chapter 2’s development cycle. To reiterate, Chapter 2’s development ended up like this:
Design: Less than 1.5 years
Implementation: 8-12 months
Finishing: 5-9 months
Based on what we’ve heard regarding chapter 3, I think we can extrapolate the following timeline for Chapters 3 through 5 so far:
Design: FINISHED (all chapters). Less than 1 year – I’m not counting the design work on 3 through 5 that was already completed before Chapter 2 released. The 2022 update did hint at some form of set up or planning affecting 3 through 5 that had been resolved by September 2022—this makes one year of design the maximum possible amount in this development cycle, though it was likely considerably less
Early Implementation: FINISHED (Ch 3), IN-PROGRESS (4&5). 6-17 months – The 17 months figure is from adding up the year between the 6th and 7th anniversaries and ending at the March 2023 newsletter, when finishing chapter 3 was announced as now being the team’s main focus; this assumes that early production began as soon as Chapter 2 released and that priorities didn’t shift to Chapter 3 until right when the March newsletter came out. The 6 month figure is assuming that most of 2022 was spent on design and resolving the “factors” that affected 3 through 5, which is highly unlikely. We know that early implementation assets were worked on for chapters 3 and 4 simultaneously in 2022, and it’s likely that Chapter 3 alone would have taken less than a cumulative year at this stage. Extrapolating from where things were in 2022, I’d guess Chapters 4 and 5 are at least halfway done with this phase cumulatively.
Full Implementation: FINISHED? (Ch 3). 6-12 months – I base the 12 month figure off of the idea that focus switched to Chapter 3 immediately after the 2022 update and I base the 6 month figure off of the March 2023 newsletter being the point where focus shifted. Chapter 3 became fully playable in September 2023, marking a probable end date for this phase
Finishing: IN-PROGRESS? (Ch 3). Unknown. This could match the 5-9 months for Chapter 2. It’s also possible that 4 and 5 could move onto full implementation while 3’s playtesting takes place, since the latter can rely on people outside the team playing the game while members of the team are freed up to work on other things. Bumping up translation earlier in the pipeline might also shave some time off this phase.
The Prediction
Overall, I’m reasonably certain that Chapter 3 will be completely done within the next 6 months, barring some unforeseen difficulties. Game development can be unpredictable, so anything’s possible (especially delays). Toby has remarked on how strange chapter 3 is and he’s implied that some segments have had to be removed or cut down, so it’s possible this chapter was a lot more experimental and needed more time.
I’d say chapter 4 is, bare minimum, halfway through early implementation. More likely, I think it’s nearing the end of early implementation. I say this because having more than a chapter’s worth of assets completed in 2022 meant that not all of that was for chapter 3, and 2022’s update made it sound like 3 and 4’s progress was roughly neck-and-neck at the start of this phase—hence, half a chapter’s worth of assets done for 4. Obviously focus has shifted to chapter 3, but Toby did reiterate that assets are still being made for 4 and 5 during the summer newsletter, so it’s likely 4 has the majority of this phase done and 5 has made some progress.
Where do I think we’ll be in a year? The optimist in me would like to say that all three chapters will be done by next September, but I’m honestly doubtful. I think a more likely scenario is that 3, 4, and 5 will release sometime between the 2024 and 2025 anniversaries. If we’re lucky, then end of 2024 or early 2025. I think the best case scenario would be that Chapter 3 wraps up around the end of this year (or final testing frees up the team to focus on 4 by then) with Chapter 4 ready to have its maps created immediately afterwards (or already started). Chapter 4 would then enter testing in early-to-mid 2024, with chapter 5 following a few months after to be ready just in time at the end of the year.
I know it may sound bleak to some to be willing to wait another 1-2 years, but keep in mind that this pace is still much faster than what development has been so far. In six years we got two chapters of Deltarune. With my estimate, we’d be getting three chapters in 3-4 years. Chapter 2 took 1.5 years of dedicated development time, plus pre-production, whereas 3 through 5 seem poised to take less time per chapter. I predict that chapters 4 and 5 will go more smoothly, partly because they seem to be more “standard” chapters but also because the groundwork is already being laid for them while 3 is being finished. It took less than a year for Chapter 3 to go from a pile of assets to an assembled and test-ready game. At that pace, it wouldn’t take much longer for 4 and 5 to both bridge that gap—the only extra time will come from finishing up early implementation on 4 and 5 as well as testing each chapter.
I don’t have much else to say in terms of predictions, but I did write up a big timeline of Deltarune (and Undertale’s) development while making this post. I was originally going to put it at the beginning, but it was hard to parse and contained some redundant information. On top of that, Tumblr messed up the formatting so it may be a little hard to read.
Instead of placing the timeline front and center, I’m including it below for all you truck freaks out there who want to know where I pulled various dates from, or if you’ll just read anything Deltarune-related. For everyone else, this post is basically over now. Bye!
Timeline
2011
Toby is first inspired to make Deltarune from a dream (according to interviews)
2012
Toby attempts to create a Deltarune-like project but abandons it before creating Undertale
2013
May 23 - Undertale demo is released
2014
Toby develops Undertale and continues creating Deltarune concept art on the side (according to 2018 tweet). Toby also teases Deltarune’s existence on the Undertale Kickstarter at some point between 2013 and 2015
2015
September 15 – Undertale releases on PC and Mac
Toby creates and updates the Deltarune.com website between 2015 and 2016. Development on Deltarune chapter 1 likely begins in earnest in late 2015 or early 2016
2016
July 17 – Undertale releases on Linux
2017
August 15 – Undertale releases on PS4 and PS Vita
September 15 – Undertale 2nd Anniversary. Toby releases early draft of alarm clock dialogue. First mention of Rudy Holiday
2018
September 18 – Undertale releases on Switch
October 31 – Deltarune Chapter 1 releases on PC
According to Toby’s Twitlonger, Chapter 1 was content-complete “a little while” prior to October 4th and was still being translated as of the 4th. This implies that, during Chapter 1’s development, translation was one of the final steps. According to Toby, Chapter 1 took “a few years” to create. At this time he says 7 years is the maximum time he’d be willing to spend on a project. Toby announces his intent to release all remaining chapters at once. It’s implied that Toby created chapter 1 mostly on his own, with art by Temmie. He mentions wanting to hire a team for the rest of the game. Toby mentions that Chapter 1 needed to create the entire Hometown “correctly on the first try” in order to “set up properly for the rest of the game,” likely adding to development time. Toby says that apart from creating some songs and writing the whole story, he hasn’t completed any work on the other chapters at this point. Specifically, no programming or final art has been done.
According to later statements by Toby, he and his team will spend the next two years writing, composing, designing, and drawing content for future chapters
2019
February 28 – Deltarune chapter 1 releases on Switch and PS4
March – Early development on future chapters begins, but “99%” of the work at this time is spent on investigating alternative game engines to GameMaker. During this period, Toby continues planning the game and writing its story
April 18 – Toby tweets that he’s “making great progress designing Chapter 2” and posts concept art, indicating that the chapter is still in early development
June 12 – Toby tweets that he has “about 50” songs past Chapter 1 in various stages of completion, compared to Chapter 1’s 40 songs. He also mentions that he’s currently writing and drawing bosses, bullets, cutscenes, and characters for future chapters
July 5 – Toby reiterates via tweet that he plans to release all remaining chapters at the same time
September 15 – Undertale’s 4th anniversary and Deltarune Chapter 2 status update
Toby reveals annoying dog in toy car sprite from Chapter 2. Toby posts early versions of the songs Lost Girl and Welcome to the City. Toby posts concept art of Susie’s angry reaction to Noelle looking at her tail. Overall, Toby says the design of the game is going “really well” but that other aspects are “facing some hurdles”. This seems to imply that Chapter 2 is still in early development at this point.
2020
Around March or April, Toby experiences severe wrist pain that slows down his ability to develop the game
“A few months” prior to August/September, Toby completes readable outlines for every chapter in the game, including first-pass dialogue for almost all cutscenes. All major events and battles that will take place are now known. Toby also decides around this time to go back to GameMaker as the engine of choice for the full game
May – Deltarune chapter 2 begins full development, using Chapter 1 as a base
September 15 -  Undertale’s 5th anniversary concert and Deltarune Chapter 2 status update
Toby reveals he’s now working on a team with four full-time members (including himself) and other part-time members. Toby is designer and programmer. He also proposes hiring more people to work on Chapters 3 and beyond. Toby believes that Chapter 2, content-wise, will be done before the end of 2020 (not accounting for translation, bugtesting, and porting). This likely meant that, by the end of 2020, Chapter 2 was in an alpha or beta state where it could be played through from beginning to the end. Toby estimates that Chapter 2’s design/early development phase is 100% done. Toby estimates Chapter 2’s art is 90% done, Cutscenes are 80% done, Bullet patterns are 70%, other battle elements (ACTs) are 30%, audio is 80%, “other”/misc content is 65%. Chapter 2’s maps are mostly started or placeholder but with all NPC interactions completed. Toby reveals that he doesn’t draw his map designs until his team starts programming. Chapter 2’s balancing/bugfixing/translation/porting are all 0% done. Overall Toby suggests that Chapter 2 is between 50% and 80% done. Toby makes a distinction between Chapter’s 2 development and the development of remaining chapters. He also says that the game will be released in “many Chapters,” perhaps implying he was already reconsidering his goal of releasing all chapters at once at this time. Toby describes Chapters 3 and onward as having story and progression 100% done, cutscene dialogue 95% done. Ch 3+ Textual map design is 70% done overall and earlier chapters 100% done. “Earlier chapters” likely means 3 through 5. Drawn map design is 0% done. Ch 3+ enemy conceptual design is 90% done and bosses are 100% done. Enemy bullet designs are 80% done overall and 100% done in earlier chapters. Ch 3+ music concepts are 95% done, completed music is 50% done. Ch 3+ background concepts (first-pass) are 75% done. Ch 3+ bosses (first-pass) are 100% done. Ch 3+ sprite art is 20% done.
November 23 – Toby tweets the giant toilet from Chapter 2
2021
March 16 – Undertale releases on Xbox One
April 17 – Toby tweets about a friend playing the beta version of Chapter 2, confirming the game was in beta and undergoing playtesting around or prior to this time
July 20 – Toby tweets again about another friend playing the Chapter 2 beta
September 15 – Undertale 6th anniversary, Deltarune Chapter 2 announced
September 17 – Deltarune Chapter 2 is released
Toby’s team has expanded since the last status update and he considers expanding the team a little more. Toby says Chapter 2 was the biggest chapter in the game in many ways, including by cutscene count. Toby confirms changing his mind about releasing all chapters at once. Instead, Chapters 1 through 5 will be bundled together as a paid release once 3, 4, and 5 finish development.
September 23 – Deltarune Chapter 2 released on Switch and PS4
September 24 – Toby confirms in an interview that Chapter 2’s development took 1.5 years. This would line up with development starting in earnest around May 2020. Toby also confirms that chapter 2’s programming was handed over to another member of the team due to Toby’s wrist injury. Toby is now working as director on the project.
2022
February 9 – Toby posts concept art of future chapters
May 17 – Toby posts more concept art and mentions he’s gotten more people to help with development
September 15 – Undertale 7th anniversary
Toby’s team is simultaneously working on chapters 3, 4, and 5. Toby confirms more people have joined the team and the pace of creation has improved from Chapter 2. Most work completed has been for Chapters 3 and 4. Between 3, 4, and 5, the team has created more than one chapter’s worth of bullets, cutscenes, and gimmicks (likely meaning puzzles). Toby mentions 3, 4, and 5 having “certain aspects” that took a while to set up but are now in place, which will make development go smoother. Toby releases screenshots and songs from chapters 3 and 4.
September 17 – The Spamton Sweepstakes
November 17 – Toby announces Undertale/Deltarune mailing list
December 19 – The first Undertale/Deltarune newsletter is delivered
Toby says “the end is in sight” for some of the content in Chapter 3, but is very vague overall.
2023
March 30 – The second newsletter is delivered
The team’s main focus is completing Chapter 3. Translation for chapter 3 is close to starting. Based on what we know from later updates, it seems that translation is beginning sooner for these chapters than it did for chapters 1 and 2.
June 29 – The third newsletter is delivered
The team is still focusing on Chapter 3, but a few people are working on bullet patterns and puzzles for later chapters. The team is creating the final overworld area for Chapter 3, which is the last thing to complete before Chapter 3 is fully playable from start to finish (i.e., entering an alpha/beta state). Toby mentions how chapter 3 is an unusual chapter and implies it may have been harder to work on than a typical chapter. He also says Chapter 4 will be a “much more standard chapter”.
September 14th – The fourth newsletter is delivered
Chapter 3 is now playable from start to finish and is (presumably) undergoing testing and polish.
73 notes · View notes
Never Gone, Maybe Far
The Bad Batch. Bad Batch/Reader. | writing-positivelyexisting🫧 ⚠️ angst warning: character death, hurt/no comfort.
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Fighting alongside two of the best Jedi was a thrill. You, the boys, and so many regs exchanging blaster fire against the Separatists. The hum of each blast sent electrical waves of adrenaline through your whole body. Sure, you were a simple bounty hunter, hired by the Kaminoans to keep a watchful eye on the Bad Batch, but this past year with them is a year you wouldn’t trade for anything this galaxy had to offer.
You even came to find one of them romantically appealing. He was sweet, most times. His mind never strayed too far from being a soldier. It’s just who he is and you couldn’t blame him. It was admirable. You loved him more because of it.
 Of course, when it came to battles you two knew that your emotions could never cloud your judgment. Death was a part of everyone’s life. That was a fact to accept quickly, and you and him both did. Plus, your relationship was a secret, so there were two big factors playing here.
This battle, however, was becoming increasingly sour. For every two droids shot, the Separatists shot four clones. It wasn’t looking good this time around.
Still, you and the Bad Batch were determined to win. The regs were in the same position, aside from their commanders saying how crucial this battle was. Winning against the Separatists was always common ground.
The Jedi ordered a regroup through the comms, and Hunter agreed. As quickly as you all could, you made the break for cover. The enemy fire never ceased and when you tried to follow behind Tech, a blaster shot took you by surprise.
A fire-like sensation had spread from the wound through your middle. You didn’t think this is how you would go out. Maybe a little more dramatic, but not everyone can choose their death. Your body fell to the ground and the men all turned to see. The shock of your body lying on the ground with a blaster hole through your back was dizzying to all of them.
“Wrecker!”
“On it!”
The explosives specialist came to you and lifted you up, carrying you to a safe location. Not the rendezvous with the Jedi, not without knowing if you would make it.
The team kept their profile low in the forest, while Tech assessed your wound. Your weak eyes looked at each of them, especially him. You knew. He knew. They all knew. But hope had a strange way of seeping into those who are so bound by fact. Hope is sometimes the killer that gets away.
“Hey,” your meek voice called out, “come here.” 
