#extended quadrants | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angstywaifu · 8 months ago

Text

Happy Birthday To Me - Garrick Tavis x Reader

A/N: Couldn't not post a birthday themed fic on my birthday about my favourite Fourth Wing/Iron Flame man. Thank you to those who gave me ideas for it! And thank you for all the birthday wishes! Warnings: 18+, Smut (only a small amount and implied)

To everyone else today was just another day. Another day in the riders quadrant. Just the way I had intended it to be as I stretched out in my bed. I extend my hand out to find the space next to me empty and cold. I open my eyes to see Garrick who was there when I had fallen asleep was gone. Had been for some time apparently. I couldn’t help the slight hint of sadness that washed over me.

Garrick and I were just friends with benefits. Close friends with benefits. He didn’t always stay the night, most of the time opting to go back to his room to try keep our arrangement a secret. But part of my had hoped today he would be there when I woke up. On my birthday. A silly hope considering he didn’t know when my birthday was. No one in the quadrant did. I’d never had a good birthday when I was younger, my parents usually forgetting or claiming to be too busy. And once they had died with the end of the rebellion, I didn’t want someone else to disappoint me. So I never told anyone. The group of people I now considered close friends always asked. Nearly three years later none of them knew. But someone did. Out of the corner of my eye, sitting on my bedside table was a card leaning up against a small box, a dark green ribbon wrapped around it. My favourite colour. I push myself up, manoeuvring to sit in the spot Garrick had been in when I had fallen asleep last night. I reach for the box first, the child in me wanting to see what awaited inside seeing as I’d rarely gotten gifts on my birthday. I open it to reveal a black choker, with a small green gem hanging from it. It was beautiful. I had pointed it out a few weekends ago in town when we had all gone down on one of our rare days off. Meaning this could have only been from someone in our friend group who had gone that day.

We walked through the main road through town. Our voices and laughter echoing off the walls as Imogen tells us a story about Bodhi becoming a flustered mess around a girl he was interested in. Again. For someone who grew up around Xaden and Garrick who were the epitome of confidence, Bodhi was the complete opposite most of the time, and it made for a lot of moments like this. As we pass by one of the few jewellery stores in town, something catches my eye. I drift away from the group as they keep laughing at Imogen’s story. In the window was a choker made up of thin black leather cord , and hanging off it was a beautiful green gem. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. I must have been gone from the group longer than I had realised as a familiar presence joins me. I don’t have to look up to know its Garrick. His shadow easily fell over me without even trying. And his smell easily gave him away. The familiar scent of leather, musk and cinnamon I had grown so use to other the last few months. A smell that I swear was permanently on that side of the bed he always laid on.

”What you looking at?” He asks as his eyes scan the items in the store window.

I point my finger at the choker on display in the middle of the window display. “Just that choker. Nothing special.” I tell him.

”Why don’t you get it then? Seems you really like it.” He pushes. I really must have been standing here looking at it longer than I realised.

I shake my head. “I’ll just end up losing it in a challenge or something. Just thought it was pretty.”

With a final look at the choker, I smile up at Garrick before wandering back to the group standing a few feet behind us.

Had Garrick gotten this for me? If he had, he would have gotten it while we were there. But why wait till today to give it to me? I had never told him when my birthday was. Hadn’t uttered a single word about it since the day I had gotten here. There was no way he knew what today was. I place the box on the bed in front of me before grabbing the card that had been placed with the box. I open the card to find the very familiar scrawl I knew belonged to Garrick. I had sat next to him in nearly every class after he had befriended me in Gauntlet training back in first year. I would know his handwriting anywhere.

I promise you’ll never lose this. I’ll make sure of it.

Head to where we first met - Garrick

I move faster than I ever have before. Jumping out of bed and pulling on my uniform and brushing my hair in record time. I’m halfway across my room when I remember the necklace still in the box on my bed. I rush over and grab the necklace. My fingers fumbling nervously on the clasp as I try to secure it around my neck. After many failed attempts I manage to finally clasp it together. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips as I catch my reflection in the mirror. The sun hitting the green gem on my neck just right, casting a subtle green glow around it. It was beautiful. I don’t even hesitate as my feet take me towards the gauntlet. Garrick and I had technically met before the training sessions had started. We we’re in the same squad. But until gauntlet training had started, we had never uttered a single word to each other. Not even a hello. And as I round the corner into the gauntlet I know my gut feeling was right. Exactly where we had said our first words, had our first interaction say another box with a green bow. Right where Garrick had saved me from falling to my death.

I didn’t have enough momentum. My footwork was all wrong as my body jerked forward on the third last post. I was falling and I was going to die. I close my eyes so I don’t see it coming. Don’t have to watch my death come to me. But suddenly I’m not falling forward. The wind rushing around me gone. Instead I’m swinging back up as something grasps my arm. I thud into something solid, before we both topple to the ground, rolling into the next obstacle. I lie there in shock, my eyes still shut. There was no way I hadn’t died. My mind was playing tricks on me. It had to be. But a deep voice pulls me from my thoughts and has me opening my eyes.

”Hey, are you ok?”

I open my eyes to see the biggest cadet in our squad and probably the entire quadrant looking down at me. Worry etched on their face and in their hazel eyes. Still in shock from almost dying all I can do is nod my head. Clearly he senses I’m still in shock as he grasps my hands and pulls me up with him. I barely reach his shoulder as we both stand on the small landing. The landing I was very close to not being on if it wasn’t for Garrick. Who I could have sworn was half way up the next obstacle as I started mine. He should have cleared it by the time I had started to fall. He should have easily cleared it by then.

”Think you can make it up the next one?” Garrick’s question pulling me from my thoughts.

I turn to look at the upwards climb we would have to make. Something I could easily do. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

”Good. I’m Garrick by the way.” He holds his hand out to me.

I grasp it, his hand dwarfing mine instantly. “I’m Y/N.”

This time I had easily made it across the posts. Right over to the box on the small landing. I kneel in front of it, pulling off the green bow. Inside was a wooden carving of my green dragon. A wooden carving I knew Liam Mairi had done. I had seen him making carvings for some of the other riders. And I had dropped hints multiple times I would love one of my dragon. He kept telling me he would get to mine. But I had a feeling mine had been done for a while as I had only started asking recently. Underneath the wooden carving is another note from Garrick.

I’m glad I caught you that day. Even though I didn’t know you, I hate to think how my life would have turned out if I hadn’t.

Meet me where it first happened - Garrick

I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face as I read his note, or the way my heart beat increases ever so slightly. The others had always joked I brought out the best in Garrick from that day onwards. I had to take their word for it, as Garrick had never changed in my eyes. He had always acted the same around me. I turn and climb up the last of the Gauntlet. Thank god once we cleared this on presentation day we didn’t have to do this to get up to the flight field every single time. Even with it being far easier now than it was back in first year. As I pull my self over the top I head straight for the stairs to take me back down to the quadrant. The only place my mind went to with the words ‘meet me where it first happened’ was his room. So that’s where I went.

”F-fuck, Garrick.” I practically moan.

Garrick’s hands grip my thighs tightly, keeping me firmly seated on his face. His tongue licking slowly over me, before wrapping his lips around my clit. My hands gripping his head board tightly as my body trembles and my toes curl. Garrick’s name was tumbling from my lips with every stroke. I gasp out loudly as his tongue probes my entrance, Garrick’s hands gripping my thighs tightly in response. I feel his groan rumble through me as I grind down on his face, his nose grazing my clit, a loud moan escaping me again. One of his hands moves from my thigh to firmly grasp me ass, encouraging me to move back and forth. I whimper as he removes his lips from me, earning a chuckle from Garrick. I had been so hesitant to do this, and now here I was whimpering at the loss. But he quickly replaces the loss with his fingers. I instantly clamp around them, head rolling back in pleasure.

”Fuck Y/N, you look so pretty like this. Way better than I ever imagined.” His voice dropping an octave lower somehow. “Look at you coming undone on just my fingers and tongue.”

All I can do is moan and whimper in response as he adds another finger, curling them inside me. I nearly collapse at the feeling. Garrick and I had barely started and he already had me falling apart on top of him. As Garrick sucks on my clit again, my whole body starts shaking, my climax quickly approaching.

”That’s it sweetheart. Let go. Come apart on my fingers.” He mumbles against me.

And I do. Hard and loud as I moan and scream his name.

My hand hovers over the handle to Garrick’s room, shaking slightly as my heart beats loudly and fast in my chest. The green bow on the handle telling me I was in the right spot. Meaning Garrick was most likely inside based off the wording of his note. On the other side I pick the faint sounds of someone pacing back and forth. Was Garrick nervous? Garrick who I had never seen look phased or scared of anything in the time we had been here. Yet hear I was listening to his pacing back and forth. I suck in a deep breathe and turn the handle and push open the door. Garrick who was pacing towards the other side of the room turns quickly and looks at me. A smile gracing his lips as his eyes lower to the choker still clasped around my neck. I look around the room, and situated on the desk is a cupcake from one of the bakeries in the local town with green icing on top. Next to it what looks to be a book with some slim boxes stacked on top, secured together with another one of the green bows. Garrick had known today was my birthday. There was no denying it.

”How did you know?” I ask him as I walk over to the desk, Garrick standing behind me and placing a hand on the small of my back.

”Lets just say I have my ways.” He says with a chuckle. I don’t have to turn to see the smirk that will be on his face.

”What ways? I’ve never told anyone here when my birthday was.” I tell him as I undo the bow holding the book and boxes together.

Garrick watches silently as I open the first box. Inside was a new set of daggers. Tyrrish runes decorated the handle. They were gorgeous. The next box held a new set of charcoals to go with the sketch book lying underneath.

”Being a section leader gives me access to information on all the cadets under me.” Cadets that included me as I was in his section. “I had also noticed over the last two years, that you always seemed off around this time of year. That something bothered you. So I already had my suspicions.”

”You didn’t have to do this.” I tell him as I turn and look at up him, trapping me between Garrick and the desk.

Garrick just smiles and reaches up and brushes some of my hair behind my ear, then resting his hand on my cheek. In my rush I hadn’t done my usual braid or bun, leaving it to hand loosely around my face. Something I knew drove Garrick crazy. He loved it when I’d let it down during our more intimate moments.

”I did. I needed to do this for you. Can’t have my girl hating her birthday.” He tells me softly.

Garrick was always good at keeping his emotions off his face. But his eyes always spoke what he was trying to hide. I could see the nervousness in them, the slight darting around my face to see how I would react.

”You’re girl? We’re just fr-”

”What if I wanted more? Wanted more than just some heated moments in each others beds. But kept convincing myself I couldn’t have more. What if I was stupid enough to fall for one of my closest friends.” He pleads, resting his forehead on mine.

”Good thing we’re both stupid then.” I say.

I briefly catch a smile on Garrick’s lips before they’re on my own. Our hands pulling at each others clothes as he guides us towards his bed, two piles ending up on the floor. I go to grab his hand to pull him down to the bed with me, but he smacks it away as he kneels in front of me, pulling me towards the edge of the bed.

”Today is all about you darling.” He says, his voice dropping an octave lower than normal, bringing out the husky tone that he knows I love.

I go to object, but my words are silenced by my moan as Garrick runs his tongue along my centre and pushes his fingers inside me. Happy birthday to me.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x oc #garrick tavis smut #garrick tavis x you

171 notes · View notes

corzydoie · 1 month ago

Text

Sketches of Goodbye

Author's Note: This is my first work, so all feedback is welcome. I have ideas for part 2, but let me know if you guys want one! Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Lando wakes up after a long day of racing, celebrating, and traveling hoping to see you in his apartment. Instead, he sees an email that prompts a conversation that neither of you wants to have.

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warnings?: Literally only one curse word and one mention of a kiss. That's it

You were sat at your desk in Lando’s bedroom in Monaco, the television behind you playing the Singapore Grand Prix at a deafening volume. Still, despite your boyfriend’s amazing first place, you were too locked into the project you were currently working on to register the loud cheers and screams. The British national anthem began to play as Lando stood on the top step of the podium, but all you knew was that the music was messing with your focus, so you reached for the remote on the bed next to you and turned the TV off. Now you could finally finish the sketches you stayed up all night working on.

Lando opened the door to his Monegasque apartment, careful to not make too much noise. He knew that you stayed at his place as opposed to your own during race weekends you couldn’t attend. As it was the middle of the night in Monaco, Lando was surprised to see the light in his bedroom still on. Perhaps you stayed up late again to finish another project, or you had another late-night design session due to a spur-of-the-moment inspiration. He tried his best to tiptoe into his room and found you knocked out at the desk he had set up for you. He stood next to your sleeping body as he looked over the messy spread of sketches. You had been between collections and projects and he recognized one of them as a new line of Quadrant merch, which he never remembered asking you to do. That was one of the reasons Lando loved you, even without asking you were finding ways and doing things to help him out and further his brand. Even though he didn’t know the first thing about design, he could sense your passion and talent from the simple lines of graphite on paper. Lando decided against waking you up since he knew you must’ve been exhausted, if the large amount of paper, both new, old, and crumpled, littering his room was any sign. After changing into his pajamas, he turned off the desk lamp by your head and tucked himself in for the night.

When Lando woke up, he took a quick look at his phone to check the time. “1:15 PM” he read off the screen. He was so tired after the race he slept into the afternoon. He lifted his head to see if you were still asleep at the desk at the foot of his bed. As he expected, you were no longer there. Perhaps you were in the living room or the kitchen. He got up and groggily dragged his legs to find where you could be. Despite not seeing you in the other half of his apartment, he did spot your open laptop on the breakfast bar with what seemed to be a half-eaten lunch. He walked over to see if you were perhaps in the process of digitizing and colorizing your designs, only to find that wasn’t the case. He was instead met with an email addressed to you from what he could only assume to be a design company.

It read:

“Hello y/n,

Thank you for expressing interest in our brand and submitting your portfolio. Due to a large quantity of submissions and interviews, we apologize for any delay in response. After careful consideration, our team has decided that you would be a wonderful addition and would like to extend an offer of employment…” Lando heard your keys at the door and looked up to see you entering his apartment with a package tucked under your arm. Upon seeing your boyfriend in front of your open laptop, you immediately knew what he saw. You were both frozen in place as the situation started to sink in.

“Heeeyyy,” you exhaled, trying to relieve a bit of the tension.

“Hey,” Lando briefly replied. You slowly closed the door, afraid that the slightest sound would bring you to your senses.

“I just went downstairs to pick up a package. Apparently the delivery person just left it at reception.” You walked over to the couch with Lando’s eyes tracking your every movement.

“What’s in it? Is it more fabrics for a project?” You froze as soon as you sat down, knowing that acknowledging your work would ultimately result in a conversation about the email. Slowly looking towards your boyfriend, you realized he didn’t seem sad, or angry, he was rather calm. Perhaps he didn’t read the contents of your screen or at least all of it.

With eased nerves, you replied, “Yeah, just working on some pieces to add to my portfolio. Trying out some new techniques and mediums.” Lando was a bit confused as to why you still needed to add to your portfolio when you’ve already submitted one, and it was accepted.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you need to add to your portfolio when this company already emailed you that you got the job?” So he did read the email. You felt your stomach drop and to Lando, it almost looked as if you stopped breathing and time had stopped.

“Oh, it’s just to track all my pieces and progress. Like updating a résumé.” You opened the large box that went rather unnoticed for a while and began unpacking. Lando still stood in the same spot and you could almost sense the tension from where you sat in the living room. As you slightly shifted your gaze upwards from your box, you could see the unease on Lando’s face. He still had a few questions about the email and he couldn’t quite wrap his head around the situation.

“What is it? What’s bothering you?” you asked him. It was better to address things than leave them to linger, and noticing how this made your boyfriend on edge, you decided to rip the band-aid, with his consent of course.

“When were you gonna tell me?” There was a hint of sadness behind his British accent, You sighed as it was the first direct acknowledgment of what you were both trying to avoid.

“Well I just found out today-”

“Yeah but you applied a while ago,” Lando cut you off. It was true. It has been some time since you submitted your portfolio and did your interview. You almost forgot about the opportunity until they followed up a week ago, asking for an updated portfolio.

“I was gonna tell you soon I swear. It’s just been a while since I applied. I honestly kinda forgot about it. But I was just waiting to finish my internship in France, then I was gonna let you know.”

“Finish your internship? So this isn’t with the same company?” Well now you know he didn’t read the entire email. Hell, he didn’t even read past the third sentence.

“No, it’s not.”

“Well…” Lando paused. The apartment fell silent and the air grew thick. Knowing Lando didn’t read the entire email made it harder for you to reveal the entire truth to him. “At least it’s a step up. Even if it’s not with the same company, a promotion is still a promotion. Besides, it’s not like anything’s gonna change. We can still work with the system we have going.” Lando walked across the room and sat next to you on the couch. You dropped your head as you prepared yourself for the major bomb you were about to drop on this poor man’s life.

“It’s in Japan,” you muttered under your breath, barely audible,

“What?” Lando turned his head to look at you, hoping that would help him hear what you said.

“The brand that I applied for is based in Japan. I have to move to Tokyo.”

Silence. Deafening. Different from the TV that was playing last night. Both were bad. Both annoyed you so much that you just wanted it to end.

“Well, you don’t have to go. You haven’t said yes yet. You can still say no and apply to other company’s close by.” The Five Stages of Grief never made sense to you until you saw DENIAL written all over his face and laced in all his words.

“I’m not gonna say no Lando.”

“Why not? That means you’ll be even farther away. You don’t even speak Japanese. You know they eat a lot of fish over there-” “You’re the one that doesn’t like fish, not me.” “Would you even have time to come to my races? I won’t see you when I come back.” Lando was too caught up in his denial-stricken rambling that he didn’t notice your interjection. This was a great opportunity for you and yet it seemed he was only concerned about the cons, and how it affected him.

“Japan is halfway across the world.” “Lando.” “We don’t even know anybody over there.” “Lando.” “Why did you even apply in the first place?” “LANDO.” You had to shout to get his attention. No matter how many times you repeated his name it didn’t seem to work. But with the sudden rise in volume, he finally snapped out of his monologue and looked you in the eyes.

“This is a great opportunity for me. I understand it’s hard for you to accept right now, but I’m going to say yes and I’m moving to Japan.” You grabbed both of his hands gently in your own and looked at him tenderly to soften his feelings and knock him out of the anger he must be feeling. Lando looked you in your eyes and noticed the change in your expression. All he could think of at that moment were all the memories you guys had with each other. When you first met, hanging out in your studio, touring the McLaren Technology Center, pranking Carlos, Daniel, Oscar, and occasionally Zak. He loved always having you close by, even if close meant across the border in France. At least it wasn’t on a whole other continent.

“So, what? Does this mean the end of us?” You were a bit stunned by that comment and Lando watched as you slightly recoiled back in shock.

“I mean it doesn’t have to be! We’ve made long distance and long periods of not being with each other work before. It’s just,” Lando’s head sank as he let out a long exhale, “Japan is so far away, and you’ll be so busy. We’re both going far in our careers but it seems like we won’t have much time for each other.” You hooked a finger under Lando’s chin, slightly nudging it upwards so he’d look you in the eyes again.