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The leader of this team came to your side, kneeling on knee. His hand came to brush away your hair and settle on your cheek. His eyes were full of fear. Eyebrows knitted with anger. Those lips that you loved to kiss frowned in sorrow.
He knew. As well as you.
“Don’t,” was all he could manage to whisper. 
You did your best to smile while in pain. “Just remember,”
“YN, don’t.”
His eyes couldn’t hold in his tears. How sad that this is the first time you’re seeing him cry, at your death and not when the war was finally won and you could get married?
“Just remember, Hunter,” you spoke again, feeling your body give up, “that we lay under the same stars… you’ll never be alone.” 
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As he tried to work on curing your wound with quite literally nothing, you raised a weak hand to grab him when your words didn’t reach him. His head turned to look at you and you could see the desperation, you felt it in the shakiness of his hand, too. Tech. Known for his analytics, data, facts, and logic, to be overcome by hope – the tiniest sliver of hope that you would make it.
It amazed you.
“YN, I’m sorry. I’m doing everything I can with little to nothing, I won’t stop, just let me,”
“Tech.” He swallowed, grasping on to each word you had to say. “It’s not your fault.”
There was a chill setting in and you knew you didn’t have much longer. Tech saw it. He reached to hold your hand in both of his hands, data pad forgotten on the ground. He muttered an apology again, asking Maker for a miracle. Your man of science and all things technology asking for help through prayer. Definitely a sight.
“I love you.” Your eyes fluttered closed. “When you miss me, Tech, just close your eyes. You'll never be alone.” 
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The man never left your side after bringing you to where you lay, his hand intertwined with yours. He turned to face you when you called and there was a sinking feeling in his stomach.
You gave him a smile and he shook his head. “No, cyar’ika. Not yet, please.” 
“My big guy… I love you.”
His tears fell freely. You’d seen him cry before, mostly during holomovies and you would wipe them away while he wiped away yours. So you tried. You raised a hand to his face with the last bit of your strength to wipe away his tears.
Wrecker held your hand to his face, wanting it to stay there forever. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“I can’t stay, I’m sorry.” Your tears slipped out and they fell faster when Wrecker reached to wipe them away. “But you’ll never be alone, just remember that.” 
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Echo was by your side instantly. He caressed your cheek, taking shaky breaths to keep the sobs from escaping. He knew that your wound was fatal. Nothing could help you, not in the middle of a battle. Still, he wanted to have hope.
“In a different life,” you started, “I wonder if we would have gotten married.” 
Echo nodded. “Of course… and we would have a family. Two kids, one boy and one girl, just like you want.”
You smiled, that dream seeming so far now. “I love you.” Echo bit his tongue. He wanted to say it back. “Take a piece of my heart,” you coated your hand in the light brown clay beneath you and touched his chest plate, “and make it all your own. You’ll never be alone.” 
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He set his rifle down and stared at you. He had no emotion, but if you looked into his eyes you could find everything written in bold. Anguish, fear, resentment, love, hope. Crosshair rolled his toothpick anxiously. Before you, he was so calm with death, he even made friends with it. Now? His friend had betrayed him. 
“Cross…”
You didn’t even get to say anything next before he had pulled you into his arms. You were the physically affectionate one between the two of you, so he knew.
“It’s too soon to leave.” 
“I know…” your arms found the strength to hold onto him. “Just let me hold you for a little longer.”
You could feel the tremble of his sadness against you, and only when you felt a cold wet droplet on your neck did you realize he was crying. You’ve never seen this man cry and that’s how he wanted it to stay.
“I love you.” 
“YN…” 
“You’ll never be alone.”
>|<
When the battle ended in victory, the Batch transported your body back to Kamino. They requested a small service for you and when it was approved, it was just the five of them.
Buried on Coruscant, your name was commemorated. When your casket was buried and the grave was filled up, the men stayed a few moments longer. The man you loved had his eyes glued to the dirt which covered you. You were gone. Nothing more to it. So why was it so effing hard to move? To leave your burial? To return to battle? To continue living?
His back straightened when a freezing chill graced him. He looked at his brothers to see if they felt it, too. It had to have been you. He felt it in his soul. You were right. He was never alone, even if you two are apart.
You may be far, but never gone.
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word count: 1,365.
p.s. IT'S AFTER VALENTINE'S DAY, TIME FOR ANGST! I WAS NICE YESTERDAY, NOT TODAY! I'm sorry if you cried, just know I cried while writing this. Never Be Alone by Shawn Mendez inspired this, give it a listen. PSA this is not for the 50 followers celebration.
beta read by: @beating-a-dead-plot
tag list: @dangraccoon (please let me know if you want to be on this list! comment or send me an ask).
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lizzie-is-here · 2 years
Text
like the dawn
part viii- mission report
“if the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent” - farouq jwaydeh
summary: three bug-themed superheroes, another two named after animals, and a flying robot. what’s next, character development?
wordcount: 5.5k
warnings: violence, cussing, google translate, my inability to write serious scenes without making jokes, injury, past death (howard and maria), hydra torture stuff, trauma, insecurities, yk the usual, idk arguing???
taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey
a/n: okay listen i think i have a thing for reader getting hurt during this specific battle 🤭 sue me i’m basic but i had to give u your y/n moment 😌✨ ALSO THANK YALL SM FOR 300 FOLLOWERS! i’ll post an event soon but i’m still working out some things love u all hope u enjoy!
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When Steve said he had a getaway car, you expected a bit more than a VW Beetle. Sure, you’re on the run, but there had to be a more conspicuous car to take.
But here you were, crammed into the backseat alongside Bucky while Sam took the passenger seat and Steve drove. How the blond learned to drive, you don’t know. The last time you saw him try to drive was the ‘40s, and he’d almost run you over.
He parks and climbs out to speak to a blonde agent, and you watch carefully as they meet in the middle. The woman opens the trunk of her car to reveal the shield, wings, and your bow. You sigh in relief.
Next to you, Bucky eyes the man in the seat in front of him.
“Can you move your seat up?”
“No.”
You were already uncomfortable. Your poor wings were cramped and tired, and it didn’t help when Bucky scooted closer to you to stretch his legs.
“You’re squishing my feathers,” you whisper. He apologizes and scoots slightly away, gently moving your wing before relaxing again.
The blonde agent is leaning in towards Steve. You narrow your eyes. Thankfully, your friend leans away and awkwardly grabs the shield and other confiscated equipment.
“You two are looking pretty tense there,” Sam quips, smirking in the rear view mirror. You don’t respond and Bucky kicks his seat lightly.
He had a point. Why did you care if they kissed?
Steve climbs back into the car before you have an answer, and the whole ride to the airport, you’re stuck in your head.
You know you used to like him- both of them. You remember the countless letters you wrote and how regretful you were over not telling them.
But it’s been 70 years. And after what you’ve gone through, you genuinely weren’t sure if you could love anymore. Or be loved.
It was a miracle that Steve still cared enough about you two to go through all this trouble. To ask even more of him, and Bucky, seemed selfish. That was the last thing you wanted to be to your boys.
Yours. Yours, yours, yours. It had never been any other way. Sure, Bucky went on dates and so did you, Steve often being dragged along, but you always circled back to each other. Always.
Steve finds a spot in the parking garage and you all get out, watching as the door to the white van next to you pops open.
First comes the archer. Agent Clint Barton. You try your best to push down the memories you have of analyzing every Avenger, assessing their threat levels. But by the time he and Steve shake hands your mind has already found three weaknesses on him.
The enhanced girl, Wanda Maximoff, is next. She was on the news recently; about an accident on a mission to Lagos that led to civilian deaths. She’s young. She reminds you of you.
“How about our new recruit?” Steve asks. Agent Barton slides the back door open, revealing a middle-aged man laying on the van floor. He jolts awake, clearly confused.
“What time zone is this?” he asks, eyes widening when he spots the famous Captain. “Captain America!” He excitedly takes his hand, vigorously shaking it.
“Mr. Lang,” Steve responds.
The man never stops shaking his hand. “It’s an honor. I’m shaking your hand too long.” Steve nods, and he lets go but keeps talking at a lightning pace. “Wow! Captain America. I know you, too. You’re great!” He points to Wanda, who smiles gratefully.
Taking another glance at Steve, he ends up awkwardly grabbing his pecs, and you look away as confusion radiates off your friend. He turns back to shoot a look that screams ‘this guy just grabbed my chest’, before resuming the rather one-sided conversation.
“Look, I wanna say, I know you know a lot of super people, so, thinks for thanking of me.” He waves to Sam. “Hey, man!”
They talk briefly, something about an audition? Tilting your head in confusion, you decide to cut him off before he makes this worse for himself.
“We should get moving,” you announce. Soon after, German floods the PA.
“They’re evacuating the airport,” Bucky translates.
A brief description of your opponents, an even shorter mention of Howard’s son, and Steve turns to the group.
“Suit up.”
You look around. It’s a parking garage. There are seven of you. You frown.
“Where?”
———————————————————————
After a very uncomfortable ten minutes of changing in front of each other, tying Wanda’s corset for her, and accidentally zipping a feather into your suit, you split off. Sam and Bucky head to a terminal. Wanda and Clint stay in the garage, and the new guy, Scott, shrinks down and hops on Steve’s shield, who goes to negotiate with the other Avengers.
And you perch atop the garage, staying well hidden while also having a perfect view of the area.
The Iron Man and the grey suit from earlier confront Steve first. Then the man in the cat suit. Then the Black Widow. Lastly, a small boy (man?) in a red and blue suit. He flips through the air with ease, firing what looks like… Spiderwebs? And rips the shield from Steve’s hands. Alright, enhanced agility, strength, and webs. Weird.
What you can hear of his voice is that of a teenager. A literal child. Even weirder.
In your earpiece, Sam speaks. “We found it. Their Quinjet’s in hangar five, north runway.”
You nock a glowing arrow just as Steve raises his arms, sending it cutting through the webs restraining him. While Clint grumbles about you stealing his shot, the arrow lands near Howard’s son.
Scott grows in size, returning it to Steve as you stand up on the roof. Your wings stretch out, casting a shadow along the pavement. You hear the teenager gasp and yell something about his US History textbooks.
He fires a web at you that you dodge, waiting until he gets close enough before flapping your wings and sending a gust of air towards him as he jumps. You sling a disc of light under him that breaks his fall.
He runs off to the terminal next, and you follow, avoiding stray shots from the two advanced suits. The kid gets tossed away before you even make it in, but you soar through the shattered window anyways.
Inside, webbed to the floor, you find Bucky and Sam. Landing next to them, you kneel with a smirk.
“Having fun?” you quip, carefully burning away the thin yet stubborn filaments. They both grumble before you all head back out, meeting up with your team as you sprint for the jet.
You’re stopped dead in your tracks as a glowing beam, similar to your powers, burns a line into the concrete and separates the two sides. A reddish-purple man floats midair. He has a cape, not that that makes you any less confused.
“Captain Rogers, I know you believe what you’re doing is right. But for the collective good, you must surrender now,” he says.
Sam asks what you’re all thinking. “What do we do, Cap?”
“We fight.”
As the two lines collide, you know you can’t go easy on them. A few of them have learned to target your wings, so you resort to stronger blasts to ward them off. You send a particularly brutal one at the flying man, who you think is a robot once you get a closer look.
Curiously, he doesn’t pause or hesitate, but when your attack collides and knocks him backward, he acts shocked.
You stare at one another for a moment, analyzing instead of attacking. But you quickly have to block an attack from Howard’s son, who’s emotionless metal helmet watches your every move. You bend a beam of light into his eyes, taking the opportunity to speed away with no intention of fighting something that shoots missiles.
The man in the cat suit seems to be targeting you and Bucky, needle-like claws slashing air as you duck and dodge. He goes for your neck, and just when you can’t move back fast enough, red energy surrounds him. He’s thrown away, and Wanda jogs up to you.
“Us girls got to keep an eye on each other,” she grins. You smile, nodding, and deflect a repulsor blast with ease. When you get a second to breathe, you spot Bucky on the ground.
Rushing over, you help him to his feet as explosions shake the ground.
“You good?” you ask, quickly scanning him for injuries. His left shoulder is more inflammed than usual, and he has some bruising, but other that, nothing major. He nods, checking you as well.
As more explosions surround you, you grab Bucky and run behind a plane. A large chunk of debris flies towards you, but a quick blast crumbles it into pebbles.
“We gotta go,” he shouts to Steve. “That guy’s probably in Siberia by now.”
“We gotta draw out the flyers,” he responds.
You step forward. “I’ll do it, you guys run.” Both of them instantly protest.
“You’re not going out there. Tony could knock you right out of the air with one repulsor blast,” Steve states firmly. “I’ll take Vision, you two get to the jet.”
Over comms, Sam cuts in. “No, you get to the jet. All of you. The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, if we’re gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it,” Clint agrees.
“This isn’t the real fight, Steve.”
Steve sighs. “Alright, Sam. What’s the play?”
“We need a diversion. Something big.”
Scott’s voice pipes up next as you duck to avoid the gaze of the flying robot. “I got something kinda big. But I can’t hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half… don’t come back for me.”
Bucky furrows his brows in confusion. “He’s gonna tear himself in half?” You shrug.
“You sure about this, Scott?”
He sounds out of breath. “I do it all the time. I mean once. In a lab.” Great. “Then I passed out.” Even better.
Peeking past the plane, you watch as he suddenly appears, towering over the buildings, and grabs the gray Iron Man suit. You can hear him laugh from where you are, clearly excited.
“I guess that’s the signal,” Steve says.
You gesture to the hangar. “Then let’s go!”
Staying on ground with Steve and Bucky, you only use your wings to boost yourself along. If you take to the air, it’ll be too easy to be seen.
Another golden beam shoots from behind you, taking out a nearby tower as your heart sinks. Out of nowhere, however, a red cast surrounds it, holding the building together. You throw a thankful smile to the young girl, who nods back to you as you speed up.
But something goes wrong. A loud ringing, and the magic disappears. You throw up a shield as best you can, but you still barely make it under the collapsing tower.
Waiting on the other side is the Black Widow. You remember her sometimes. Or, a younger version. You suspect HYDRA lent the Angel and the Soldier to the Red Room to help with training.
“Natalia,” you greet, guilt weighing down your tone. She smirks.
“Солнце [Sun],” she responds. A nickname. Her words hold no blame. Turning her attention to the blond, she shakes her head. “You’re not gonna stop.”
“You know I can’t.”
She raises her hand, charging the tasers on her wrists. “I’m gonna regret this.”
Her shot flies over your shoulder, attacking the man in the cat suit instead. She nods to you. “Go.”
You fly into the plane first, ushering your boys in as you hurry to close the door. Steve takes the pilot’s seat while you stay in the back. Bucky hovers in between, pacing anxiously.
The advanced jet goes airborne in a matter of seconds, shooting from the hangar as you hold on. Through a screen showing a back-facing camera on the exterior of the plane, you spot the grey suit trailing you.
Sam follows, attempting to take him out, but when a gold beam aims for Sam and he dodges, it strikes the suit instead. With the power source damaged, it plummets.
It reminds you of watching Bucky fall. You open the hangar, diving out as the two protest.
You spiral down, watching from the corner of your eye as the Iron Man and Sam do the same. None of you are fast enough. The suit hits the ground with a loud thud, and you land nearby as Howard’s son cradles his body. His helmet flips away revealing his harsh glare as you step forward.
“Please,” you say, holding out a hand. “I can help him.” You notice the quinjet hovering midair as Bucky watches carefully.
After glancing down to his unconscious friend, the Stark nods.
“Can you open the suit?” you ask. He doesn’t say anything, just talks to something called FRIDAY, which evidently controls the suit. It pops open for you to assess the damage.
Shattered spinal column. L4 through S1. You can feel the pain.
“Well? What is it?” he demands. You reiterate your findings. “Extreme laceration on the spinal cord. Possible paralysis.” You’ve healed worse.
“Well, I’ll get medical on their way,” Stark says. You jump.
“No! No, please, I can help him.”
“How?”
Taking a few breaths, you focus on the bone first. You fuse them, feeling each fragment return to its proper place. After that, you heal the nerves. They stitch together with a simple thought. The bruising is even easier, fading as your breathing calms. Your powers move through the body with your hand, swirling and dividing to heal the injuries. The man wakes up.
“Tony!” he shouts, slowly reorienting himself. He seems shocked to see you kneeling beside him, but quickly understands what happened by the remaining glow from your hands.
You turn to Howard’s son. He meets your gaze, features relaxing.
He nods. “Thank you.” You stand. Slowly backing away, he doesn’t follow.
You fly away in an instant, landing on the quinjet as Bucky helps you stabilize. Closing the hangar, Steve smiles at you.
“Old habits die hard,” he quips. “Always getting everyone out of trouble.”
You can’t help but grin.
———————————————————————
A few hours later, still soaring on the quinjet towards Siberia, Bucky speaks up.
“What’s gonna happen to your friends?”
Steve lets out another heavy sigh. “Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it.”
“I don’t know if I’m worth all this, Steve,” he murmurs. A part of you wants to berate him. But you were thinking the exact same thing.
“What you did all those years, it wasn’t you,” the blond insists. “You didn’t have a choice.”
Silence.
“What’s on your mind, (Y/N)? You’re being awfully quiet,” he says. You shake your head.
“Why didn’t you ever give up on us?”
Your words break something in Steve. They give him a glimpse into your mind, how your thoughts seem to be in a constant spiral.
“You’re…” He hesitates. ‘Friends’ seems insulting. A mere fraction of what he feels for you two. But now isn’t the right time. “My best friends,” he finishes.
“We almost killed you, Steve,” you press further. Your wings puff slightly, prickling as your head pulls picture after picture.
The Captain denies it. “No, you didn’t. I would’ve been fine. Besides, you both snapped out of it before that even happened.”
You furrow your brow, volume rising slightly. “You don’t get it. When I healed you, I could feel your pulse dropping.” Your voice shakes.
“You were dying, Stevie.”
His breath hitches. Since that day, he hadn’t known how bad it was. All he knew was that, when he woke up, he didn’t have a scratch on him.
But if it had been bad enough to kill…
When he doesn’t respond, you’re sure you’ve done it. You’ve fucked up to the point where he won’t forgive you.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have snapped, I-“
Bucky rests a hand between your wings, rubbing small circles. It forces the tension to leave your body and you slump slightly, still trying to apologize.
Steve puts the quinjet on autopilot and turns back to you.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, you don’t have to apologize,” he promises. “I didn’t know how bad it was.”
“But it wasn’t your fault. The moment you two were out of HYDRA’s control, you helped me- saved me.”
“And I’m going to return the favor.”
As the last words leave his mouth, the jet lands. Bucky takes a gun from Natalia’s set as you sling your bow over your shoulder.
“You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?” Steve asks.
You chuckle. “Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?” He shakes his head.
“Bucky blew three bucks trying to win a bear for you,” he says. The brunet rolls his eyes.
“You said you liked it,” he defends himself.
Incredulous, you shove him. “We nearly froze to death!” The memory becomes clearer. You remember the bear. Sure, it was nice, but what was more amusing was watching Bucky attempt to throw the ball while you and Steve laughed your asses off.
Stepping out of the jet, you approach the door. It’s already open. The other Winter Soldiers could be anywhere.
“He can’t have been here longer than a few hours,” Steve mumbles.
Bucky frowns. “Long enough to wake them up.”
Before any of you step inside the dark hallway, you cast a soft whirl of light down it. It illuminates the walls, revealing it to be empty.
Slowly, you make your way through the halls. It’s odd, you remember them as if they were in a dream, haunting yet familiar.
An elevator ride takes you to the lower level, and the moment Steve lifts the cage door, you’re all on high alert. You don’t even take out your bow, opting instead to sling light into the darker corners.
Bucky leads the way, gun trained on any hiding spots. Halfway up the stairs, you hear a sound behind you.
You all whip around, watching as the door creaks open to reveal Howard’s son.
“You seem a little defensive,” he jokes.
Steve doesn’t laugh. “It’s been a long day.”
“At ease, Soldiers, I’m not currently after you,” he points to you and Bucky.
“Then why are you here?”
“Could be your story’s not so crazy. Maybe. Ross has no idea I’m here. I’d like to keep it that way.” So he’s siding with you. “Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.”
“Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork.” Steve lowers his shield. “It’s good to see you, Tony.”
“You too, Cap.” He turns to you and scoffs. “Hey, Manchurian Candidate, Lucifer, you’re killing me. There’s a truce here. You can drop…”
You lower your hands first, but Bucky keeps his gun raised until Steve nods in agreement.
From there, Tony leads you. His suit is best suited for it, anyway, with scanners and technology you couldn’t believe existed.
Finally coming to the largest room, you and Bucky hesitate. A lot happened here. You got your wings here. Your memories were torn, one by one, from your mind… here.
You step inside.
“I got heat signatures,” Tony says.
“How many?”
“Uh, one.”
All seven cages light up as you get closer. All five soldiers are inside.
The doctor speaks over the PA system. “If it’s any comfort, they died in their sleep.”
You step closer to one containment unit, wiping the fog away. The man inside is bleeding from the head. A bullet wound.
“Did you really think I wanted more of you?”
Bucky grips his gun tighter. “What the hell?” You stay close to him, turning your gaze away from the soldiers.
“I’m grateful to them, though. They brought you here.”
A small window lights up, revealing the man. Tony fires a blast and Steve throws his shield, but the glass doesn’t budge.
“Please, Captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.”
Tony circles the stand in the middle of the room. The chair lies at the center.
“I’m betting I could beat that!”
“Oh, I’m sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you’d never know why you came.”
Steve steps closer to him. “You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?”
He doesn’t answer, instead leans closer to the glass to peer at the blond. “I’ve thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you’re standing here…”
“I just realized… there’s a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.”
“You’re Sokovian,” Steve says. “Is that what this is about?”
“Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. No. I’m here because I made a promise.”
“You lost someone?”
“I lost everyone. And so will you.”
With that, he clicks a button and a screen lights up. December 16, 1991.
You freeze.
“An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That’s dead. Forever.”
Tony steps closer, deciphering what he can of the Russian words. “I know that road.” December. “What is this?”
———————————————————————
December 16, 1991.
The Angel of Death and the Winter Soldier were huddled behind a tree. Their target was on route, with a valuable serum in his car. Their handlers had told them that, if acquired, that serum could bring HYDRA further into power.
So there they were. You were tucked behind Winter, wings shivering as you waited.
The moment headlights approached and he affirmed that it was the target’s car, you struck. A beam of light popped one tire and sent the car veering into a tree.
A man stumbled out, begging for someone to help his wife. You ignored him, instead heading to open the trunk.
As you checked the items, Winter attacked the man and set his body back in the driver’s seat. Circling around the car, his metal hand barely grazed your primary feathers as he went to deal with the woman.
You grabbed the case and stepped to the side, watching a surveillance camera. Winter joined you shortly, shooting the lense.
And the next morning, the headlines read all about the mysterious deaths of Howard and Maria Stark.
———————————————————————
After the video ends, Tony jumps to attack you and Bucky. Steve grabs his arm, but neither of you run.
He has every right to be angry. He has every right to want you dead. You know he can kill you.
But you can’t leave Steve.
“Did you know?” Tony asks.
Steve hesitates. “I didn’t know it was them.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers,” the billionaire hisses. “Did. You. Know?”
“Yes.”
And he throws a punch at the blond. Bucky aims his gun, but is blown back. Even though you raise a hand, veins beginning to glow, you don’t attack.
Tony doesn’t either. “Get out of my sight,” he demands. Whether he’s sparing you since you saved his friend, or since you didn’t directly kill his parents you aren’t sure. But you don’t move.
Flying past you, Tony grabs Bucky by the neck and throws him against the floor. He stomps on his metal arm, pinning him before aiming his repulsor point-blank at his face.
In a flash, he’s thrown off, and you’re running towards Bucky while firing more blasts. Steve joins in, blocking his friend’s attacks with the shield.
Tony fires a sort of handcuff at Steve’s ankles, immobilizing him before turning back on Bucky. A missile fires, blowing a support beam to bits.
The freezer units come crashing down, and a part of you can’t help but be relieved. Still, you run to grab Bucky before he’s crushed under the metal.
“Get out of here!” Steve yells. You want to protest, but the brunet grabs your hand, racing away as you duck under Tony’s attacks. Slamming a button, the roof begins to open.
“Grab on!” Hoisting yourself and Bucky into the air, you push yourself towards the exit. Not fast enough, though, as you spot a red and gold suit following.
He kicks Bucky from your grip, and Steve barely manages to deflect a blast aimed at the ex-Winter Soldier’s head. The latter runs up to you, hoisting himself up as you strain to lift him.
“Ну давай же! Просто немного дальше [Come on! Just a little further],” you shout. You can feel the wind rushing in, a literal breath of fresh air.
Just one rung away from freedom, the top begins to slam shut. You drag Bucky away as it falls, cradling his head as you tumble down.
He swings a metal pipe at Tony, but is put in a choke hold just as quickly. You charge up a blast, but the man in the suit speaks.
“Do you even remember them?”
You nod. Bucky wheezes out, “We remember all of them.”
They lurch back, with Steve grabbing on and you following as they plummet into a separate area. You land harshly, wincing at the pressure as you help Bucky up. He’s watching the other two as they fight, unsure about whether to help or stay out of it.
He grabs the shield, leaping to drive it into the suit. You follow, bending light into Tony’s eyes to distract him.
The three of you tag-team it, exchanging the shield and moving in tandem.
For a while, it looks like you could win. But then you and Steve get thrown away into a stone pillar, coughing and gasping for air.
The fight moves between Bucky and Tony as the former furiously tries to remove the glowing circle powering the suit. It doesn’t work, and all he gets is a repulsor blast to the chest.
Stunned, he falls to the ground and is blasted away again. Steve gets up in an adrenaline-fueled rush and puts his all into incapacitating his friend as you crawl towards Bucky.
“Hey, hey, Winter.” You divert to the old name on some buried instinct, shielding him from the fighting. He’s bleeding but you can’t find the source. “You’re okay, it’s okay,” you whisper, voice shaking. Steve won’t be able to hold Tony off for long. Not with his tech.
Right on cue, you hear the shield fly and hit a wall, and Steve gets knocked past you. Running a hand over Bucky’s chest, you heal the searing burns and bruises. But every time you heal one, you find two more.
Steve’s on his knees behind you, looking up at Tony. “They’re my friends.”
“So was I.” Tony throws him again, turning his back on you. “Stay down. Final warning.”
Bucky begins to roll over, even as you protest.
And Steve, stubborn as he’s always been for as long as your memory reaches, rises. “I could do this all day.”
Bucky grabs Tony’s ankle as he prepares a shot, but the latter sends a brutal kick to his face. You yell, blasting his back before Steve lifts him over his head, slamming him onto the cold concrete.
He jumped atop him, throwing punch after punch. He eventually manages to break off the helmet, and this whole whole you’re still focused on healing Bucky’s very, very bloody face.
Behind you, Steve grabs the shield, driving it into the arc reactor. But just as he does so, one last blast of energy leaves the repulsor.
You see Bucky go pale moments before the searing pain in your back sets in.
For a few seconds, it’s too much to do anything but gasp silently. But then you scream.
Your wings had never been truly “hurt”. Sure, HYDRA was rough with them, but they were always considered too valuable to be hit or cut, even as punishment.
The pain stretched from wing to wing, rushing down through your shoulders and back. You aren’t sure when you start crying, but Bucky gently wraps you up in his arms as something inside him snaps at the sound.
Maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s some of the Winter Soldier’s protectiveness, but he whips out a gun and points at both his best friend and the man trying to kill him.
At this point, they’d both separated, watching in fear at how the muscles in your back shook uncontrollably. They held up their hands, trying to calm the man.
“Don’t get any closer,” he warns, casting a worried glance down to you. Your body’s trying to heal itself, but the stress combined with the energy you’ve expended healing him is making it difficult.
Steve kneels. “Bucky, we’re not gonna hurt her.” He turns to Tony, who hesitates before agreeing.
The soldier turns his full attention back to you. Your eyes are glazed over, brain shutting off to compensate for the pain. He curses, lightly shaking you.
“Мне нужно, чтобы ты сосредоточился на своем исцелении, хорошо [I need you to focus on healing yourself, okay]?” he asks, only receiving a weak nod.
You do as he asks, and Steve and Tony watch as the redness and burns on your back slowly disappear. Ten minutes later, your wings have fully healed, but you’re still in agonizing pain.
Bucky looks up, still soothing you, and shakes his head. “This isn’t worth it. If you want someone to blame, blame me.”
“Buck-“ Steve cuts himself off as you groan. He’s right. This isn’t worth it.
Tony eyes the man, analyzing his tone. If what Steve had said was true, then neither of you had control over who you killed. It’s just a matter of whether or not he believes the Captain or not.
Well, as big as this lie was, he can’t recall the last time Steve lied to him. (At least, about something of this importance. Steve was a notorious cheater at Avengers’ Game Night.)
And he can’t help but feel that he owes you for helping Rhodey. Shit.
“Fine. Fine, let’s wrap up this WWE match. We’ll get you all back to the compound… and figure things out from there.” He sighs, partially in frustration and partially because he just nearly got his ass handed to him on a vibranium shield/platter.
At the two friends’ suspicious looks, Tony rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. If anything, it’s just because I owe her,” he says.
Wiping the blood from his mouth, Steve helps Bucky guide you to your feet, carefully avoiding your wings. Tony follows behind, just in case any of you try to pull something.
Your mind filters in and out as you limp through the HYDRA base. The moment you pass one room, though, you halt.