“I understand Lando, and I worry about the same things too. Maybe, it’s for the best if we took a break. They want me out there in a month so I’ll come with you to COTA. I’m sorry things played out the way they did. I should’ve told you sooner.” You brought your face closer to Lando’s so that your foreheads touched. You closed your eyes, taking in the scent of his cologne and the lingering smell of sweat and alcohol from the night before. Lando did the same, breathing in the perfume and shampoo he grew to love over the past few years.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah?” This time, it was Lando who was preparing himself for what he was about to say. He knew it was going to sound harsh, but it was a fact that he needed to get off his chest.

“We don’t need a break, we need to break up.” You snapped your eyes open and your head up. Lando mirrored your moves more slowly already knowing what look painted your features. As he opened his eyes, he saw the confusion and sadness that brushed over your face. You began to shake your head, now facing the denial yourself, quietly chanting “no, no, no,” as your eyes began to water and tears pricked the corner of your eyes.

“I know, I don’t want to either. But if our careers keep heading in the direction they’re going, we won’t ever have time to see each other, or talk, or even settle down to start a family. You’ll be drowned in work, designing awesome fashion collections in Japan. And I’ll have Verstappen, Hamilton, and Leclerc riding up my ass.” You both laughed at the last statement. You were grateful that Lando had a talent for diffusing the tension in a heavy atmosphere.

“If the universe intends it, it will happen. We will see each other again. I promise.” Lando pulled you in for a sweet long kiss. One that reminded him of all the times before. As you both pulled away, you looked into each other's eyes and smiled.

“For now, let’s enjoy the rest of our time together.” Perhaps there was a way for you guys to stay together and make it work out, perhaps this was the best decision. But you guys did enjoy the rest of your time together. And Lando did promise that you would see each other again.

Written By: CorzyDoie <3

#formula 1 #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 x reader #lando norris fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando imagine #formula one fancfiction

62 notes · View notes

inchidentally · 2 months ago

Note

hiii inch!

as the resident landoscar scholar/essayist in the community, i'm curious about your take on their debriefs! ps. i love them both equally so i'm not trying to favor one over the other, just genuinely curious about your thoughts on it :)

it definitely could just be them having different styles of communicating and/or explaining things but i've noticed that whenever lando wins, he always shares his gratitude/appreciation for the team and oscar (even when oscar didn't directly 'help' him) and oscar will give lando credit for winning but then just talk about how bad he did in the race

yet whenever oscar wins, not only does lando hype him up, but he doesn't talk about himself in the debrief & oscar (at least not to my knowledge) has yet to thank/acknowledge lando for contributing to his win (& strangely enough has always thanked sponsors instead??)

so yeah, i hope this isn't too ramble-y & i hope you have a great day! <33

your timing is insane anon bc while scholar and essayist are wayyyy too nice ways to describe me being overly consumed w a hyperfixation, I was actually noticing things similar to your ask in comments sections and had written something that I wasn't sure about posting ! but I think it's worth it simply bc there is such a huge misfire with interpreting Oscar going on - totally not saying you are, anon and you were very clear in what you've said and I rly appreciate you wanting to know my take <3

- first thing to dispel is “Lando thanked Oscar for his first win/for helping make his first win happen” - he didn't! he thanked him for showing what the car was capable of with overtakes. I know I know! reality isn’t as bromancey but the sweetness of it was Lando giving Oscar’s drive a little shout out, but it was not him thanking Oscar for helping with his win. that's why they all chuckled when he stated the reason. and the sweetness remains <3<3 gotta clear that up bc there is no lingering double standard going on there. it’s the same as Oscar praising Lando’s drives. (also, apropos of this ask and ppl seeing Oscar as deficient - contrast that with how Oscar did very deliberately thank Lando for welcoming him to the team!)

- the other thing to dispel is the recency bias of thinking Lando praises and mentions Oscar this much on a regular basis/Oscar doesn’t mention Lando at all (anon, I know you’re not saying that btw). now! reality is that Lando's POV =/= his stans' POV. so from his perspective, as of recently he feels a need to assert himself to the media as a team player and to acknowledge Oscar more and make it known that he acknowledges Oscar helping him in similar ways. I’m not even going to dip a little toe into the reasons why, all that matters is that this is what Lando sees as something he needs to do and say right now especially. plenty of team orders instances and races have gone by where Lando doesn’t mention or acknowledge Oscar or Oscar’s help and plenty of times where Oscar has been the one to bring up and praise Lando where Lando hasn’t etc etc.

to the point where !! last season we had people concerned that Oscar was so Lando-centric and mentioned him so much and was such a great team player with team orders and being happy and supportive for Lando’s successes even when his own race was misery or the result was gutting or he just lost out on a podium - but that Lando wasn’t bringing Oscar up at all or acknowledging Oscar’s races. the turntables etc! literally had the flip situation! (even extending to this season in Melbourne where Lando got so wrapped up in his Quadrant filming and podium he kind of forgot it was Oscar’s literal hometown race salfsafjlah in the post race press conf a journalist brought it up and he was like ‘oh’ - like, Oscar was not upset about that he just wanted a podium!)

and guess what - in both cases it was never a problem for either Lando or Oscar!

seriously, I cannot emphasize enough how much what teammates like Lando and Oscar say to the media and fans is for the media and fans and NOT how they actually communicate to each other as people. Charles and Carlos openly admit they’ll bite chunks out of each other at times in media but then they see each other in person, immediately hug and are totally fine. PR is PR. it’s either not reality or at best it’s a publicly-framed version of it. which leads to…

- Lando and Oscar don’t do the PR or the bromance thing. instead they giggle and side-eye their way through having to do scripted stuff and media interviews, and thankfully their occasional shared-brain thing and contrasting personalities are fun enough for most fans to enjoy. and literally the fact that they beam into each other’s faces Like That and it’s incredibly endearing. which is exactly how they handle these post race videos - trust me, they are not sitting there in media talking the same way they do in their little closed off world of just their drivers rooms and no one else. or even when cameras are off and they’re just around the team or other drivers. equally, they aren’t viewing how they talk about each other to media and fans as relevant. it’s solely how they talk to each other.

- Oscar is an acts of service guy; Lando is a words of affirmation guy. as Lando fandom has so much discussion around mental health*, it is very worth reminding that mental health inclusivity means learning the different ways that different personalities express affection and friendship! there is not just one way! clearly, Lando is very happy with having a teammate who may not talk much but his fondness of Lando makes up multiple compilation videos and posts about being absolutely whipped when it comes to … almost anything Lando wants or prefers (“nope, I’m gonna keep you happy”). and paying such close attention to Lando talking that he helps fill in the blanks when Lando’s brain struggles in public. and watching closely when Lando looked like he might trip over his own race suit.

- it’s worth mentioning here that Oscar inspires genuine affection in people who gain absolutely nothing from openly liking him. he maintains friendships from his early karting days, still has a group chat from the boys in his boarding house at school, and has been with Lily for 4 or 5 years now - but all of those people either have private social media or have remained so thoroughly normal that they’re undetectable. Tom Stallard, his race engineer, and Andrea Stella have taken to Oscar like a nephew/son despite Oscar not being a demonstratively emotional person (and how for himself he views extreme emotions on par with negative emotions which is innnnteresting!). bear in mind that Andrea and Tom remain very fond of Carlos and count him as a friend still, so their judgment is very much to be trusted <3 if you look up Oscar’s mum Nicole’s episode on The Red Flags Pod she confirms that he’s truly Just Like That and his family adore him. there’s also this tiny but very telling moment of Oscar sending a journalist gifts for their new baby and the fact that The Fast and the Curious Pod (wholesome nerds HQ) view Oscar as their child. and that Abbi Pulling thinks he’s “too nice to be a racing driver”. it’s healthy to learn how to receive love and affection from people based on how they are naturally and comfortably rather than expecting them to behave in ways that are more socially the norm/seen as "acceptable"!

*and side note it’s extremely gross and anti-mental health the way certain F1 fans have genuinely decided to interpret Oscar’s personality type as evil or cold or unfeeling. that is so profoundly backward and bigoted boomery thinking. yes it’s fine to joke a bit that Oscar’s a baby-face killer or robotic IF you make it clear it’s not true. but when I get sent links to adult women on tiktok claiming that Oscar’s mother and sister are part of some grand PR scheme orchestrated by McLaren to manipulate and maximize Oscar’s image then we’ve officially left the whole ‘I support mental health’ thing and entered ‘I persecute and suspect people who don’t fit a socially acceptable norm’. because of all the drivers who quite literally do orchestrate and manipulate PR for growing their careers or their impact (which is fine btw!!) sorry, Nicole’s sporadic social media presence is not remotely skillful PR and Oscar’s little sister is a college girl using tiktok to talk about her own interests. and if Oscar was trying to PR his way into whatever gain people imagine an introvert who dislikes being on camera could possibly gain then he’s doing an abominable job! his sponsors are still the ones he’s had since before F1 (including his dad’s company), his social media is as standard and bland with highly irregular sprinklings of personality, and he isn’t branching out into anything outside his racing career. like, sorry to destroy anyone’s insane projections of some grand plan onto a guy who truly is just happy to have his job and hang out with his friends and his girlfriend lasfgljsagfjlagfslagfsaj

so anyway, when Lando and McLaren team and staff members love on Oscar, it’s because it’s real and they clearly feel reciprocation from Oscar despite it not being traditionally emotional or verbal. plenty of teams and teammates can be neutral to fully disinterested in a driver and it's fine for it to be like that. if nobody actually liked Oscar or found him cold or unfeeling, they would make little to no effort to seem like they love him or like him. F1 isn't team sports, the whole public face of it aspect just doesn't exist outside of backmarker teams who need social media engagement to keep sponsors happy.