“The files,” you murmur. “Evidence- Tony-“ The billionaire peeks up. “You don’t believe us? The video proof is in there.”
You muster up a ball of light, gathering your strength and heading into the room. The same one you and Bucky had raided a year back. Neither of you had dared to go through the tapes showing exactly what HYDRA had done to you, but if that was what it took for Tony to believe you, then so be it.
Tony scans the room, FRIDAY pulling information and pointing out one box in particular. He grabs it and a few others, hefting them in his arms.
Through the hallways that stayed standing, you leave the base, spotting the man in the cat suit handcuffing the fake doctor. His helmet is off, and he offers an apologetic smile to you and Bucky.
“I would like to offer my apologies. It seems this man-“ He glares at the doctor. “-had it in his best interest to tear us apart. My name is Prince T’Challa.”
You weakly shake his hand. The quinjet bay opens up, and you, Steve, and Bucky head on as Tony and T’Challa stay back to discuss where to go from here.
You collapse in front of a bench, gently stretching your wings out onto the cold, metal, floor. The pain is dull now, yet the ache isn’t fading anytime soon.
“Are you okay?” Steve asks, hand hovering over your back between the wings. He doesn’t want to bring you more pain, but isn’t sure how else to comfort you.
You nod, sighing. When you turn and see his hand, you chew the inside of your cheek.
“You can… You can touch them.” You stretch your wing out and he tentatively sets his hand on the peak. He runs his hand down the back, passing over the feathers with a sort of reverence.
“I’ll have to teach you how to help wash them,” Bucky mumbles to Steve. “She can’t reach all of the feathers.”
Footsteps sound behind you, breaking the comfortable silence.
Tony steps out from his suit, straightening the cuffs on his suit jacket and holding his harm tenderly. He raises a brow at the super-soldier pile on the floor of his quinjet.
“Well, Three Musketeers, let’s head home.”
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thyandrawrites · 2 years
Note
Does Dabi have big stamina from the training he did for years? Or just pure technique? Sorry, I don't know how strengths and powers work in a fictional story...
I would say just technique, but not stamina 🤔 he's able to mimick moves after seeing them in action, so that means he has an instinctual theoric understanding of the inner workings of a fire quirk. Even Shouto canonically comments on his technique.
As for stamina, however, he doesn't have a lot, but I suspect it might still be more than what he's given credit for by the heroes. I think (but take it with a grain of salt!) that Horikoshi might be trying to show us a certain bias. The heroes are known to have underestimated the villains for two arcs in a row now, and it always comes back to bite them in the ass.
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Take, for example, this scene. This was Hawks' breakdown of Dabi's abilities. He observed his fighting style, the weaker blasts, the steaming, and deduced: oh, you have shit stamina. You've been talking a lot to buy yourself time and hoped we wouldn't notice. Good. We can exploit that to escape while you're stuck attempting to cool down.
And then, bam,
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Dabi chases after them anyway, and with one of his dad's moves to boot. This is the first time Dabi shows us his great technique and control. Till then, he'd only been fighting with big bursts of all-encompassing flames, and nothing about his fighting style indicated that he had any finer techniques or a good battle sense. Yet, Dabi proves them wrong. Not only, despite being near his limits, does he still possess enough lucidity to maintain his body in the air, carefully balanced a few stories high without plummeting to his death, but he also admits to having planned this. He knew his low stamina would be weaponized against him, and he consciously saved strength to make himself last longer.
But how low is his stamina, really? This is where things get foggier. If we are to take Hawks' assessment at face value, then Dabi would have pretty similar stamina levels as Enji. That is, both of them need time to recuperate between firing huge blasts. This reading seems supported by the fact that both are prone to internally overheating and thus putting their lives on the line the longer a fight drags on, and the more huge blasts they fire off:
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Enji appears to have more stamina than Dabi because his body has fire resistance, but if you pay attention to his big showdowns, you'll notice that the longer a match draws out, the weaker he becomes. By the end of the fight against the High End, his internal temperature was so high his vision was blurry, and he couldn't stand up straight without assistance. He sustained injuries from the noumu, but what really took a toll on him was his quirk. Another nod at his weakening stamina in long fights is the scene above. Notice how he's steaming in a way really reminiscent of Dabi.
They share the same quirk drawback. But while Enji's manifests in a boiling of his internal organs that, and I quote, "slows down [his] whole system", Dabi doesn't ever shows that side effect. In fact, in Dabi's case, the result of overheating is the worsening of his burns.
Part of this might be attributed to the numbness to pain he gained after the surgeries:
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Notice the sfx. He's sizzling and burning, yet he doesn't feel it anymore.
But Enji shows symptoms more similar to heathstroke or other overheat-related conditions than that:
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Sweating, dizziness, confusion, plus that characteristic swimming of his vision. As far as we know, Dabi doesn't experience the same kind of drawbacks. Even when he fight a lot, he appears fully lucid, he stands up straight without needing to lean on people or things, and he doesn't suffer shortness of breath like Enji does here. Yet, as he admits to Hawks and Tokoyami, he still needs to pace himself. But why?
My idea (and take it with a grain of salt) is that Hawks' assessment above was only partly correct. Yes, Dabi too needs cooling down time between big attacks, but unlike Enji, it's not because Dabi would collapse from heat exhaustion otherwise. Dabi has an abnormal resistance to that because of his numbness to new burns. A resistance that far exceeds that of other fire users on a similar power scale as him. But, unlike other fire users, Dabi has a body made for an ice quirk, and that's why he needs that time. Unlike Enji, Dabi can fire multiple big blasts in a row without a... System shutdown, so to speak. But if he does, the drawback is expanding his burns. Which, I'm assuming, wouldn't impact Dabi's stamina, but it would substantially affect his body's... Durability, for lack of a better term. Eventually, he'll be more scar tissue than healthy skin, and while he might be able to push through it thanks to his numb pain receptors for the time being, eventually his body will give out under the constant strain of keeping up with an incompatible quirk.
Human bodies, even in a fantasy setting like bnha's, aren't meant to sustain that kind of stress in the long run. That's why Horikoshi introduced the concept of quirk drawbacks. Pushing your limits in a controlled manner like, say, Iida carving out his engines to grow stronger ones, is one thing, but doing so at the cost of permanent damage to an individual's health always spells out trouble.
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The thing is, normally Dabi's a cautious fighter. He knows when to stop to avoid permanent damage. But right now he's in a suicidal mindset and he doesn't care about preserving his strength for later anymore. Since he hadn't felt pain from the burns since he was 16, his holding back was always more for preserving a good enough physical condition to eventually face his dad, rather than wariness of his limits. Now, even that mental limitation is no longer necessary. This is the end of the line, for him, so he's going all out. He won't survive this, so what use is caring about giving his body the time to recuperate, to cool down?
So, to sum it up: I think Dabi does possess some stamina, though not enough to sustain his quirk. His overheating doesn't affect him the way it does his father. Instead of slowing down his body and affecting his lucidity, and thus his endurance in a fight, it manifests as physical burning as opposed to burnout and fatigue. So he spaces out his attacks to try and counter the inexorable progression of said burns, which he cannot avoid entirely, only contain.
While it's true that in the present fight against Shouto he fired off several big attacks in a row, I wouldn't take that as a sign of heightened stamina, then. The steaming and burning were always used as a dead giveaway of Dabi approaching his limits. And now he's burning at a much faster rate than usual. So even if it's true that this fight is probably the longest he's ever fought, I'd say that's more telling of how little he's valuing his life at the moment, rather than of his abilities
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queen-of-the-avengers · 3 months
Text
The Avengers: Part One
Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.2k
Warnings: canon violence and angst
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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You're here. You finally did it. You finally got off that god-forsaken planet. It took months to achieve, especially since Loki's hidden crevasses were super hard to find and navigate. Still, you're back on Earth and ready to help with Phil's Tesseract problem.
You look around the area to assess your surroundings when you notice the Bifrost marking on the ground. The same marking you stood next to after the battle with the Destroyer. You're in New Mexico and you can only assume Fury and Phil are in New York with the Tesseract. After nearly twenty years away from the thing that gave you powers, you have the opportunity to be face-to-face with it again.
The thing that has been the bane of your existence. The Tesseract is the cause of all your problems. If Markus didn't know about it, you might not have been an Avatar. If you're not an Avatar, you might not have found your way to Earth. If you hadn't come to Earth, you would have never met Ikaris, Bucky, Steve, Carol, Fury, Tony, and so many other people who are important to you.
You both hate and love what the Tesseract has done for you. It's time to finally face it.
It takes a normal commercial airplane six hours to get from New Mexico to New York, but you do it in three. Fury hasn't changed his office since acquiring it back in 1995 so it's easy to spot amid all the new stores. It's been a few years since you've been back in this state, and it seems like everything and nothing has changed. There are new stores that weren't here before but the same crowds bustle up and down the streets.
If you close your eyes, you can picture what New York was like in the 1940s. All the modern screens you see weren't there back then. It was crowded with short buildings and billboards that people changed out every week by hand. There weren't the designer-brand stores you see now but mom-and-pop stores that did quite well for their time. Each restaurant had a small space on the strip, but that didn't mean their food wasn't delicious.
Centuries before that in the 1700s, New York was completely a whole different world. The roads weren't paved, everyone rode horses everywhere, and there was no Central Park to hang out in. It's weird how different one city can look every couple hundred years. What will the world look like in 2200?
You walk through the bustling city to get to Nick's office, and you stroll right in as if you belong there. His assistant is baffled when you walk right past him, and you pay no mind to him.
"Ma'am, you can't just walk right in there!" he says and chases after you. You knock once and enter his office, and Fury looks up from his desk. "Ma'am, you need an appointment!"
"It's alright, George. I can handle this."
George mumbles a few curse words before walking away. You close the door behind him and turn to Fury with crossed arms.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Stuck on another planet with no way out. I know it's only been a few months but I'm here now."
"A few months? Try a couple of years."
"What are you talking about?"
"You've been MIA for two years. I thought you were dead."
You fall back into a chair across from his desk in shock.
"No, you're messing with me."
"I wish I was."
"I got a message from Phil four months ago saying you found the Tesseract."
"He sent that two years ago. It's 2012."
You look down and try to wrap your head around the fact that time works differently on Asgard than it does on Earth. Two years. Wow, you can't believe it.
"O-Okay, um, do you still have the Tesseract?"
"We've been permitted to study it a year ago. It's been docile for the most part. We're still trying to see what it is and what its power is.
"I can tell you that. It's not just a cube. It's an Infinity Stone which is very powerful. If you're tampering with it, you won't like what comes out of it."
"See, this is why we needed you here months ago. I just got reports that something is happening at the lab. Care to join me?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
You're a bit eager to see the cube that gave you your powers. It's been calling to you since arriving on Earth, and you can't ignore it anymore.
You and Fury head to the parking garage and meet with his right-hand woman, Maria Hill. You two pile into the backseat while Fury gets hold of the wheel. Without even knowing her, she's a bit apprehensive that you're here on such a sensitive project.
"How do you know Nick?" she asks.
"I'm sure you've heard about what happened to him in 1995."
"You mean the year he lost sight of his eye?" she chuckles.
"Yeah, exactly." Fury gives you a look in the rear-view mirror but you wave him off. "I was there. Carol and I are the reason Nick came up with the Avengers Initiative. The Tesseract is what gave me half my powers. The Tesseract is like a door, a portal that can transport anyone anywhere in the universe. I spent a lot of time studying it."
"Where were you a couple of months ago?"
"Stranded on another planet, but I'm here now."
Fury drives to a helicopter pad that will transport you to the facility they have in the middle of nowhere. Fury must have been building this facility for a while now because it's huge. After all, he had two years to put something like this together. Man, two years. You still can't believe it. This is the place where you can test something like the Tesseract. When you step off the helicopter, you're greeted by Phil Coulson who has taken point for the entire facility. Men in suits run around the place, soldiers jump into Humvees, and a voice bellows from the loudspeakers.
"So much for a device to use if I need you," Phil says when he sees you.
"I am so sorry. I thought it was only four months. I tried so hard to get back here as fast as I could. Time passes differently on Asgard."
"How bad is it?" Fury asks, interrupting your apology.
"That's the problem, sir. We don't know." Phil leads you, Fury, and Maria through the radiation section of the facility. There are tons of signs around warning about the dangers of radiation exposure. Hundreds of technicians and other staff run around, taking only the essentials. It must be pretty bad if everyone is evacuating. "Dr. Selvig read an energy surge from the Tesseract four hours ago."
"Erik is here?" you ask but receive no answer.
"NASA didn't authorize Selvig to test phase."
"He wasn't testing it. He wasn't even in the room. Spontaneous advancement."
"It turned itself on?" Maria asks, surprised.
"Not surprising. It is an energy source," you say.
"What are the energy levels now?"
"Climbing. When Selvig couldn't shut it down, we ordered the evac."
"How long to get everyone out?"
"Campus should be clear in the next half hour."
"Do better."
Phil immediately turns and leaves to help with the evacuation.
"Sir, evacuation may be futile."
"You're suggesting we should tell them to go back to sleep?" Fury asks Maria.
"If we can't control the Tesseract's energy, there may not be a minimum safe distance."
"I might be able to help with that. I have its power. I can try and control it."
"This is why I brought you along," Fury says to you before turning to Maria. "I need you to make sure that Phase 2 prototypes are shipped out."
"Sir, is that really a priority right now?"
"Until such time as the world ends, we will act as though it intends to spin on. Clear out the tech below. Put every piece of Phase 2 on a truck and gone."
"Yes, sir."
"What's Phase 2?" you ask when you continue alone with Fury.
"Need-to-know, and you don't need to know." Man, two years being gone has done a number on him. You two walk into the lab facility holding the Tesseract. "Talk to me, doctor."
Erik looks up at Fury when he looks at you.
"Y/N? I thought you were on Asgard."
"I was. I got out. Are you the only one here? Where's Jane?"
"Nowhere here, thankfully."
You look at the bright cube across the other end of the room and feel a magnetic pull trying to get you to come closer. The longer you stare at it, the more you're mesmerized by it. Your hands glow a soft orange without your permission. Fury does a double take at you and places his hand on your shoulder. It's enough to snap you out of your trance.
"What? Sorry," you shake your head.
"What can you tell us, Doctor?"
"The Tesseract is... misbehaving."
"Is that supposed to be funny?"
"No, it's not funny at all. The Tesseract is not only active, she's... misbehaving. She's an energy source. If we turn off the power, she turns it back on. If she reaches peak level..."
"We've prepared for this, Doctor. Harnessing energy from space."
"We don't have the harness. Our calculations are far from complete. Now she's throwing off interference and radiation. Nothing harmful, just low levels of gamma radiation."
"That can be harmful. Where's Barton?"
"The Hawk? Up in his nest, as usual."
You look up to see one of the first agents Fury recruited for his Avenger team. You have not yet had the pleasure of meeting him, but you are now.
"Agent Barton, report."
As Clint is making his way down, you look at Fury in concern.
"Erik is right. You can't harness energy from space. Humans aren't that advanced."
"This facility is." Clint approaches Fury from behind, and the older agent turns to the younger one. "I gave you this detail so you could keep a close eye on things."
"I see better from a distance."
"Hi, I'm Y/N."
"Yeah, I saw you two years ago trying to get that hammer."
"Right."
Why are you feeling like you don't belong here? The only thing you have in common with everyone else is the fact that you have the same power as the Tesseract.
"Are you seeing anything that might set this thing off?"
"No one's come or gone. There hasn't been any contact from it. If there was any tampering, sir, it wasn't at this end."
"At this end?"
"Yeah, the cube is a doorway to the other end of space, right? The door's open from both sides."
The Tesseract has flares coming out the sides of it. Energy is pouring into the room rapidly, so much so that it shakes the entire facility. It's big enough that Phil and Maria can feel it from where they are on the other end of the facility.
The flaring rings and glow of the cube spout out brighter and louder, like a boiling pot of water. The Tesseract's energy builds up into a beam much like the Bifrost Bridge, which hits at the end of a platform that is wired to the device the cube sits on. The beam forms a vortex which opens a portal much like what you can do on your own.
Everyone is on alert now that the door has been opened. Everything is still for five minutes. No one is breathing, moving, or doing anything that might disrupt the Tesseract's power. Suddenly someone steps through the portal with his head down. He is heavily breathing as if he had just run a marathon. He is holding a staff in his hands that looks like Gungnir but has a glowing gem on the sharp end of the staff.
He looks up to address the room and your heart stops. It's Loki. He died. You watched him fall to his death. He looks around the room at everyone before locking eyes with you. He seems to go rigid at the thought of facing you once again. After two years of not seeing him, memories come rushing to the surface of your mind.
He's coming. Someone tipped him off and he's on his way to get you. Asgard is preparing for another fight not knowing if Markus is coming for more than just you. It's been a year of peace away from the horrors of Markus. You've fallen in love with Loki; you can't bear the thought of leaving him.
You and Loki are in his room. There are sounds of battle happening in the castle. You can hear Markus yelling for you.
"I don't want to leave here," you cry in Loki's arms. "Please don't let him take me. I want to stay with you."
Loki pulls you close and kisses you passionately as if it's going to be the last time. Your tears mix in with his kiss but he doesn't seem to mind. You were meant to be in his arms. He fits so perfectly around you. His lips were made to kiss yours. He pulls away from you and rests his forehead on yours.
"I love you, Loki. I am in love with you."
Loki's tears fall down his cheeks as if what you said pains him. He kisses you once more before cupping your cheeks in his large hands.
"I am so sorry," he whispers.
"For what?"
He doesn't answer. His magic glimmers around you and seeps into your head, and your eyes shine green to match what he's doing to you. The next thing you remember, you're back on Xenia with Markus.
The bastard really did take your life from you. You were so much in love with Loki that you begged him to save you. He turned you in instead.
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spookyspacegorl · 11 months
Text
Say You Love Me
Peter Quill x Fem!Reader
A/N: Hey all, feedback is much appreciated. I wrote this while listening to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac.
Warnings: Light swearing, kinda suggestive but mostly fluff.
Word Count: 2.4k
Send me any requests you have!!
Peter looks himself over in the mirror of the cramped ship bathroom, lifting his shirt to assess the damage from his latest escapade. He ran his hand over the substantial red and purple mark that splayed across his lower left ribs, wincing at the sting of his own touch. 
It wasn’t like him to take damage during these missions, but his mind had been wandering when a large mammal-like creature had trampled into his middle, knocking the wind straight out of him as he fell into the hard dirt. He had been able to pull himself together in time to take the creature out before it could do more damage. Rocket had made some comment, “Get your head out of your ass Quill,” or something similar, earning a glare from Peter. He decided not to snap back at Rocket this time. He didn’t care. His sole focus was to finish this mission, get the hell out of here, and get back to Knowhere.
He pulled down his shirt, smoothing it over the bruised area. He gave himself one last once-over and ran his fingers through his hair, lost in thought.
The first time he saw her was about a year ago. The Guardians had been celebrating a victory at their usual dive on Knowhere when she walked in with a small group of what looked to be junkers. As Drax told a story about a battle long before he joined the Guardians, Peter couldn’t help but steal glances at her, occasionally nodding to make sure Drax thought he was really listening. 
After ordering at the bar she had found her way to the dance floor, drink in hand. She laughed and smiled widely while she danced to every song. She was beautiful, there was no question about it. But most of all, she looked like she was having fun.  The kind of fun he wanted to have with someone again. As he watched her dance, a few songs passed and Peter couldn’t help himself any longer. He stood up –Drax giving him an inquisitive look as he wasn’t finished with his story– and walked over to the dance floor, squeezing past a few drunken dancers as he made his way to her. 
He grabbed her hand and spun her around and without hesitation, she continued dancing with him. They danced for a few songs before a word was said between them. 
“I’m Peter,” He shouted over the loud music.
“Y/N,” She said with a smile, reaching out her hand. Instead of shaking it, he took the opportunity to twirl her around again. She giggled as she spun around, the sweet sound of her laugh making Peter’s heart skip just a little bit. 
They danced for two more songs until she took his hand and led him to the bar. They ordered drinks and talked for what felt like forever. He learned that she was from Terra, but found out a few years ago that her Great-Grandfather had been from Xandar. Earth never felt like quite enough, so she used it as an excuse to take to the stars to find something more. She linked up with a group of junkers a few months prior to meeting Peter. 
He contemplated how much about himself he should tell her. He didn’t want to scare her away by divulging too much about the past few years. Talking about losing Gamora may be too heavy a topic for the first time he’s put himself out there in so long. He decided to omit that detail for now, instead telling her about how he was picked up and raised by ravagers when he was a kid. Her eyes told him that she was intently listening as he spoke, her hips still swaying ever-so-slightly to the music in the background. He didn’t know her well, but what he did know is that it had been so long since he’d felt this way when talking to someone.
They ordered drink after drink, talking about the coolest places they’d seen in the galaxy, the best spots on each of the major planets to grab a drink, and their favorite songs to listen to while cruising through space. 
Peter took her back to his place that night. The memory of how they ended up there was hazy from all of the drinking. But what wasn’t hazy was how her skin felt against his, and the way she looked when she was breathing heavily, her head tilted back in a pleasurable daze. He wished he could put that night on repeat, living it over and over and over again. He tried to tell himself that this would be like every other one night stand he’d had before, but he couldn’t deny that he hoped she would still be there in the morning.
He awoke, tangled up in the sheets, a headache creeping behind his eyes from the few too many drinks he’d had the night before.
She was gone. 
He laid back and stared at the ceiling, weighing his disappointment. He knew better to expect more than just a night of fun. Usually he was the one to leave when the sun started to rise. But this just felt different. He got up, trying to shake off his discontent, continuing on with this day like any other, except for the occasional thought of y/n that crossed his mind.
Weeks passed, and he did his best to keep himself busy. Ship upgrades, small solo missions, anything to keep himself distracted. He had heard the whispers from the other Guardians–Rocket commenting on his uncharacteristically quiet demeanor, Drax wondering why he had been overly productive lately. He had visited that dive bar every so often, hoping she would be there again, but to no avail. Mantis could sense Peter’s disappointment every time he returned. 
Six weeks had gone by since their night together. At this point his expectations were low. He sauntered up to the bar to order his usual when someone leaned against the bar next to him.
“Come here often?” y/n said with a smirk. Peter’s eyes widened. 
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He replied, a shit-eating grin on his face. 
The night was nearly a carbon copy of their last night together. They talked, danced, and laughed together for hours, eventually ending up in Peter’s bed again. But this time, he couldn't doze off to sleep. He laid on his back, his fingers in her hair as she slept with her head on his chest. As the sun crept up he felt her stir so he pretended to be asleep as well. She rose from the bed quietly and began to collect her clothes from the floor. 
“Wait,” Peter said before she could reach the door. She turned around and looked at him. Her hair was a tangle of curls, her make-up smeared from sex and sleep, but somehow she still looked exquisite. “I want to see you again.” He mustered, unable to think of anything more clever at that moment.
“You will.” She smiled, and then she was gone. 
Peter still had no way of contacting her or knowing when she would be back. But somehow he knew that she was telling the truth.
Every day got a little easier because every day was closer to when he would see her again. He would go back to that bar every few nights, laughing and sharing stories with the Guardians, patiently awaiting y/n’s return.
And she did come back. Again, and again, and a few more times. He was under her spell. He lived for the next moment that he’d see her. It was the first time he’d been truly whole again since losing Gamora. Eventually their routine changed and she would stay the night every so often.They would see each other in the daylight, sometimes working on a project together, taking the ship for a joyride, or walking through the streets of Knowhere. One thing that never changed, though, was that she would always leave Peter guessing when she would be able to return. 
Months passed, and Peter was almost content. He loved spending time with y/n. He loved everything about her. But he just wished she would stay. He had brought it up a few times, but she always responded with a lighthearted: “I have a galaxy to explore, Peter.” Each time making his heart ache just a little more.
His upbeat mood started to turn slightly more solemn after each of the last three times he saw her. He day dreamed about the life he wanted with her, causing him to be dazed at the very worst moments. He narrowly avoided an asteroid the time he was thinking about the way her small frame looked in one of his big t-shirts while he was piloting the ship. On a mission to retrieve a stolen necklace for some royal on another planet, it slipped out of his hand as he thought of the way it would look resting on her delicate collar bones, almost costing them the job, had Groot not been able to catch it. And this time, as he looked up at the stars and imagined being able to go to sleep next to her every night– he was ambushed by some big ugly creature.
That was the last straw for him. He couldn’t take the pain of seeing her leave anymore.
He made his way to the bar, knowing the last trip she had been on had come to an end yesterday. She should be there. He took a seat at the bar and ordered his usual, his foot tapping nervously as he dreaded what he had to do next. 
She walked into the bar, a grin plastered across her face the second she saw Peter. She walked up to him and placed a loving kiss on his lips, but pulled away when she saw the expression on his face.
“What’s going on, babe?” She asked, her brows furrowed. Peter froze. He had gone over this exact moment again and again in his head, but couldn’t come up with the words now that it was actually happening. 
“Let’s go look at the stars,” He said, forcing himself to smile. Peter took her hand and led her outside. They sat on a nearby bench and he looked up at the sky. y/n looked at him with a concerned expression. Peter took a deep breath. 
“I love you, y/n, but I’m not strong enough to watch you leave again.” His eyes threatened tears that he held back. He looked at the ground for a moment, and then at her. “I can’t ask you to leave the life you love and stay here with me instead. So I have to ask you to stay away.” He looked away, trying to hide the few stray tears that he couldn’t control. He was overwhelmed with emotion. He didn’t want it to end this way, or at all. But to ask her for the life he dreamed of would be selfish, and to keep things unchanged would continue to wear on his heart. 
They sat in silence for longer than comfortable. He looked over at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes close to tears. She gave a small, forced smile and said “I love you too, Peter.” She kissed his cheek, stood up and walked off into the night. She was gone again.
When she was out of ear shot, Peter let out a quiet fuck under his breath and let the tears come. He had finally felt whole after losing the woman he loved, and now he had to actively choose to let another slip through his fingers.
Rocket walked out of the bar, noticing the state Peter was in. He walked over and hopped up onto the bench next to him. Neither of them said a word, but Peter felt Rocket’s hand rest on his shoulder.
In the following weeks, Peter got back to distracting himself. Taking on every single mission he could, no matter the danger. He was quiet and cold to the other Guardians, rarely leaving his quarters without a purpose.
The Guardians were preparing for a longer trip than usual this time, and Peter was going over plans for how to get around a particularly challenging field of small, island-like planets. Nebula was organizing provisions with Drax ‘supervising her,’ stealing snacks when she turned away. Mantis and Groot were taking inventory in the cargo hold.
As Peter focused on the plans in front of him, he heard the soft sound of Rocket’s paws enter the room. He didn’t look up. 
“So uh, Quill..” He started. Before he could finish, Peter heard another set of footsteps approaching, and the sound of an overstuffed duffle bag hit the ground. He raised his head, puzzled. 
“y/n,” He squeaked, standing up.
“Yeah uh… I’ll give you two a minute.” Rocket said, backing out of the room.
Why is she here? He thought. He was happy to see her, but dreaded the inevitable sting of her having to leave again. He couldn’t speak.
“I’m not leaving again.” She said, as if she could read Peter’s mind. He walked towards her slowly, as if she would run away if he moved too fast. He still said nothing. “I didn’t know what to say that night. I thought you were right. I couldn’t just leave everything. I love exploring and adventuring and seeing as much of the universe as I can. And I thought I could walk away and let you be happy without me.” She stepped closer. “But all I could think about was how much I’d rather be doing all of those things with you. I came back a couple weeks ago and I met with Rocket. He told me how much you were hurting, and he asked me if I’d want to try out going on all those adventures with you guys instead of those lame old junkers.”
Peter embraced her tightly, never wanting to let her go again. He could see Rocket down the hall crossing his arms with a grin.
“Let’s go get you unpacked.” He said to y/n, grabbing her hand and leading her to his… their quarters.
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i-did-not-mean-to · 9 months
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In another life, I'd come for you
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This one is for @ettelene (sorry if all the commas are wrong lol). Eh, it's a sort of fix-it, I guess...
You said "any pairing", but we both know what pairing comes to mind lol
Warning: Please be advised that Fëanor and Fingolfin are indeed half-brothers.
AU Prompt: Enemies to lovers
Dialogue Prompt: I didn't know you cared.
Words: 1018
Characters: Fëanor x Fingolfin
Warnings: Fight, blood, injury, innuendo (which counts as incest)
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Fingolfin buckled under the vehemence of his enemy's last blow—fey, cruel laughter echoed in a storm of deafening mockery all around him.
He had fought valiantly, and thus he felt no shame as he ultimately had to admit defeat.
With a final, desperate thought of his beloved children, he let his weary head drop and prepared for the dark blade to descend.
Sparks—dancing like fireflies in the stale air—filled his vision, but the expected pain failed to cleave through his muscle and bone.
An all too familiar grunt of impatience and frustration resounded, and Fingolfin dug deep into his reserves of strength and willpower to pull himself up and face this new threat.
"Get up, you ass," Fëanor barked tempestuously. "Stand and fight!"
This fever dream, seemingly conjured up by an exhausted mind, wielded his gleaming blade with ferocious, self-forgotten determination, driving back the looming peril with vicious, reckless strikes.
A new burst of energy surged through Fingolfin's sore flesh—he had not seen his father's favourite son since that very weapon now standing between him and certain death had caressed his own throat.
It had been so long, and yet the wound of Fëanor’s prolonged absence had never truly healed.
Shaken by an involuntary fit of throaty laughter, Fingolfin threw himself back into the futile battle—he might well die on this day, but at least he would not die alone and unwitnessed.