- Oscar is famously Not ! a public speaking/on camera/PR/media person and you can see in their early 2023 stuff how much Lando helps him (this video esp is painfully cute bc Lando encourages and praises him and Oscar’s so pleased he does a song and dance). ask any longtime Oscar fan and they’ll tell you he’s leaned on the energy of extroverts and PR skilled people his whole racing career. and no, he really does not try to be a meme that's just what happens to awkward introverted ppl who have to be on camera a lot ;__;

- Lando used to be just as uncomfortable as Oscar with this stuff! and he’s said many times he has learned and adapted to be better at public speaking and media work, just as Oscar is learning! Carlos basically socialized and raised Lando from shy, twitchy mumbly little introvert to the person he became around 2021/2022. and we all observed how Lando basically copied Carlos and Daniel’s sense of humor to develop the bromance content we all know and love. and he does the same with Max F on streams as well. I wish I could find it but he said in one of the early winter break 2023 streams how he ‘usually lets other people do most of the talking and he interjects occasionally’.

-re the “thanking the sponsors” thing: to help Oscar get by on camera, especially with spontaneous speaking, Oscar uses little ‘scripts’ he’s worked out and approved of ahead of time so that he doesn’t have to deal with the white noise that hits him when having to speak spontaneously (the famous little ahhhh’s and uhhhhm’s and long delays he has before answering). which is why things like thanking the sponsors has been in rotation lately since it’s something Andrea said (remember him being teased for saying 'we're in Austria' x 50? and repeating the bit about his wisdom teeth? and the refrain of ‘my girlfriend says…’) because he’s just trying to get out something he knows is acceptable and palatable. compare the stiffness of his post race videos with when he’s one on one with an interviewer (the Laura Winter one is great) or filming non-scripted stuff w Lando and you can see the difference between him feeling under pressure vs how he expresses himself when he’s relaxed.

- it’s genuinely weird and adorable how Oscar doesn’t use gushy language or do PDA with Lily or Lando, but in exactly the same way with both he loves bringing up their little quirks or what they disagree with him about or things they like that he doesn’t etc ??? idk if they’re secretly very similar or what but for some reason Oscar shows his affection for them only occasionally in plain terms, but mostly by bringing them up seemingly for no reason and in extremely mundane ways ?? idk it’s just a very very cute observation I wanted to point out and he doesn’t do that with any other people aslfgsljagfafgl

so yes, those are the Things To Know about Oscar and his relationship with other people and with Lando to explain why he isn’t like Lando, Carlos, or Daniel. and that whether or not Lando or Oscar bring each other up or acknowledge each other in media duties is not something to get stuck on because that’s not something they personally pay attention to in their relationship. we got used to a specific almost identical type of teammate relationship with Lando’s previous two - and even other teammates who are less close all follow a similar pattern of humor and media friendly behavior. but Oscar is weird, Lando is weird and just adapts better, and they’re both very weird together. they can mindread when not under pressure and they obsess over details about each other’s food and choices etc and go off on bizarre tangents about naps and music and they don’t like posting content about their downtime together/purely social hanging out. oh and they openly complain that they want to spend more non-racing time together as if they couldn’t just… do it more ?? yea they’re just like that.

somehow I have more to say but it’s mostly observations so under a cut it goes (but the stuff above is basically the main points I wanted to make!)

a lot of misconceptions have happened both because Lando's grown and changed so much since the start of 2023 and because Oscar's real personality is so slow to be revealed... and tbh it's def yet to be understood fully by a lot of people…

Lando very openly kicked against the idea of being the older/more experienced big brother role widely expected of him when Oscar was announced for Mclaren (to this day he jokingly but semi seriously says he envies Oscar’s “youth”). Lando had spent the previous four years as little brother and gotten very comfortable in that role. around Austin 2023, he realized Oscar was happy to look after himself and didn't need serious help with anything except media/PR/public speaking. this is where Lando found his big brother role and ran with it happily. it’s where the Finish the Lyrics video happened and we saw a major shift in the landoscar dynamic.

take Lando’s initial insecurity trying to figure out the dynamic with a quiet, low energy rookie and contrast that with how someone five years behind in experience to their teammate is NOT as secure of his position** and has much more to prove. yes Oscar has a contract but he knows better than anyone !! that those are not set in stone or immutable. he frequently has said - and his mom has said - Lando's place in F1 is already established as a front-runner. therefore Oscar's job is to push himself and prove himself to that level.

all of which is why you can’t look at Lando and Oscar in media - or even on track - and mistake their closeness in age for being able to judge them similarly.

**the refrain of 'why can't he be a support driver until Lando gets a WDC' is easy to answer: for one thing absolutely NO driver wants that and for another, he very understandably does not assume he has the space or stability to just not try his hardest unless specifically asked by the team.

without opening a can of worms on my personal opinions, I’ve consulted my family/friends of family who have been F1 obsessed since I was born - and the reality of guys who are seen or who actually are ‘support driver’ (not rly an official term but we all know what it is) is NOT the same as a number 2 driver, and neither of those are even options for Oscar.

a number 2 is a driver seen as having become relatively disposable compared to the number 1 and who just wants to keep a seat in F1 despite the insult. they will at least tacitly accept that their role is to follow team orders and suck it up while number 1 chases the glory (whether that’s points or podiums). a number 2 has a limited life span either because his skill drops off and he becomes a liability or because he can’t stand it after a while.

a support driver is someone who either brings money/sponsorships/a unique regional fanbase and can occasionally or at least theoretically compete with their teammate. and who for whatever reason is judged as the guy who has to suck it up when the other guy has a better shot at the glory. but if the other guy falls behind or suffers a DNF, the support driver is automatically the number one. and if the support driver has a shitty season or the gap in ability widens between him and his teammate, he retains his seat anyway because of the money/sponsorships/unique regional fanbase he brings. so basically, he’s pretty damn safe.

Oscar does not bring money, sponsorships or a unique regional fanbase. Australia doesn’t need convincing to be invested in F1, Oscar’s sponsorships are peanuts compared to what sponsor-grabber Zak Brown already has and Oscar’s funding ran out before F1 and his career only continued because of Mark Webber taking an interest in him (for more on that, see K’s excellent primer - you can scroll down to the screencap of a sheet with a lot of numbers on it for that particular part). and despite insane conspiracy theories about him, Oscar’s PR and image not only don’t have anywhere near the numbers of many other drivers, he also had to recover from the immensely bad PR following Alpinegate. he had most fans of McLaren, Alpine, Danny Ric and Lando (as the prospective teammate) all hating his guts before he’d even stepped into his first papaya race suit. all he’s had getting him past all of that was his promise from F2 and F3 and then his improvement as a driver.

so that’s being support driver out of the question.

and also referencing Mark Webber, without leaning too cornily into the obvious like… no, Oscar’s not going to be the one F1 driver to be okay with the idea of being a number 2. his own mother said how he viewed potentially having Lando as a teammate as advantageous for a rookie because he wouldn’t be expected to match up immediately. the flipside of that is what he’s had to achieve and become immediately after his rookie year in order to be seen as around Lando’s level. his job is to prove to McLaren and to his race team that he's going to try and bring them the best result on every outing. if mathematically that means team orders in favor of Lando then fine, which he's more than proven he'll do. but without said orders, Oscar's job remains to try and get at the very front - just like it is Lando's. there isn't an option or a reason for Oscar to just... intentionally fail or ease off that responsibility (again, unless ordered to).

so that's a no go for being a number 2 driver.

and some more about Oscar and mental health for those who think it only applies to drivers who talk about it frequently: Oscar has talked about how, when his dad came with him to the UK, initially Oscar felt he had "too much time to think". and about his difficulties in moving all alone to boarding school (“sacrificing” being with his family) on the other side of the world at fourteen. I cannot for the life of me find the post again but he even hired a sports psychologist to help him. he’s always been called mature and competent for his age and he and Lily seemed to just go right into domestic almost-married codependency after about two years together. there’s a whole school of thought about children who leave home early and parentification and boarding school syndrome etc but that’s getting way too speculative for even me to go into. but basically, Oscar leapt into a lot of unknowns without a lot of the usual safety nets drivers have/have had. he's had to be self-reliant in a way that's not common among the extreme privilege of the average F1 driver and for those who have it similar to him, they have a similar outlook and approach***. so to mistake his confidence and determination for cockiness or coldness is as wildly off as people misinterpreting Lando’s genuine honesty for him being a cocky asshole. overall, Oscar’s self-assurance and maturity are why he’s continued and succeeded in such a volatile sport and pipedream career because compared to a lot of other drivers on the grid, he has not had a smooth or assured journey.

***obv in reality, apart from Ocon and Hamilton, we're always talking about very relative disadvantages. but Oscar is absolutely in the class of drivers who have to live far away from a family support system and who financially were not guaranteed career progression.

by contrast, Lando was a totally unique phenom and had big, welcoming hands grab him as a teenager and bring him into the McLaren and F1 fold. pundits and cameras and fans all saw him bringing drinks to Alonso and toddling around being helpful in the garage before his time with the team had even come. by the time he drove his first F1 race he was already everyone's beloved baby and Carlos basically got a crash course in parenting as he took full responsibility for socializing Lando and even having to cope with his teenage mood swings. Lando also had a comparatively gentle learning curve by dint of being so immensely talented and exceeding expectation for his age - but also always having older, more experienced teammates as his nearest competition. I will say he made sure to state he didn't want people to give him bias simply because his teammates had such an advantage of experience - and that he personally judged himself equally against them (to his detriment of confidence sometimes!). but it's only logical that people would factor in the age gaps anyway. by the time he'd entered his third year in F1 he was firmly established, had one of the largest fanbases and McLaren couldn't have made it clearer how badly they wanted to keep him from the clutches of other teams.

again - very much NOT saying that Lando doesn't feel the need or pressure to keep proving himself because he absolutely does, but it's still a VERY unique and unusual first few years in F1 !!