He had too many enemies by far, he realised, despite his earnest efforts to be as agreeable to everyone as possible.
Here, at the end of the world, he was faced with the two most dangerous ones—locked in lethal combat for his life—the Dark Lord whom he hated with all-consuming, soul-destroying intensity, and Fëanor, whom he loved too much to forgive him for having deserted the familial fold in a fit of petulance and unjust wrath.
Drawn inexorably to his half-brother’s intense light, Fingolfin entered the furious fray, heedless of the danger, as a moth rushed to die in the embrace of a mercilessly burning lamp.
Side by side, those two valiant sons now fought as if the years of separation had been erased, and they were still but training in their father's courtyard before dinner.
After an eternity, the Lord of Death and Destruction took advantage of a lull in their attacks to flee headlong—he seemed less confident of his inevitable triumph now that two opponents were unleashing their wrath and unspoken frustration in flurries of strikes and slashes that wouldn’t abate despite their evident weariness.
"After him!" Fingolfin cried hoarsely.
"You are bleeding," Fëanor stated with strenuous equanimity, his broad hand—trembling with exertion—coming to rest on the dented plate of Fingolfin's armour. "Let me see how bad it is."
"I didn't know you cared," Fingolfin smirked cockily even as a strange sensation of pure joy mitigated the painful fatigue in his heart and body.
The touch of a cool hand sliding into the nape of his neck to steady his head as he was lowered to the ground felt wonderful, and he gave a little sigh of relief.
"You have always been such a fool," Fëanor chided harshly. "What were you thinking? To come out here all alone?"
"I would not lead those I love—my little brother or my sisters—into peril." Fingolfin pushed away the fingers methodically undoing the clasps of his armour to assess the severity of his injuries by touch alone.
Indeed, Fëanor's incandescent gaze was unwaveringly glued to the pale, tired face of one who had always confused and irritated him with his invincible charm.
"Maybe," that prodigal son hummed, "you understand me better now—love can make us do the dumbest things."
"You left," Fingolfin murmured, too worn out to care about how pathetic he sounded. "For all your faults and your irascible temper, we've missed you. I missed you."
I loved you—and you left. The sentence was left unspoken, and yet it seemed to reverberate through the devastated valley.
Fëanor’s hands clenched into fists at his side; he needed to focus on his task, he could not let himself be distracted by the things he would have to explain and apologise for later. They would be inconsequential if Fingolfin died of his injuries while he himself was drowning in reluctant self-recrimination.
Consequently, he bent over the prone figure to take up his meticulous investigation of the bleeding gashes and spreading bruises once more.
When he was finally satisfied that the one he had cherished and dreaded all his life was not dying, Fëanor lifted Fingolfin into his arms and turned to the hazy silhouette of finely wrought towers in the distance.
He had not been in the city for too long, he now understood, and it was time to make amends for the hurt he had caused the very people he had believed to protect by pre-emptively removing his intolerable person and his burning passion before they could harm those, he held most dear.
"I am home now," he whispered fervently, kissing Fingolfin's brow tenderly. "You are safe! Rest now, brave son of Finwë, you've done well, and the day is ours."
“Does this mean you are my enemy no more?”
Fëanor recognised the tell-tale shiver in the other’s voice —Fingolfin had always betrayed his hope and affection by the subtle, involuntary shifts in his inflexion—and smiled.
“I never have been, dearest, but I admit that I let you believe that for fear of what else I could be to you,” he then replied, tightening his tender hold on the weakened body cradled in his arms.
“As you’re everything to me,” Fingolfin sighed dreamily, “you might be my enemy as well.”
“Right now, I am your minder, and you are tired and hurt. Shut up and rest—when you awake, you shall be lying in your own bed.”
“Will you be there?” There it was again, that thrum as of a bow being readied for the fatal shot.
“I promise,” Fëanor said, feeling the cold, hard head of the arrow burrow deep into his heart.
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@fellowshipofthefics: Here's the second for this month!!!
Thank you, @ettelene for this lovely prompt!
I am struggling both physically and mentally right now, so I'll be slow in posting, but I have written (or at least gotten a first draft) of all the requests I've gotten so far!
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accursedkaleeshi · 9 months
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I was procrastinating on two pieces so hard I drew something else. Here is Ayaan! Daddy's little droidsmith, the chatterbox herself.
650 words about getting her ingdore under the cut!
At the start of the clone wars Nute Gunray (salty that Grievous stole his flagship) & San Hill (just a sociopath) convinced Dooku to let them send a small attachment of droids to "capture" Bryaru. Dooku had just killed her father to put his own guy in his gracious Separatist senate spot & Dooku was aware that a particular few of Grievous' wives were befittingly temperamental. So he was like "you idiots can try but don't let that shit come back to me"
So like a handful of B1s & a couple B2 battle droids are deployed in the general area they knew GG's house was. They lost a couple droids to the jungle but showed up the compound. The last time droids were there it was to escort the wives to Hill’s cruiser so they could behold their 87% dead husband. The poor stupid B1 in charge barely got out a jovial “Hello-!” before Mertenzi put a harpoon through it.
The flimsy B1s didn’t stand a chance. The B2s were harder to take down, however. Seeing their mothers puzzling how to proceed with minimal rocket damage to their family & property, Ìgira had just the plan.
Ìgira (12 years old) & Ayaan (7 years old) escaped hearth lockdown to run to dad’s workshop. Neither of them were very impressed. Why would they send droids to dad’s house? Their dad had been troubleshooting these same droids for Ayaan’s entire life. That was stupid. Two grown corporate lifeforms were about to lose their expensive battle bots to two wild space jungle kids.
Ìgira dug through his father’s old datapad. The Bank had always sent Grievous home with a prototype B2 super battle droid for “security”. Grievous did not like this & did not want the thing on his planet. So, naturally, he had a list of commands it would take to render it inert & leave it in his ship.
Ìgira found these commands & gave them to Ayaan, whereupon they booked it back to the front of the compound. One B2 had its wrist rockets trained on the nearby asiil pen, assessing chicken threat levels. The other was repeating its primary objective to the mothers hunkered in the foyer. Mertenzi shrieked when she saw two of her children standing out it the open. Ìgira gave her thumbs up. It was not comforting.
He seemed very sure of this plan. Not only was Ayaan the chattiest of all his siblings, she knew how to read out technical jargon. And she was very loud. It would be easy. As long as these droids still accepted vocal command prompts. It hadn’t occurred to either of them that said feature might have been dropped for security concerns.
“Unit!” Ayaan had barked in a very Grievous-like manner, “State primary objective!” There was a very tense couple of seconds while the mothers that did not understand Basic were baffled as to why their small child was yelling at these droids. The B2 at the door stopped its diatribe, did an about left & restarted its directive from the top. This included its designation. Ayaan was able to use its designation to issue a standby command, which was a long string of numbers & letters. That was when she learned, around the same time as clones around the galaxy, that a B2 super battle droid was only as good as its commander.
While Ayaan bossed the other droid into standby, Mertenzi had reloaded & demolished the first with her harpoon gun. Ìgira & Ayaan managed to convince moms to let them shut down & dismantle the second one after Ayaan asked it a hundred questions, as children do. Ayaan’s ingdoré is made from this droid. It took her quite a while to grow into. She still tried to wear it around sometimes. It made a very satisfying gong sound when she ran into doorjambs.
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gaykarstaagforever · 20 days
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The 1990s comics "Rob Liefeld Revolution", along with the speculation boom that created AND immediately destroyed it, produced a lot of poorly-aged comic book jank. We know this.
What many of us do not know is that it also inspired a similar sea-change in that market that is always eager to rip off whatever is currently making the most money: Christian book stores.
Which brings us to Eternal Studios 1993 Archangels: The Saga.
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(Just a note: this ENTIRE book is printed on slippy magazine-cover paper. I took these pictures in a room barely lit by a distant lightbulb and STILL couldn't get rid of the glare. Never before have I worked so hard on something so utterly pointless, and I post comics content on Tumblr dot com. God bless my phone for doing its best to make any of these even bearable.)
This "saga" apparently lastest exactly 9 issues, before the company, Eternal Studios of Houston, Texas (because of course) went bust. Or so I assume. I haven't found any information on them online, and I Googled for way longer than I'm willing to admit.
Archangels: The Short Saga is the story of a group of men who are given metal armor and vague superpowers by God to fight demons, or something. This is just the first issue and I've never seen any of the others, and this is just the origin story of one of the guys, so I don't know. And I won't be finding out, because a) the Internet doesn't know what this is, and 2) any of the physical copies of these cost between $30 and $60 online. Because Evangelical Christianity is an eternal grift, ever since it was started by an unemployed man who claimed to be a wizard, but then suspiciously didn't use any of his powers to stop himself from getting tortured to death. And then his 12 unemployed friends decided they REALLY didn't want to go back to work.
This comic fits well into the religion invented by those people, in that whatever their God is doing here, it doesn't make a lot of sense. He already has an army of angels who battle demons. Why does He need to empower human men to do it, too?
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The art here is...well. Given the era, it is fine. It is a step above the typical Liefeld, in that basic human anatomy is understood and replicated. The most distracting thing is the mid-90s digital coloring, which absolutely loves that lensflare.
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See?
Also, and I want to be clear here, "good" and "bad" assessments of art are, to me, vaguely technical determinations. Like, art can be good, but a book can still be stupid and boring. Conversely, art can be bad, but can still be used in a way that is rad as hell:
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And if the 90s - in comics, and in general - are notable for one thing besides Nirvana and Friends, it is how radical to the MAX everything was. We were not doing subtle nuance in 1993.
I got this book as a gift in like 1997 (it is a 1996 "second printing"), and I loved these splash pages. I was about 5 years into comics at that point, but with limited access in my area and under the yoke of the Assemblies of God church, so this was edgy and cool to me at 15. I had many bad Christian comics at that time, and this wasn't one of them. So kudos on that...?
It isn't even badly written. It is vaguely preachy, but specifically about how drunk driving is bad, and I'm not about to argue that point, even if you're only saying that because JESUS.
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The blue-and-orange metal suit man from the above screamy splash page becomes that because he is the shotgun passenger in this car (I think). He gets killed in this crash, and the Angel of Death harvests all the souls except his, because God needs him to be Metal Angel Superman. Because of...protests? And gang crime?
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Evangelical Christians who live in the suburbs conceive of evil as exactly two things, icky hippie protests and urban gang violence. This was true in 1993, and is true now.
They also only know about "wild parties" from tracts Jack Chick published in the 1960s. Note how these cool 90s young people are smoking cigars and drinking brandy from Old Fashioned glasses.
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Overall, as an intro to a series, this is fine. Weird metal He-Men are fighting the Devil in the name of God, and there have certainly been worse ideas, and worse introductions to them. But it also hardly encourages anyone to want more of whatever this is. Like, it's an American Evangelical Christian comic: even if there ARE any fight scenes, everything will end with some speech about how Jesus is better than pills and gangs, and some brawny white man in a polo shirt will do the Sinner's Prayer, then probably marry his best (blonde) girl. They all have one note, even if they're playing that note during the heady days of the 90s comics wasteland.
There is exactly one short video on YouTube about this book, and the guy is way too generous. Have you ever read this? Are you, along with me and that guy, one of the 10 people who remember this comic?
Those ten people include the three guys who made it.
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God, that fucking slippy paper.
Paying premium prices for this shit is probably why they went bust.
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The Pains We Endure | Chapter Four
Masterlist | Ao3
Chapter Summary: Edith prepares for her dinner with Aesop, looking forward to the future for the first time in a while. When the evening doesn't go as planned, she's forced to make a decision that earns Aesop's disapproval. (Aesop Sharp x OC)
Chapter Rating: M (We're getting a little darker now)
Chapter Warnings: Use of unforgiveable curses (the full trifecta, but no gory details), death (non descriptive), allusions to abusive relationship
Word count: 5.2k
A/N: This is the longest chapter yet, and the last update until sometime in December. I really loved writing this one, I hope you enjoy! 4 of 6.
Fifteen minutes was twenty minutes too many to be late for an engagement, but Edith found she was quickly exceeding it. Peeves had chosen the worst evening to prove that ink bottles were not suitable for juggling, which made Edith and several students delayed in leaving the library.
Edith certainly couldn’t rush getting ready. She had always taken an appropriate amount of pride in her appearance, but tonight was special. Never in her life had Edith wanted to look nice for someone, but she felt that way now. Perhaps it was a challenge. Aesop’s respect was hard won, after all. Or perhaps she simply liked the way he looked at her, a subtle gleam in his eye.
“A little of both.” Edith muttered to herself as she peered at her reflection, taming a particularly stubborn lock of hair.
Once she had triumphed, Edith took one last assessing look in the mirror. She wore a blue dress, modest in design and a little behind the current fashions, but it suited her figure nicely. Edith owned little jewelry, but the simple silver stud earrings and ribbon necklace met her preferred amount of subtlety. Everything in place. Edith wondered for a moment if the silver comb, with its little metalwork flowers, was too much, but she decided it added just the right amount of sparkle to her black hair.
Checking her watch, Edith quickened her pace. She couldn’t bear to use floo flames, the idea of soiling her dress with soot enough to make her itch. Surely Aesop would forgive her tardiness when she explained what kept her.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies had made a home in her stomach. Edith had not done something like this in… Well, she had never done something like this. Courtship. Or was she reading too much into Aesop’s invitation? What if she did something wrong? Each step that brought her closer to her destination heightened her anxiety.
And yet, she felt excited at what tonight could be. Thoughts of the night he almost kissed her were almost enough to keep her warm in the chilly evening air. It was colder outside than she had realized, even once she entered the bustling village.
The Three Broomsticks was just coming into view when she heard it.
A voice that made her steps falter, her blood going cold. Fear froze her breath in her lungs.
“Ello, Edie.”
Edith slowly turned to face him. Until the last second, she could think she was mistaken. She could pretend it wasn’t true. But of course it was. He hadn’t changed at all in two years. His dark hair was a little longer, his cheeks a little thinner, but those hazel eyes still bore into her with a dark intensity. Instinctively, Edith shrunk back.
“Jasper.”
“Don’t make a scene, now. Walk with me.” Jasper took her arm, feigning the role of a suitor, and pulled her forward. Battling a wave of fear-induced dizziness, Edith stumbled before falling into step beside him.
“How did you find me?” Edith hated how her voice trembled in fear. Couldn’t she even pretend to be brave?
“Can’t hide from me, Edie.” He flashed her a sinister smile. “But you know what I want. Just give it to me, and I’ll leave you alone.”
Edith wrenched her arm away from Jasper. “No! I’m not telling you anything.”
He grabbed hold of Edith again, shushing her. Jasper pulled her into the shadows, trapping her against a wall. “What did I say about making a scene? You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”
Hardening her gaze, Edith met those cruel hazel eyes as they narrowed at her. “I-I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
Jasper drew his wand, holding it between them so it wasn’t obvious he was threatening her. “Then maybe I’ll remind you why you should be.”