Oscar had a very different experience of not knowing if he could progress after winning F2, having to hang around in reserve and then show up at McLaren without much fanfare (except the unanimous walls of hate from Danny Ric fans, Alpine fans and McLaren fans) and work from the backmarkers up with the team to prove himself - all while those months before the upgrades were spent with fans united in wanting him to fail and celebrating his difficulties.

so yea, all even more worth bearing in mind when it comes to how Lando takes the approach of speaking about Oscar and the team from a proprietary sense of pride - versus Oscar still focusing on his own races because it’s normal for young drivers early in their careers to be more focused on proving themselves and asserting themselves in order to become established in the way Lando is now. they seem so similar in so many ways but when it comes to their positions in the team and in the sport, it’s well worth remembering that big gap exists and why it makes them different sometimes - but that crucially, they end those post race videos united either in misery or in happiness and pride <3

I AM SO SORRY TO EVERYONE WHO READ THIS FAR GOD I WON’T SHUT UPPPP

#inchreplies #long post #landoscar meta #inchidentallyanessay #jesus christ this is enormous #anon I hope this remotely answers things in a clear way ????#landoscar

119 notes · View notes

isagrimorie · 1 year ago

Text

Sometimes there really are interesting things on Reddit, found this one particular passage on r/DaystromInstitute talking about Starfleet and the Cardassian war, in particular, Miles O'Brien and Kathryn Janeway's experiences in a ground war:

Ground combat was much different. O'Brian's reactions to the Cardassians in 'The Wounded' are clear that ground combat wasn't as clean for the Federation as it was in space. Same with Captain Maxwell. Even Captain Janeway was in ground combat in the Federation/Cardassian war (I think it was the episode 'Prey' where Janeway told Seven of a time during the war when she was only Lt. Janeway). O'Brian carrying anger against the Cardassians for making him into a killer. Maxwell so used to destroying Cardassian ships that a year after the treaty is signed he's still in the habit of blowing up Cardassian ships. Janeway, it's entirely possible that until the war ended she spent her entire Starfleet career in combat, earning battlefield promotions, flying up the chain of command to Commander and with the impossible situation that Voyager was in after her promotion to Captain and first command being Voyager, she found herself trying to balance Starfleet ideologies with her own history of being willing to use violence, or in her case, too willing in a few episodes.

This is an interesting thought, I remember being surprised knowing Janeway actually was in actual ground combat. As we learned from DS9, and Strange New Worlds, ground combat is a lot different from ship-to-ship battle.

Ships can also be dangerous but Starfleet shines with ship battles. Ground combats are harder, and bloodier, and leave long-lasting marks on the soldiers who find themselves in them.

I wonder if Janeway distinguishing herself in the Cardassian war is the reason why Voyager got the assignment to go after the Maquis. But also, Janeway might have wanted to distance herself from the war more and focus on science.

But the Delta Quadrant kept pushing her into that place again.

Like, now I wish Janeway interacted with O'Brien at least, two Cardassian war vets.

ETA:

Another good r/DaystromInstitute post on Janeway:

Janeway is intentionally written as a character who intellectually believes in the ideals of the Federation, but whose actions are not always in line with her stated beliefs. I think this is very human and understandable. Very few real humans are as moral as Picard. This is why Quark's quote:

"Let me tell you something about Hew-mons, Nephew. They're a wonderful, friendly people, as long as their bellies are full and their holosuites are working. But take away their creature comforts, deprive them of food, sleep, sonic showers, put their lives in jeopardy over an extended period of time and those same friendly, intelligent, wonderful people... will become as nasty and as violent as the most bloodthirsty Klingon. You don't believe me? Look at those faces. Look in their eyes."

rings so true. Janeway is trying hard to not be the type of human Quark describes, but she is failing. She still tries, though, which I think is important.

All this just makes me love Janeway more, also Starfleet is terrible with mental health.

#thinky thoughts #federation cardassian war #kathryn janeway #miles o'brien #star trek #star trek voyager

333 notes · View notes

xchronicles · 3 months ago

Text

The more I think about Chakotay being stranded on Ysida for full 10 years, the less sense it makes in the context of the story.

To add a disclaimer, two of my favorite Trek episodes are Last Flight of the Protostar, parts 1 and 2. However, I truly believe that narratively, it would have worked just as well if Chakotay had been stranded for 'only' a year. In fact, it makes more sense from a storytelling perspective than having him be there for the full 10 years for no good reason.

Why you ask?

He is a character who has suffered greatly throughout his life and was already stranded in the Delta Quadrant for 7 years. Chakotay's portrayal as a person of color unfortunately falls into a common media trope where marginalized characters are often made to endure significant hardship or trauma to justify their character arc and presence in the story. Prodigy should have done better than subjecting him to a cruel 10 years of isolation for no good reason other than to make him, and I quote, 'grizzled'.

The Protostar was rendered completely useless on Ysida, making his role as its 'guardian' meaningless. If someone had found him, he was alone and essentially powerless, so there was little he could have done to prevent anyone from taking the ship.

I believe Chakotay would have been in a much worse state after 10 years of isolation (possibly even dead) compared to how the kids found him. Did the creators consider the severe effects of such prolonged isolation on a person, regardless of their strength? Chakotay had already shown vulnerability and a tendency to slip. His return to the prime universe doesn’t accurately reflect the trauma of a decade alone. His behavior and condition would be far more believable if he had been isolated for just a year.

If the math is correct, Chakotay is 66 years old. Despite the extended human lifespan in the Trek universe, aging still happens naturally. Janeway planned to retire at a younger age than Chakotay's current one, especially considering his 10 years of isolation. Given this context, it seems implausible that Chakotay would be assigned command of Voyager-A so soon after a decade of trauma, even if some time has passed. Someone stranded for so long might indeed be eager to avoid staying in one place and go back to work to honor his lost crew. However, his deep survivor’s guilt and unresolved trauma from those 10 years should have made such a quick return to command problematic. The reality is that Chakotay, at 66 and with a decade of emotional scars, wouldn’t realistically be ready to take on the captaincy without addressing his past experiences in a more meaningful way. Chakotay bounced back to his old self the moment the 'Cracked Mirror' episode happened, and his hardships and trauma are never addressed or mentioned again. It was a significant and intense arc for Chakotay, involving deep trauma that could not realistically be resolved within just two episodes. Yet, the story completely disregarded this development once it was no longer needed.

All of this could have been avoided if he had been stranded on Ysida for just a year.

If they needed Adreek to be a skeleton to set up that scene, it could have been attributed to anything on the planet affecting him after he died. The planet was hostile enough that no one would question how this happened. If we assume Adreek decided to look for a solution after a couple of months and then went missing, that would give Chakotay enough time to end up in the state he was found in by the kids—scruffy hair, a torn shirt, and all. Spending an additional 6 months alone, reflecting on what happened to his friend and dealing with such a sensitive topic, is a significant amount of time.

#star trek prodigy #chakotay #don't get me started on us experiencing a full blown isolation for couple of years due to covid #and a lot of people developing very real mental issues because of the isolation #at least we had internet to chat to our friends online and have virtual meetups #not to mention everyone was going through the same thing so we could relate to one another and talk through our experiences #yes Chakotay had HJ but end of day she was still a hologram #not a warm living human beign

50 notes · View notes

she-wolf09231982 · 6 months ago

Text

Eugene Doc Roe

“Still Falling For You.”

Summary: You did your best to get through the war without getting too attached to anyone. The amount of loss you’ve seen as a combat medic taught you that tomorrow is no guarantee, and that it would be foolish to connect to anyone. That all flew out the window after you met Eugene Roe.

A/N: One shot, EugeneDocRoex!FemMedic, WW2, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO Band of Brothers References, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries/Wounds, Weaponry, Smoking, Drinking, FOREVER FLUFF/FLUFF AND STUFF

(d)=Dutch

(f)=French

~~~~~~~

October 1944, Holland

You had been assigned to Dog Company while he ran with Easy. You’ve only seen him in passing in Toccoa during training, but it seemed you ran into him quite often in Holland.

This man always had an intense expression. His defined jawline always clenched, and eyebrows usually drawn inward giving his face that constant look of concern.

You had always seen him from distance. The closest you two ever got was when you both reached for the same pack of dressing at med supply at the aid station in Aldbourne. You reached without looking and his hand accidentally grabbed yours. Startled, you pulled your hand back and you heard his honeyed Cajun accent,

“Oh, sorry, go ahead.” He had said with a weak smile, gesturing to the pack on the shelf.

You were almost a puddle at his feet.

Now as cold October nights came in Holland 2 years later, you’re bumping into eachother more than you can count. Not that you were complaining. He was a handsome man, and it warmed you from the inside to see him.

You never really had a reason to talk to him. You tried to not be a distraction or get too involved with people during the war. You made that mistake when one of the soldiers from Dog Company led you to believe he was interested in a longterm romance with you but you caught him with a local blonde bombshell in England before D-Day.

You felt it best to keep to yourself and do your best keeping yourself busy helping the boys stay alive in the field. So, making small talk with this other medic outside duty related reasons was out of the question. But, goodness, he was quite the tall drink of water.

~~~~~~~

One particularly chilly October evening, you both arrived to the aid station with wounded men from the field.

“Nurse! We got a gunshot wound to the right lower quadrant here. One syrette.” You explain as you followed the litter that carried your wounded man in.

“Thank you, Corporal Y/L/N. We got him from here.”

“I got a chest wound here, nurse. Two, possibly three syrettes were used on this man.” The other medic called out.

“Two, possibly three?” The nurse repeated.

“Yes ma’am. The men who applied them couldn’t remember how many they used, unfortunately.” He clarified.

“I see,” the nurse returned, “thanks, Gene.”

A name….Now you have a name to go with the man. You wished you hadn’t heard it, now it made him more real to you. Without a name, he was just considered a living dream with just a job title. Just a face amongst a crowd. Now, you know his name, pushing him into your reality on a whole different level.

You vigorously shake your head to snap out of your intrusive thoughts.

“Get it together, Y/F/N.” You whisper to yourself.

“That’s a pretty name.” You hear a baritone voice from behind you.

Your heart skips as your breathe catches in your chest. You turn slowly and come face to face with Gene.

You swallow hard, “Uh, thank you.” You squeak.

“I’m Eugene. Eugene Roe.” He introduced extending his right hand.

You gingerly take his hand and shake, “Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Good to finally meet ya.”

“Ha, yeah.” You utter smiling coyly looking down at your boots.

You were known to be impenetrable under pressure. You could easily find a vein and apply an IV of plasma to a man’s arm in the midst of complete chaos during combat…but this guy had you falling apart inside just by speaking to you.

“You doin’ ok over at Dog Company?” He asked.

“It’s been busy. Mostly men with pneumonia. The guy I came with was on patrol and was shot after they stumbled upon a German outpost.” You explained, “What about you?”

“Steady. Moose over there was shot by one of our own guys. Kid got spooked when our CO and him were doing post checks and he shot him thinking it was a German.”

“That’s awful.”

“Well, the worst part was the officers with him didn’t keep track of how much morphine they gave him. Could’ve killed him.” Gene added.

“The nurses are great here, I’m sure they’ll be able to help him.”

He smirked briefly, “Yeah, well good thing he’s a big man, maybe he’ll have a chance.”

You nod in agreement.

“Well, I should get back. See ya around.” Gene said with a smile before he rushed out the door.

~~~~~~~

November 1944

Throughout the everyday chaos of tending to wounded soldiers, you found peace on your downtime (when you did get days off) reading in your foxhole or going into town to grab a hot shower and have a few drinks at the local pub in town. Two medics were assigned to each company, so on slower days when the Germans weren’t raining hell on Americans, they would rotate out to take a break.

It was your turn to take a break, so you hitched a ride into town and cleaned yourself up donning in your dress uniform. You usually sit tucked away at the end of the bar so you wouldn’t be bothered. As more soldiers and locals started to filter in, you notice Gene breeze through the door with a handful of Easy.

You light a cigarette to calm your nerves.

“Nog eentje, mevrouw? (d)(Another one, Miss)?” The bartender asked.

“Ja, bedankt (d)(Yes, thank you).” You reply drinking down the last of what was left in your bottle.

You glance over by the dart boards and see Gene and his group settled at a table and began ordering their beverages from the barmaid.

“Hey, Doc, ain’t that the Dog Company medic you told us about?” Guarnere asked nudging Gene with his elbow.

Gene looked over his shoulder at the bar.

“Sure is.” He acknowledged simply.

“Pretty girl.” Babe professed.

Gene hummed as he took a gulp of beer from the pint the waitress put in front of him.

“So, you gonna go talk to her?” Perconte prodded.

Gene looked at him inquisitively, “Why?”

“Come on, Doc! We know you got it for her. Whenever we come cross Dog Company you light up like a goddamn Christmas tree.” Guarnere exclaimed.

Gene scoffed, “You know that ain’t true, Bill.” He dismissed as he sipped from his glass.

“My ass, it ain’t!” Bill retorted.

“What if I told you she looked over here a couple of times since we got in here?” Babe revealed.

Gene shrugged while twirling his glass on the table.

As the room started to fill up, the music picked up and before you knew it, couples were tearing up the dance floor. Bill and Babe found ladies to dance with while Frank and Gene watched on from their table. You remained at the bar observing the crowd as they whimsically enjoyed their evening.

“She looks bored.” Frank observed.

“Perhaps.” Gene replied.

Frank rolled his eyes, “Just go to her!”

“I don’t wanna interfere with her personal time, Frank.”

“Well, looks like Guarnere is extending the invite.” Frank pointed out.

Gene quickly turned around to see Bill gesturing for you to join them. You were reluctant at first, not wanting to impose, but Gene can see he was insisting as he ushered you off the barstool and guided you towards their table.

As he approached Gene and Frank, he flashed Doc a mischievous grin.

“This here is Frank Perconte. Frank, Y/F/N.” Bill began.

“Good to meet ya!” Frank waved from his seat. You nod to him.

“And I know you know Doc, over here.” Bill added.

“Yes, I’ve had the pleasure of running into him a few times.” You proclaim.

Gene smiled at you as he stood to pull the chair out next to him for you to sit,

“Always my pleasure, Y/F/N.” He returned politely.

~~~~~~~

The night was filled with laughter at that table. You were starting to like Easy better than Dog Company. These guys had a sense of humor and from the stories they told that evening, the rest of Easy were not far off from them.

Eugene was the strong silent type. Only smiling or chuckling as the boys bantered and laughed and only said anything when they asked him to confirm their anecdotes about being on the front line. He would occasionally make eye contact with you leaving you shyly giggling as you try to maintain your composure.

But as the evening came to a close, you felt a sense of dread that you may not get the opportunity to see him again. At least not under these pleasant circumstances. The boys stood up and filed towards the door. Gene pulled your chair from under you as you stood.

“This turned out to be a wonderful evening, Gene. Your friends are a hoot.”

“They sure are.” He agreed with a laugh.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you out there.” You said as you walk together towards the exit.

“Absolutely.” He confirmed smiling.

~~~~~~~

The following week, the Germans were relentless with artillery attacks causing mass casualties to Easy Company. Your CO approached you with temporary orders to report to Winters over at Easy Company because their back up medic had a minor injury while administering care to another wounded soldier.

Your nerves were a wreck as you looked for Eugene’s foxhole. You peered into each hole to no avail until you finally found a familiar face.

“Hey, do either of you know where Doc Roe is?”

Guarnere’s face met yours, “Hey! Look who it is!”

“Hey, Bill! Good to see ya.”

“Yeah, doll, Doc’s over dat way.” He pointed over to the tree line.

“Thanks, Bill, I’ll see ya.”

You look into the hole and see Gene sitting against the dirt wall fiddling with a rosary in his hands.

“Hey, Eugene.” You greet as you crouch over the opening.

He looked up, a smile stretching across his face.

“Bonjour mon ami (f) (Hello, my friend).”

“You speak French.”

“Oui. I was raised in Louisiana and my grandmother mainly spoke French.” He explained.

You hop into the hole and sit next to him.

“You’ll have to tell me more about home sometime.”

“Gladly.”

Just then, you both hear Lipton’s voice in the distance.

“INCOMING!”

You hear a blast from German artillery nearby. You both stand and peak over the edge. You look around in all directions seeing soldiers running to foxholes manning their positions to prepare to fight back. More attacks from the Germans showered dirt and shrapnel everywhere until you heard that familiar call:

“MEDIC!”

You scurry out of the hole and sprint towards the shout for help.

“Y/F/N! WAIT!” You hear Gene call after you.

You dive behind snow mounds and piles of fallen trees for cover everytime a blast strikes close enough to where you are. You squat behind a pine, straining to hear the call for medic again.

“MEDIC!”

You run in the direction of the voice you can hear closest to you. Weaving and dodging blasts and pings of bullets flying past your head.

You finally find a soldier laid out on the ground bleeding from his left arm.

“I gotchya.” You say as you land on your knees next to the man.

“You ain’t Doc.” He said through heaves of breath.

“Glad you can tell the difference, corporal.” You say as you tie a tourniquet on his bicep.

You pull a large gauze out, stuffing it down into the wound opening.

“Ack! Why’s it tingling!?”

“There’s sulfur on it to clot the bleeding.” You explain as you push a dressing into his arm to put pressure on the gash.

When the bleeding stops, you securely wrap his arm to keep the pressure on the wound.

“Can you make it to HQ?” You yell out to him while more explosions erupted around you.

He nodded.

“Ok go!”

As he hurried off, you see Gene waving you over to him to take cover with him behind a pile of fallen trees. You take off towards him until a German shell detonated in your path sending you backward onto your back.

“Y/F/N!” Gene’s muffled voice was the last thing you heard before tinnitus set in.

Delirium had you standing looking for safety, not realizing you were in fact putting yourself in more danger. Through the ringing in your ears, you faintly hear Gene calling your name to get down but all you knew was you were out in the open and needed to find cover.

You continued to walk aimlessly, believing you were closer to refuge until you feel yourself once again propelled backwards onto the ground, this time by Gene tackling you as another explosion emitted less than a few feet away from where you were.

Gene sprang to his feet, taking you by the arm and hoisting you over his shoulder carrying you off as fast as he could to the nearest trench. He slid on his rear down into the next hole he found, bringing you in front of him where he could cradle you in his arms. He shielded your face by tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“I gotchya, mon amour (f) (my love).” He reassured as he rocked you back and forth.

Your eyelids started to feel heavy as tunnel vision began closing in. Gene looked down at you when he felt your body going limp.

“Hey, Y/F/N, stay with me! Stay awake!” He pleaded as he gently shook you.

“I’m so tired-“

“I know, mon amour (f) (my love), but I need you to stay awake.” He implored.

He noticed the right sleeve of your uniform was saturated in red.

“-merde (f)(shit).”He whispered to himself as he unbuttoned your collar to locate the source of the bleeding.

As he pulled the neckline of the shirt off to the side, he discovered you had shards of metal from the German shell spiking out of your shoulder.

“I’m gonna get these out, Y/F/N.” He said as he gently placed you on your back.

He ripped your uniform sleeve to expose your whole right arm, then braced you down with his forearm across your sternum and started pulling them out one by one by hand. You hissed at each extraction, trying not to pass out from the pain. When he finished removing them all, he took a syrette from his pocket and injected it in your tricep.

“You’re gonna be ok, mon amour.” He said softly as he applied a large gauze and wrapped your shoulder.

“Make sure you remember how much morphine you used.” You weakly joked.

His worried features melted into an adoring grin, as he affectionately brushed away loose strands of your hair away from your face.

Last thing you remember was Eugene placing a soft kiss on your forehead before the world around you slipped into darkness.