Aesop was not overly concerned at fifteen minutes past the hour. Any number of things might have delayed Edith for such a short amount of time. At half the hour, he was sure she would be only a moment more, and ordered a firewhiskey before Sirona lost her patience.
With three quarters of the hour past, Aesop was not sure how to feel. Edith would not stand him up, he could not believe that. What if she had doubts? What if something serious had happened?
His pocket watch told him what Aesop accepted as the truth. It had been an hour, and Edith wasn’t coming. He drained the last of the firewhiskey and set the glass on the table with a thunk.
The sting of rejection and the uneasiness of concern warred within Aesop as he stepped into the chill night air. He was a man who always knew what his next move would be, but now he felt uncertain. Should he return to Hogwarts? Or take a walk through the village to clear his head and wait a little longer?
Aesop liked to think it was instinct, not wounded pride, that led him down the village lane to the right. Up past Zonko’s, which seemed intolerably cheerful to him tonight, ignoring the witches and wizards he passed going about their business.
As he reached Pippin's, Aesop paused, wondering if now might be a good time to discuss those ingredients for a cure. But it was getting late, and Aesop saw through the windows that he was closing up for the evening. The cold was getting to him, each step jarring the ache in his leg. Aesop just couldn't bring himself to go back yet.
He turned toward the bridge that spanned the creek running through the village. The moon was bright overhead, lighting up the cobblestones in front of him, the trees, the little house on the cliff.
That was when he saw her.
Edith stood at the edge of a cliff behind the Hog's Head, staring into the rocky water below. Aesop couldn’t see her face, but he could tell even from this distance that she looked pensive. She swayed in the chilly breeze, a breath away from pitching forward.
“Edith?”
She didn’t respond when he called out to her, and his tone shifted from confusion to alarm.
“Edith!”
The distance was short, but the terrain was difficult with his leg. He took a shortcut, clambering over the dilapidated stone wall between the bridge and the house, swearing when his limp almost caused him to pitch forward. Edith remained unmoving and silent when he called her name again.
A change seemed to come over her as Aesop finally reached her. Edith yelped in surprise, eyes widening in fear at the drop below, as if she didn’t know what she was doing there. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back from the edge. Aesop took her shoulders, prepared to ask her what the hell she was doing, when he heard a voice behind them.
“Might try staying out of things that aren’t your business. She was never going to fall, or jump, if you were worried.”
Aesop turned to the man, his argument dying on his lips. He recognized the face, only this time it was no boggart. Aesop drew his wand. “Stay back.”
“No need for that.” McNair looked around anxiously. “Edie and I have some business to discuss, don’t we, Edie?”
“I’m not telling you anything, so you might as well kill me.” Edith tried to put a bite in her voice, but it fell flat.
“That won’t do me any good, will it?” McNair demanded, stepping forward, wand raised.
Aesop stepped between them. The man was clearly volatile and not afraid to use unforgivable curses. McNair must have used imperio to get Edith to the cliff. He couldn’t rush this.
“Aesop, no,” Edith said behind him. “Please, just go.”
McNair looked at Aesop and laughed. “You make a new friend, Edie? He the best you can do? Well, maybe he’ll fare better than your last ones.”
“Expelliarmus!”
McNair deflected Aesop’s spell with a flick of his wand. “Call off your guard dog, Edie. Don’t want to make a habit of getting people killed.”
They were attracting attention now. Voices and pointing fingers directed to the three of them. Aesop saw McNair’s eyes shift as it put him on edge. Distracted him.
“Stupefy!”
Aesop’s spell would have hit true, but McNair disapparated in the knick of time. He turned to Edith. Her gaze was fixed on the spot where McNair had disappeared, mind somewhere else entirely. Edith shivered, but whether it was from the cold, fear, or a combination of both, he couldn’t tell.
He shrugged his coat off and draped it over her shoulders. Its green hues contrasted with her blue dress. Not that Aesop had an eye to notice such things.
The suddenness of the warmth, eclipsing the cold she felt within and without, brought Edith’s mind back to the here and now. Her heart raced and her fingers were numb, but Edith was suddenly aware of two conflicting, life-altering truths.
She looked up into Aesop’s inscrutable gaze. “Why is it you always appear when I need you?”
“Edith.” This time, his gaze did not soften when he spoke her name. “I think we should talk.”
With Aesop’s hand at her elbow, they made their way to the Three Broomsticks in silence. Edith hugged his coat closer. It smelled like him, and that was a comfort. It was a scent she wanted to commit to memory.
Once they settled in a corner, a cup of tea and a firewhiskey sitting between them, Aesop fixed her with a stare.
Edith studied the pattern of the wooden table, feeling his eyes on her. “Go ahead. Ask me.”
“This man clearly has some kind of hold over you. What did he mean by getting people killed?”
Taking a deep breath, Edith finally looked up and met his steely gaze. “This is not an easy story for me to tell, Aesop. But I think you deserve to know exactly what happened that night.”
Aesop settled in his chair, lifting the glass of firewhiskey. His stare remained fixed on her, giving her the whole of his attention. “Go on.”
A drink of tea for courage, and then a deep breath. “It all started when our friend Simon quit his job at the auror office. He had found this book, you see…”
June 15, 1887
Flames crackling in the hearth were the only source of light and sound in the little house. Hands shaking, Edith tied together bundles of herbs for drying, but her mind was not on her work. Edith's thoughts remained on her friends, and the strange book they were delivering to a trusted contact. How they put themselves in danger to make sure it did not fall into the wrong hands.
How she was useless with the kinds of magic that could help them. No, Edith's talents were with her enchantments and her plants and finding obscure knowledge in books, but she could never fight. Her housemates never let her forget that.
Four resounding cracks echoed in the room. Edith dropped the bundle in her hand with a start, sending herbs across the floor. She jumped up when she saw Finn, leaning heavily on Iris, his arm bent and bleeding.
Zara's authoritative voice cut through the air. “Is Jasper here?”
Edith shook her head, leaning in to look at Finn's arm. "I haven't seen him today."
“I knew it,” Zara growled. “Edith, I’ve told you for weeks, ever since I overheard him talking to that Malfoy fellow in the Leaky Cauldron. You can’t trust him!”
Zara hadn’t realized the impact her warnings had on Edith. She had noticed things about Jasper since Zara had pointed it out: the way he acted around them, the way he treated Edith when they were alone. It had culminated in an argument with him last night. Too little, too late, as they say.
"I know, I didn't-"
"He'll know we've come here to regroup," said Simon. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute and he won't be alone."
"We could go into hiding. The place we talked about last year." Zara glanced at everyone in turn.
They all knew the place in question. The location chosen to regroup if something went wrong. None of them would dare speak it aloud in case someone was listening, but they all nodded in understanding.
They all felt a shudder through the air. The wards Zara and Simon had placed on the house before they left were being attacked. It wouldn't be long now.
“Zara, take the others and go,” Simon said, his voice low. “I’ll hold them off.”
“Simon… no,” Zara pled.
“I’ll join you if I can. We can’t let anyone get the book, you know that.”
Zara looked between Simon, the others, and the door, then back to Simon. She kissed him twice, and touched her forehead to his. “I love you.”
Edith was gathering her apothecary box on the other side of the room. She couldn't leave without it, especially given the state of Finn's arm. Jars rattled, Edith's hands shaking as she hurriedly scooped up everything she could. She heard the other behind her, snatching up essentials they could apparate with.
"Bombarda!"
The door flew inward with a crash, dust and plaster pluming in the air. The tall, imposing presence of Jasper McNair filled the doorframe.
Until this moment, Edith hadn't had to admit to herself that she had been wrong. That she had been foolish and naïve. That she had put her friends in danger because of it. But now he stood there, a wicked smile on his face that he had never dared to wear in front of her before, and there was no more doubt. No more pretending. This was all her fault.
"Jasper, no!" she cried, pulling his attention from the others for a split second.
“Stupefy!”
Edith fell back against the wall as the spell hit her squarely on the chest. Her head spinning, she could just comprehend what occurred next, at the fringe of her senses.
Simon stood protectively in front of the other three, his wand pointed at Jasper. "Zara, now!"
“Sorry, Edith,” Zara muttered as she, Finn, and Iris disapparated.
Simon and Jasper traded spells, the lights bright in Edith's eyes as she slowly got to her feet. She fumbled for her wand.
"S-Stupefy!" The spell hit, but it did not flare with light like ones Jasper and Simon flung at each other.
Her fear would be her undoing.
The distraction it created was enough to give Simon a small opening, and he took advantage of it. He hit with another spell, knocking Jasper backward.
"Enough of this!" Jasper screamed. “Avada Kedavra!”
“Simon!” Edith screamed as the man fell to the floor with a thud.
Jasper stood and brushed himself off. He turned his stony gaze on Edith.
"Jasper... Why?" There were so many questions wrapped up in that one little word. It felt pointless to ask now.
Jasper chuckled. “You always thought you were so clever, Edie. But you were too easily molded. Bet you don't feel so clever now.”
Edith swallowed. Manipulated. Used. Lied to. She had wanted to be wanted so badly that she was blind to all of it.
He advanced toward her, smirking. “But then, you’d never suspect me. I said I love you, didn’t I?”
He stopped in front of her. “You’re such a silly girl, Edie.”
"It's over now, Jasper," Edith said, her voice shaking like the rest of her. "The book isn't here and the others are long gone now."
“But you know where they went. Why don’t you stop being silly, and just tell me where they took it.” He closed the distance, trapping Edith between himself and the wall. “Just tell me the truth, and I won’t have to hurt you.”
“No.”
Edith could never make up for the harm she caused, but she didn't have to make it worse. Even if it killed her.
Jasper grabbed her by the hair, wrenching her head back, lips twitching into a smirk when Edith cried out. He pressed the tip of his wand to her throat. “You know you don’t like it when I’m rough with you, Edie,” he hissed in her ear. “Well, you don’t know how rough I can be.”
Edith strained against him. “I’m not telling you anything!”
Jasper yelled in frustration, throwing Edith to the floor. “We’ll do it the fun way, then.”
“Crucio!”
Edith reached for her tea, the end of her tale hanging between them, suspended in the tense silence. She felt the weight of it on her shoulders, keeping her head bowed.
“You make it easy for him to exploit it. The way you blame yourself.”
Edith finally looked at him, her brow furrowing.
“Why shouldn’t I? I led Jasper right to them. It could have been two against one, but I couldn’t help Simon.”
“You tried. That counts for something.”
“But not enough,” Edith argued. “If I hadn’t been so useless, he might not have…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word.
Aesop leaned forward, laying his hand atop hers. “Edith, Simon knew what he was doing. Your friend Zara had suspicions of her own about McNair and barely acted on them. It was not your fault alone.”
“But I do share the blame,” Edith pointed out.
“Do not forget that I understand exactly how you feel. I caused the death of my partner. Indirectly, perhaps, but much of the fault lies with me. I know there is nothing I can say that will take away your guilt. But history need not repeat itself if you learn from it.”
Edith sighed. She looked down at Aesop’s hand resting on hers. Silence stretched between them. Edith knew there was wisdom in his words, but her heart would not listen. All she saw were visions of Jasper McNair hurting people - killing people - because she did not act.
"What now?" Aesop's voice cut through those images, bringing her gaze to his. "What will you do?"
Her heart sank. Edith knew exactly what she would do. "I must speak with Matilda."
Edith was pensive as they made their way back to Hogwarts. Aesop's coat still enveloped her shoulders, and she held it close. She was getting used to its weight, its warmth.
"Thank you, by the way. I never said." Edith gestured to the coat.
He answered with a wry smile. "It looked like you need it more than I."
When they entered the castle, she reluctantly shrugged it off and held it out to him. It made her feel comfortable. Protected. Things she didn't want to feel in the conversation she had planned.
Aesop quirked an eyebrow as he took the coat back, sliding it onto his broad shoulders. His gaze traveled over Edith, briefly, taking in her appearance properly for the first time that night. Edith was a little disheveled, but the overall effect of her efforts was not diminished.
The night was not supposed to be like this.
Under Aesop's gaze, which was quickly filling with concern at the look on her face, Edith steeled herself. Then she headed toward Matilda's office.
Aesop struggled to keep up with Edith’s purposeful strides. She almost hoped he would give up - he would not like what came next, she just knew it. But their difference in height made up for the mobility difference, and he was never far behind.
Matilda looked up in surprise when Edith waltzed into her office without knocking. “Edith, you look lovely this evening. Whatever is the matter?”
“Jasper has found me. We just encountered him in Hogsmeade.”
Matilda’s face fell. “My dear, I’m so sorry. Were you hurt?”
“No.” Edith’s gaze slid to Aesop, and Matilda seemed to understand. “But Matilda, you know what this means. I have to leave Hogwarts.”
“Edith,” Aesop objected at the same time Matilda tutted.
“Dear girl, you cannot be serious.” Matilda came around to the other side of the desk. “Aren’t you tired of running from him? We could fetch the aurors, have justice served.”
Edith shook her head. “You know he has friends in the ministry. He’ll just get away again.”
Aesop stepped up beside her. “This cannot be your answer to what happened.”
“Jasper is dangerous. We all know that. If I stay, I’ll be putting innocent people in danger. Maybe students. I can’t do that. I won’t.”
“He’s a wanted man whose shown his face in the village,” Aesop reminded her. “He won’t act rashly.”
“Aesop is right. He wouldn’t take that risk, not now. And he cannot reach you here at the school.”
Edith took a steadying breath. “My mind is made up. There is a train to London from Hogsmeade Station tomorrow evening. I will be on it. Perhaps one day I can return.”
Matilda frowned, folding her arms. “Stubborn girl.” She looked at Aesop, as if to say “Maybe she’ll listen to you.”
“I’m sorry, Matilda. If I could see any other way… But I just can’t.”
“I hope you change your mind, Edie.” Matilda’s voice filled with concern and irritation. “If you come to your senses and realize you have other options, you know where to find me.”
Aesop was silent as he escorted Edith back to her quarters, their paces evenly matched. She sensed the irritation coming off him in prickly waves.
“I know you are trying to find the words to convince me not to leave, but there are none. I have to do this.”
“No, you don’t. As Matilda said, you are safe here. You have paths you may not have had before. Choose another.”
His tone reminded her of when they first met, the one he no doubt used on his students often. Impatience. Disappointment.
They came to a stop in front of her door, and she turned to face him. “I know what Matilda said. She isn’t always right.”
“Of course she is right, and you know it.” Aesop looked her over, his gaze softening a little. “And it’s not the only thing she was right about.”
“What do you mean?”
He cupped her face, his warm palm fitting softly against the curve of her cheek. “You look lovely, Edith.”
Their gazes locked for a long moment, seeing visions in each other’s eyes of what the night might have been like if things had gone as planned. Edith could see his mind at work, plotting, surely, before he turned away. She watched his back as he limped to his own rooms.
Their eyes met one last time before he went inside, and Edith felt a pang of something in her chest.
Two years running from Jasper.
It had never felt so painful to leave a place before.
A clatter resounded through the study as Mirabel set her teacup down with an exclamation. “What do you mean? You can’t just up and leave in the middle of the school year without an explanation.”
"It's almost time for Christmas break. I'm sure no one will feel my absence when classes resume."
"Edith, that's simply not true."
Mirabel took Edith's shoulders and turned her around, forcing her to look up from the books she was packing. The earnestness in the redhead's eyes was touching. "I miss you terribly already. As will Matilda. And you know Professor Ronen will miss those little charmed flowers you leave everywhere."
A smile flickered over Edith's face for a moment. "Well, I'm sure you will manage without me."
Mirabel sighed. "I just wish you would tell me what's wrong. Perhaps I could help."
When Edith didn't answer, Mirabel pressed. "Did something happen with Professor Sharp last night?"
That was enough to elicit a reaction. Edith's head snapped up. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Well, yesterday you were so excited about having dinner with him, and today you are leaving. Was the evening not what you expected?"
Edith felt a flutter run through her. It was dangerously close to the truth, while being dangerously incorrect at the same time.
"No. No, Aesop has done nothing wrong." Her voice was soft. "Quite the opposite."
"I'm glad to hear it. But it doesn't explain why you are leaving."
"It's a long story," Edith said, turning back to her bookshelf. "But it is necessary."
The redhead's brow furrowed. "You are doing little to assuage my worry."
"I know." Edith wasn't sure how to tell Mirabel that she should be worried. Edith certainly was.
"At least promise to keep in touch."
A sad smile. "I shall do my best."
Edith surveyed the room. She had packed up the most essential items in her trunk, but she could not take everything tonight. "I suppose I'll have to arrange for the rest to be delivered."
“I will look after these plants for you.” Mirabel gestured to the few that Edith had to leave behind. They were common plants, things that Edith could easily pick up and grow again when she settled for a while. Edith carefully stored the rare, difficult plants in her trunk, using enchantments. “You have a few hours before your train, don’t you? Say you’ll join me for one last cup of tea.”
Swallowing back tears that threatened to break her composure, Edith smiled. “One last cup.”
In the midst of a restless night, Aesop had come to a decision. An idea that might convince Edith not to leave. Something that would make her understand that everyone at Hogwarts wanted her to stay.
That he wanted her to stay.
Thus, he spent most of the day preparing what Aesop expected to be a grand gesture, especially coming from him. When he was prepared, when the words were in his mind, he made his way to Edith's quarters. Aesop glanced at his pocket watch. An hour and a half before her train.
Just enough time.
But when he arrived, finding the door standing open, Aesop was surprised to see Mirabel sitting in front of the fire. Edith was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Edith?" He did not bother with ceremony, impatience coloring his tone.
Mirabel looked up in surprise. She was apparently finishing a cup of tea as she stared into the fire. She stood and walked toward him. "Aesop, do you know why she's leaving?"
"Where is she?" Aesop repeated.
"She received notice that the train timetable was misprinted. It leaves an hour earlier than she expected." Mirabel shook her head. "Edith has already left."
“Damn!”
Aesop thrust what he was holding into Mirabel’s hands and stormed down the hall.
She looked down in confusion, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. "Aesop?" Mirabel called after him, but he ignored her.
Aesop had never realized that Hogsmeade Station was so bloody far away. Even employing the use of floo flames, he had underestimated the distance.
Of course, he had never wanted to get there so quickly before.
He almost sighed in relief when he saw Edith standing on the platform, no train in sight. Bathed in the golden colors of the fading sun, the sadness etched on her features was prominent. Her anxiety was obvious in how she clutched the handle of her satchel. Edith was staring down the tracks, watching for the train, though Aesop could guess the train itself was the last thing on her mind. He reached the edge of the platform and called out to her.
Roused from the private pity party in her mind by the sound of her name, Edith looked up. “Aesop?” His limp seemed more pronounced, and he was out of breath as he joined her on the platform.
"You were going to leave without saying goodbye?"
"I couldn't find you. I thought you were angry."
"Furious."
"You came all this way to tell me that?"
"No." Aesop sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I came to tell you that you are acting like a naïve child, repeating the same impulsive mistake you’ve made several times in the past and expecting a different outcome.”
Edith stiffened, her eyebrows lifting. His tone was not especially harsh, but his words were wounding. “Your point?”
"Is that who you want to be?"
Scoffing, Edith shook her head. "We can't change who we are."
"Of course we can. We have no power over the things that happen to us. But we have a choice in how we react to them." Aesop closed the distance between them, dark eyes intense as his gaze met hers. "You have a choice now, Edith. Fear or bravery. Do you let him win? Or do you refuse to let him hurt you anymore?"
“Don’t you understand? I don’t care that he hurts me. Only that he hurts others to do it. If that means a life of caring for no one so that he can’t use them, then I’m willing to accept it.”
A frustrated growl force itself past Aesop’s lips. “Is that really want you want? To spend your life running away? He will always have this hold over you unless you free yourself from him.”
“I can’t even defend myself from a boggart!”
“Then you’ll learn.”
Edith faltered. It sounded like such a straightforward solution when he said it like that. As if it was that simple.
Aesop took her hand, his fingers tightening around hers to emphasize his words. “You’re not alone anymore. You have a faculty full of experienced witches and wizards who would help you. We can figure this out together if you stay.”
His rationale was an assault, tearing holes in the walls Edith had constructed. Leaving had always been the easier option. She had been resolved, had made peace with the pain of walking away from Hogwarts. It was different this time, no matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise. The very thought of leaving her friends, her colleagues, had filled her heart with anguish, but Edith had buried it because she knew it was the right choice.
Aesop was not a man to let things stay buried.
Flurries of snow descended around them, and Edith blinked one from her eyelashes. “I told you no words could convince me.”
“I know.”
Aesop’s hand found her waist, and he tugged her close. He pressed his lips to Edith’s, a kiss so passionate and tender that it far surpassed her imagination. It didn’t last long enough, and she soon felt the bite of cold air where his mouth had been.
“Stay with me.” his husky voice growled in her ear.
Edith stared up at him, her heart racing. She didn’t know what to say. Maybe she didn’t need to say anything. Her fingers grasped his lapel, and she pulled him into another kiss. Edith dropped her satchel to the ground, her fingers curling in his hair as she leaned into him. The kiss grew heated, their mouths moving in harmony. The rest of the world melted away so completely, Edith almost didn’t notice the sound of the train pulling into the station behind them.
Their lips parted, but neither of them moved. They stared at each other, catching their breath. Aesop raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”
"You really think I can learn?"
"If I can teach Weasley not to blow up a cauldron, I can teach you to defend yourself."
"But you haven't taught Weasley not to blow up a cauldron."
Aesop chuckled. "I'm expecting you to be a better student."
His fingers danced over the back of her neck. "Say you'll stay."
Her voice was a whisper against his cheek. "I'll stay."
Aesop's arm around her waist tightened, and their lips met again. As the snow fell in earnest, Edith filled with a warmth she had not felt in years.
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phoneboxfairy · 2 years
Text
Catalyst - Nalu Angst to Fluff fic
Ao3 link -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/39602091
Lucy Heartfilia was a strong wizard. Smart. Kind. Compassionate, with the patience of a saint in most cases.
Most.
See, there was one specific topic where her patience was wearing thin. Simply put, Natsu Dragneel was getting on her nerves.
To be fair it wasn’t really his fault. He was clueless about everything except battle, so he probably didn’t realize he was doing anything that could be perceived as wrong.
Hence Lucy’s growing frustration. He had all the romantic proclivity of a rock. By all accounts he didn’t know or care about love. So she had long since resigned herself to the fact that they would never be more than friends.
Not that she would ever admit to interest in any such thing out loud. No, better to just let it go.
Of course it would be easier to just let the matter rest if not for one fact.
Natsu was clueless about boundaries and personal space, especially Lucy’s. What was once simple, almost innocent, was now aggravating.
In Lucy’s mind the jealousy was somehow worse than the groping.
Ah, yes, that was it. She wanted to at least try to strike out on the dating scene. The thing is, that particular endeavor was impossible when there was always a territorial hothead nearby.
Take today as an example. The team was enjoying lunch at a small cafe attached to the hotel they were staying at. A young man approached Lucy and they began talking. He seemed nice enough, charming, and handsome.
“Got any plans for tonight?”
Lucy blushed and smiled. No sooner had she opened her mouth, she felt the air get warmer.
“Yeah. She’s going with us on a job. Got it?”  Fire was in the pink-haired boy’s eyes and fist. He was mad? Well, let him be. Lucy was flat out pissed.
“Y...Yessir. Some other time, then.”
“Sorry. It was nice talking to you.” The young man took off, not daring to so much as look back. Lucy got to her feet, shot Natsu a dark glare, and made her way to her hotel room.
She ignored his shouts and attempts to get her attention, locking the door behind her.
Meanwhile, at the cafe, a very concerned Wendy and Gray moved to investigate the situation further. They made it halfway across the room before Erza stopped them.
“No, let them be. They have to sort this out on their own.”
That was that.
Lucy couldn’t ignore Natsu’s knocking for long. In fact, he was so persistent about it she stormed over and opened the door, still glaring.
“What could you possibly want, Natsu?”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing, that’s all. Ya seemed really mad earlier and…” His smile faded as he saw her expression. “...I guess you’re still mad.”
“How very perceptive of you. Why wouldn’t I be mad? I haven’t had a date in forever and you ruined it!”
“That guy was a creep!” “No. He. Was. Not.” Her attention was momentarily averted to the exceed in the corner. “Happy, could you give us a little privacy?” “I...I’m not sure. You’re not gonna kill Natsu or anything, are you?”
Privately, Lucy wasn’t ruling that out.
“No, we need to talk, that’s all. I’ll buy you some yummy fishies tonight…”
Happy’s tummy rumbled at the mention of his favorite food.
“Deal. See ya later, Natsu, as long as she doesn’t kill ya!” With that Happy flew off, leaving the two wizards alone.
“Privacy, huh? Because of some guy?” “It’s not...No. There’s more to it than that. Something’s been bothering me for a while and I’m tired of letting it slide.”
“Letting what slide? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you, Natsu. We’re friends, right?” “Yeah. Have been for years.” He had a confused look on his face. Other than that, he seemed almost uncharacteristically calm about the whole thing.  Like he was assessing the situation.
“Well…” She took a deep breath, exhaled. “Friends have boundaries. And lately you haven’t been respecting mine. Being friends doesn’t give you permission to grope me whenever you want, and it definitely doesn’t mean you can act jealous when someone else expresses interest. We don’t have, uh, that sort of relationship. Not that you have any interest in that sort of thing.”
Dead silence for several long moments. Natsu’s confused look was gone. Now he was gazing intently at Lucy.
“...Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Yeah. I am.” He stepped closer. Then he took her hand.  His gaze never left her. “You’re kinda dense, you know?”
“What?!” Lucy’s emotions were already swirling around and her heart was racing feeling her hand in his. Now confusion and a bit of rage were added to the mix. She wanted to scream at him...but knew that wouldn’t solve anything. “What do you mean?” “You’re so smart, but you don’t see somethin’ that’s right in front of you.” Quick glance at their hands. Was that the beginnings of a smile…?
Lucy wasn’t sure. She was, however, quite sure that she hadn’t expected him to react quite like this.
“What’s...right in front of me…?”
“Me. Duh. You really couldn’t tell I liked ya, that I’ve liked ya all this time?” Wide eyed, Lucy could only blush in response. Natsu’s expression softened a bit. “Come on, Lucy. I can hear your heart racin’ right now, just like every time I take your hand.” He stroked his thumb over her palm. It felt nice, pleasant, soothing. Natural.
Now his actions made sense. Now she understood why he always acted like a protective dragon around her.
It was a shock, to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. In fact, Lucy realized, this new development solved her problem from earlier.
...although at the same time it created a whole new problem. She sighed, pouted, her gaze shifted to her feet.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He lifted her chin, quirked his head. She sighed again, feeling, irrationally maybe, like she could burst into tears.
“I...um...I l, like you too, Natsu but…What if this ruins what we had? Our friendship. It...it means everything to me. You mean everything to me.”
“Yeah, but what if it makes us stronger? That’s a chance I wanna take.”
“Me t-too…” She stepped closer to him, bit her lip, dared to look up into his eyes. Speaking of chances, there was one she wanted to take. “Natsu?” “Yeah?”
No verbal response. She got up on her tip-toes, close enough to see the light flickering in his eyes. So close, almost dangerous. She leaned closer, going for what she hoped would be a sweet moment.
Instead she lost her balance. Stumbled from her tip-toes, bonked her forehead on his chin.
Luckily Natsu caught her before she could embarrass herself further. She had to admit she rather liked feeling his warm, strong arms wrapped around her.
At least until she heard him snickering.
“It’s not funny…” A dramatic sniffle for effect.
“You’re right. It’s hilarious.” His laugh was infectious. Lucy had to bite her tongue to keep from cracking up right along with him.
“Fine, jerk…” She made a pouty face. “I wanted to try a kiss, but if you’d rather laugh at m--!!!”
Lucy’s protest was effectively silenced by the feeling of Natsu’s mouth on hers. A little clumsy, since neither of them knew what they were doing, but not bad.
Eventually she pulled away to breathe, then rested her head on his shoulder.  
Before either could think of anything to say there was a rather timid knock on the door. Happy peeked in, eyes wide.
“Natsu? Lucy? Erza said to meet in the lobby.”
Right. The job. Somehow in the drama of the afternoon both had forgotten that they had a job to do. Lucy took a step back, exhaled.
“Hey Natsu?” “Yeah, Luce?” “Stay with me tonight? After the job, I mean. I...want some company, that’s all.”
“Sure.” Natsu looked confused but at least he was smiling as he held out his hand. “Let’s go.” His smile was so bright, so contagious, that she didn’t hesitate. She smiled and put her hand in his, then they met up with their teammates and set out on the afternoon’s adventure. Things were different, in a way. They all noticed the way Natsu and Lucy walked hand in hand. It was hard to miss the way Natsu made it a point to protect Lucy at all costs, standing between her and the beast throughout the fight. He was always protective, but never to this level, at least not until today.
And once the beast had been vanquished, Lucy hugged Natsu. He didn’t mind at all.
Happy snickered. Gray rolled his eyes. Wendy giggled. Erza said nothing, only smiled a knowing smile.
That night the pair lay side by side for what seemed like hours, talking, bonding, and sharing the occasional gentle kiss. Happy was snoring on one of the extra pillows. Eventually Lucy yawned, having trouble keeping her eyes open. She snuggled into his arms. He rested his forehead on hers. In moments both were snoring, glad to enjoy a moment of peace after what had been a rather interesting day.
Sure, things were different, but it was a good change…
~Fin
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