~~~~~~~

You awoke in a panic two days later, only remembering you had been surrounded by chaos and danger, not realizing you were in the solace of the aid station. A nurse hurried over to calm you when you shot up from the cot alarmed.

“It’s alright, honey, you’re safe. Just breathe for me.” She instructed.

You can’t catch your breath at first, but take a deep breath to slow it down. You suddenly remember the wound on your shoulder and no sooner does the thought cross your mind a sharp pain begins to throb in your entire right arm.

“Son of a bitch!” You bellow as you touch the mummy wrapping across your shoulder.

“Oh my!” The nurse gasped at your language.

You groan, “I’m sorry. Kinda rubs off on ya when you’re surrounded by men all the time.”

“Hm, well let’s get you something for the pain, shall we?” She suggested as she walked off.

~~~~~~~

You hadn’t seen Eugene for days. You began to worry that something might have happened, but according to the nurses, the front lines were quite busy and all medics had their hands full.

“Well, then I need to get back out there.”

“Absolutely not! You’re not even close to a full recovery!” The nurse stated.

“I’m close enough. They need me.” You insisted as you started to put on your uniform.

Against the better judgement of the nurses, you finally left the aid station, hitching a ride to the line to finally see Gene. Before even reporting back to Dog Company, you wander around Easy Company’s camp searching for him.

Not before long, you see a familiar figure with his back facing you. Your heart beats against your ribcage something painful when you see his medic brassard on his left arm.

Your breathe catches in your throat, as a tear escapes the corner of your eye. You want to run to him, but your knees almost give out, so instead you call to him.

“Eugene!” You yell as loud as your lungs would allow.

Gene immediately turned after hearing your voice.

“Y/F/N!?”

You beam at him and quickly walk to him while he trotted towards you to meet you half way. As the gap close between you and Eugene, the concern on his face increased. You each stop less than a foot from eachother.

“Why aren’t you at the aid station??” Gene queried with his eyebrows furrowed from worry.

“I wanted to get back out here to help.” You clarified.

His lips pursed together in disapproval.

“You need to heal. That shell did a number on your shoulder. You lost a lot of blood, too. I know cuz I put the IV in myself to give you plasma.” He declared.

Your heart soars at his confession. You inch so close to him, you feel his breath upon your face.

“You saved my life, Eugene.”

He returned a bashful grin.

“It was nothin’.” He replied simply.

“It must’ve been something. I heard you call me your love a couple of times out there. ‘Mon amor,’ I believe you said?” You presented.

Slightly embarrassed, Gene averted his eyes to the ground.

“I did.” He admitted still avoiding eye contact.

His chest started to palpitate.

“Eugene-“ you began as you slipped your hands into his. He gradually met your gaze.

“Oui?”

You pull him towards you, “I fell for you the first day I saw you. And I’m still falling for you.”

Completely astonished, Gene enveloped you, pulling you against him as he planted kisses on the top of your head, your temple and all over your face. You giggle then look up at him through your lashes. He dreamily looks back at you then leaned in locking his lips onto yours.

He cupped your face, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as you return the intensity. You separate briefly, your mouths hovering over one another as you pant for air.

“Does that mean you feel the same?” You ask playfully.

He rests his forehead against yours, then released an elated exhale.

“With all my heart.” He purred.

~~~~~~~

@mrs-greenside I almost forgot to tag you for this Doc Roe x y/n! Here’s a one shot for you until I write a multiple chapter series with y/n 🪖 ♠️ 🦅❤️

#band of brothers #hbo war #ww2 #101st airborne #easy company #eugene roe #doc roe #shane taylor #eugene roe x reader #medic #eugene roe imagine #one shot #scissors

127 notes · View notes

pit-and-the-pen · 5 months ago

Text

My Sisters Keeper- PT I

Summary: Rose has protected Violet for as long as they've been alive. But in the riders' quadrant, you live to be a rider or die trying.

Content warning: Cursing, canon level fighting.

WC: 6.5k

divider by @tsunami-of-tears

I stood outside of my mothers office, ringing my hands. I had stopped minutes ago. Working up the courage to walk in there and give my mother a piece of my mind. Through the thick wooden door I heard exactly what I needed to. That tone my mother so often got. The one that I fought to make sure she never used with Violet. I shoved through the doorway, ignoring the tingle it shot through my arms.

“You can’t let her go through with this mom.”

“Rose!” Mira scolded me immediately. But I kept my eyes locked on my mother. General Sorrengail.

As I held her glare, I heard the faint rumble of thunder.

“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do with my daughter.” She spoke slowly, eliciting every word,

“I will if you’re sending her off to get killed.”

“Sorrengail’s are riders. You’re a rider.”

“Brennan was a rider too.” Her face fell for a fraction of a second before she stood up a little straighter, squaring back her shoulders.

“She is going. End of discussion.” I opened my mouth to speak. “End.Of.Discussion.Rose. Now get out.” Her nostrils flared and I clenched my hands into fists by my side. Sensing that I was about to really lose it, Mira tugged on my arm. Pulling me from the room with Violet walking behind us.

“Do you have a death wish?” Mira scolds me the moment we’re out of earshot from the door.

“If it keeps her safe.”

“You keep her safe by surviving the parapet, not by pissing off the general so much she kills you before you can.”

“Mira-”

“Stop. I’m right here.” Violer cuts me off and I feel shame heat up my cheeks.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t think you can protect yourself…” I grapple with the words, they come out too fast and everything sounds wrong.

“I get it. But I need you to believe in me. I need someone to think that I’m going to make it.” The words cut through me. Sobering my rage and I nod. Mira rolls her eyes at the two of us.

“Now, if we’re done being so sentimental. Here.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out two matching vests.

“Are those…”

“Dragon scales. Yes. Got them from Teine during his last molt. Put them on, and don’t take them off. Both of you.” She hands Violet and I the vests and helps Violets into hers. I study mine as I slide it on. A simple vest but the scales extend up higher on mine, right to the base of my head. It would completely cover my neck. Mira sees me struggling to fix the top part in place and comes over to give me a hand.

“It ties down into the vest, that way no one could cut it or untie it if they get your hands on you.” She pulls the leather ties into two holes on the top of my shoulders. I give my neck a twist back and forth. Surprisingly, it doesn’t cut off my movement. It fits perfectly snug. She gives me a proud nod and I try not to blush under the weight of her gaze.

“Now, other matters. This bag weighs nearly as much as you do, Vi. What the hell is in here.”

“Just stuff that I’ll need.” Violet answers as Mira starts pulling book after book from the pack.

“You’ll still have access to the archives. You don’t need all of these.” Violet starts to protest.

“I’ll keep these with me. I promise.” Mira continues before Violet could interrupt her. “And you need to change. Those robes will become a sail up on the parapet.”

Mira quickly shoves some riding leathers into Violet's arms. Gesturing for her to change right there. She does and I get a view of just how small my sister is. She was trained to be a scribe. She hasn’t had years to build the muscle that I have. The gray tips in her hair tell just how much the fever affected her more.

“And if you won’t cut your hair, at least tie it back.” Mira says. I sigh and motion for Violet to turn around so I can braid it back. She finally gives her a once over and makes a content grunt. “Better.”

She looks over at me and doesn’t seem to find anything she needs to change.

“As expected. Although you should cut your hair too.”

“I’d have to shave half of it to get rid of it, ya know?”

I know she’s talking about the silver streak that starts from my scalp. Only about the width of my hand but enough to let people know that both twins were affected.

“Let them know, I don’t care. It’ll just make it better when I beat them all.”

“She’s got a point.” Violet murmurs in agreement with me. Mira rolls her eyes more dramatically this time. She looks like she is about to say something before a bell cuts off her words.

“Shit. Okay, one last thing for both of you.” She reaches into her sheathes and pulls out three daggers and slides them into Violet’s vest. Then she hands me my sword.

“Both of them are balanced for you. I know you’re used to that sword Rose. It’s better than any stock you’ll find in the college.” I put it in place on my back and the moment it’s settled Mira sweeps both of us up in a bone crushing hug. My hands go numb but I force them to hug her back anyways. She releases us as a second bell tolls and she walks us only to the edge of the steps.

“Don’t make me an only child. Or make me live with only one twin.”

And that’s all we get before we start climbing the stairs, watching Mira disappear around a corner. I grab a hold of Violet's hand as we start climbing, my arm out behind me. Eventually we reach the rest of the group. The others that are waiting their turn to cross the parapet. The line is longer than I imagined.

Violet and I are sandwiched in between a girl with dark skin and curly hair tied up against the crown of her head, and a blond boy who is fiddling with a golden ring on a chain around his neck.

“I’m Rhiannon.” She says to me, I almost flinch. Not expecting her to talk to either one of us. When I don’t respond fast enough, Violet reaches past me to extend her hand to the girl.

“I’m Violet and the grumpy one is Rose.”

“Twins?” She says, eyeing the both of us. We nod.

“Cool.”

“I’m Dylan.” The boy behind us chips in and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Dylan goes on about the girl he’s engaged to back home. “We’re waiting until I graduate but the first thing I’m doing is marrying her. We wanted to do it before but she told me she could wait.”

Violet nods along and I try to look interested. Don’t make friends. That was what I’ve been told for as long as I can remember. You don’t make friends here. Because it will only hurt that much more when you have to watch them die. Violet apparently didn’t get the memo.

Violet is quiet for a little bit and I can finally see the parapet ahead of us.

“What size shoe do you wear?” She asks the girl in front of us, Rhiannon. I’m trying to forget her name but I just can’t for some reason.

“Eight.” She answers, seeming a little confused.

“I’m a seven and half so it’ll be tight, but you need to switch shoes with me.” I snap my head back to Violet.

“Are you crazy?” I hiss in a whisper to her. She ignores me.

“With those shoes, you’ll slip right off the edge.” And she’s already taking off her shoe, holding it out for the girl to take. Rhiannon does the same. Whispering her thanks.

We finally get to the front of the line. Rhiannon gives her name before the two of us.

“Name?” The rider at the parapet asked the two of us.

“Rose Sorrengail.”

“Violet Sorrengail” The rider snapped her eyes up. Studying both of us.

“As in General Sorrengail?”

I rolled my eyes as I looked back at Violet before I quickly nodded to the rider in front of us.

“The one and only.”

“I thought there was only one coming through this year?” The rider quirked an eyebrow as her gaze fell to Violet. I felt that oh too familiar bubble rise in my chest.

“Well there's two. So are you going to let us go now?” I crossed my arms, almost daring the rider to say something back.

“Come on, some of us actually want to get through this thing. Are you both going to keep yapping or cross?” A voice from behind Dylan calls, and I turn my head around to see glacial blue eyes filled with so much pure loathing that it almost makes me flinch. “No one cares what your last name is. Either get moving or get out of my way.” I snap my jaw shut.

“Go ahead.” She waves Violet through, giving my sister's hand one last squeeze. .

“See you both on the other side.” Violet says as she takes her first step onto the parapet. It goes against everything I’ve ever been taught. Keep Violet safe. That was the reason I was the rider and she was the scribe. My breath catches as she stumbles for half a second. She’s nimble but I’m scared she'll be knocked over with the way her arms are limply held out beside her.

Finally, she’s far enough across that they let me go.

Mira was right, the wind was wicked up on the wall. The stray bits of my hair whipped around my face, luckily I had the sense to tie it back or else I wouldn’t be able to see a damned thing. I take a steadying breath to try to calm my raging heartbeat. I’m a Sorrengail. I am a rider. I was trained to be a rider my whole life. I will not die today. The words Violet said earlier echoes in my ears. Neither of us will. I keep my eyes trained on my sister's braid, the silver hair peeking out through the woven strands of hair. She stumbles again and I bolt a step or two closer towards her. Catching up to her as much as I can while still keeping my own footing. It’s slicker than mud up here on the smooth stones. I’m close enough to Violet that I could reach out and grab her if need be. But I know she needs to do this on her own. She’ll never let me live it down if I help her get through this. But she loses her footing as a strong gust of wind blows and she almost goes over the side.

I curse and beg my feet to move faster. I swore I heard something pop as her knee landed on the hard ground. She’s half hanging on and I can’t catch up with her. No matter how hard I clench the muscles in my core, the wind is too strong to fight against so I’m forced to sit and watch as Violet scrambles to pull herself up.

“Come on, Vi.” I shout and I see her rolling onto her back, safely on the parapet again. Well as safe as she’s going to get up here. I let out a relieved sigh and focused on the path in front of me again.

But before I can pull my focus back to me, I hear a curse then a yelp from behind me. I risk a glance backwards just in time to see Dylan go over the ledge. My body acts faster than I do, leaping towards the spot where his foot would have just been but I’m too slow. Too slow by a long shot and I see his panicked look as he realizes he’s falling. I close my eyes before I can see him land. Damn it Violet.

That move wasted strength and I have to push myself off of my stomach. Wobbling ever so slightly as I lock eyes with the boy from earlier. Jack Barlow, I heard him when he gave his name loud and proud for everyone to hear. He smirks and puts his head down like a bull as he starts to charge at me. He doesn't miss a step. Doesn’t stumble for a second as he closes the gap in between us and it’s my turn for panic to wash over me. I force my muscles to work, to turn in the opposite direction and run. I can’t make out the words Jack is screaming at me over the wind but I know that look. Jack is ready to kill me and my sister. He turns around and pulls another person over the edge of the parapet as if to prove his point.

My side hurts, my calves are screaming at me as I put my weight into my thighs, forcing my center of gravity lower as I break into a run.

“Violet, move.” I shout as I almost catch up with her. “Move. faster.” I grit out when she doesn’t speed up. She glances backwards and I know she sees the same thing I do. Jack barreled towards us at a breakneck speed. Her eyes go wide and she, thankfully, picks up the pace. We have less than a third of the parapet left in front of us but it’s more than enough time for Jack to catch up with us. I’m basically pushing Violet along with me, my hands on her back. Praying to Z that she moves faster.

I feel the air whoosh around me as I push her towards the other side. Towards whatever semblance of safety becoming a cadet will grant us. And I almost sigh with relief as I see Violet land on the other side, rolling on her shoulder in an unnatural angle, but safe nonetheless. My feet leave the ground to leap and I feel someone’s arm wrap around my waist. Years of training make my body move faster than my mind. I push all my weight forward. Just barely wiggling out of the grip on my waist and feeling all my breath get pushed out of me as I land on my back. I fight back the yelp as I feel a stone press into my neck. Sending a wave of pain so sharp it brings tears to my eyes. I scramble to my feet just in time to see Violet with a dagger aimed right between Jack’s legs.

“I’ll kill you.” He spits out.

“No you won’t. Because the way I see it. You’re still on the parapet and she’s a cadet. And she literally has you by the balls on this one.” The rider at the ledge says and I see Violet’s hand push just a little further and I see a tinge of green color Jack's face. I fight the smirk off of my face. Maybe Violet will survive after all. He snaps his teeth at her and I’m beside her instantly.

“Let me down.” He grits through his teeth and before I can protest, Violet is sheeting her dagger at her side and steps out of the way to let Jack step down. I gawk at her, but she avoids my gaze. Keeping her eyes locked on Barlow.

He steps up to her, chest almost touching hers. “When I get the chance, you’re fucking dead. Both of you.” I push Violet out of the way and tuck her behind me. I make myself as tall as possible as I force venom into my words.

“She might be our fathers daughter. But me, I got stuck with my mother.” I bit out. “So if you want to fuck with her, you go through me.” My fists balled against my sides.

“Bitch.” Jack spat near my feet. I fought the urge to strangle him right there. But Violet tugged on my arm, pulling me away from him..

“At least think of something original.” I muttered under my breath, letting my sister lead us closer to the college.

The rider at the edge doesn’t look the least bit surprised at this interaction as she asks for our names.

“Sorrengail?” She all but shouts and I wince. Suddenly feeling every set of eyes on us. I want to wrap myself around my sister. Shield her away from the wandering eyes of the other riders. And as I look around, there's only one that shakes me to my core. The dark hair, a rebel relic snaking along his neck.

I watch his tan skin flush with anger for a mere second before his face becomes ice cold. I know exactly who it is. Xaden Riorson. And before I can spit out anything to him. A warm hand wraps around my arm. Tugging. I go to push whoever it is off and am met with familiar brown eyes that almost make me melt. Dain.

“Shit.” He says under his breath as he looks from me to Violet. Violet who is desperately trying to hide the way she isn’t putting weight on her left leg.

“Dain.” I fight to keep my voice neutral. To keep the way I’m swooning out of it. And he tugs both of us over to the side, out of hearing range from the other riders.

“What the hell are you doing here?” And I know he isn’t asking me. His eyes are only on Violet, concern laced on every feature of his gorgeous face. I shake my head, trying to calm my mind.

He’s changed in the last year since I saw him. His hair is a little longer and stubble covers the sides of his face. No longer the clean cut boy he was before he left for the riders quadrant. And I’m shocked at how…good he looks. Dressed in rider black, a sword peeking over his shoulder. He turns to me and I know he asked me something. Something that he’s expecting me to answer.

Violet nudges me with her elbow and it snaps me back to where we are. I just got caught gawking at my best friend. My best friend who not so subtly told me he’d be counting down the minutes until he saw me again. My best friend who I may or may not have been in love with since he started sprouting like a weed when we were fifteen.

“Sorry. Adrenaline.” I force the words out, my mouth suddenly feeling very dry.

He sighs but a hint of a smile plays at the edge of his mouth.

“Did you at least try to talk your mother out of it.” His words pull a snort from me.

“Have you met my mother?”

His hand runs through his hair and I try not to think about how soft it must feel. Gods I need to get it together if I’m supposed to join his squad.

“Listen, there's still time that we can sneak her into the scribes quadrant. They haven’t submitted the names and I know they would take her in a heartbeat.” Violet is already shaking her head.

“She would just drag me back by my hair. She promised me as much this morning.”

“She’ll get over it. Once you’re in she can’t make them take you.”

“Dain, face it. I’m a rider now despite you being less than thrilled. I made it across. Doesn’t that count for anything.” I see the internal war he’s fighting as he chews on her words. Letting them sink in.

“We’ll figure out something.” He says and Violet stalks away. Ready to give our names to the rider, not so patiently waiting for them. Leaving me alone with Dain for the first time in a year.

He smiles my smile. The one that makes one side tug up higher than the other and makes his eyes crinkle around the edges. Fuck it. I think and launch myself into his chest. Arms wrapping around his neck. He doesn't hesitate to squeeze me back, arms wrapping around my middle tight enough that my toes are the only thing touching the ground. He smells the same, cedar and wind and something that is utterly Dain. He releases me and holds me at arms length, looking me up and down so intensely that I fight the urge to look away.

“You look good. And in one piece.” He puts another step in between us as I nod. “Tell the girl to put you in my squad. Flame section, second squad. Tell her this is me cashing in the favor she owes me.” He shots me a wink before he walks away, joining the rest of the riders who are looking at us with varying levels of confusion. Let them think what they want. I’m not here to make any friends. I repeat the words to the red-head taking names. And she nods.

We wait for the rest of the rider candidates to make it across or fall. Once the formation is called, we find out that we lost almost 20 percent. The highest in the last decade. I blame the rain.

We stand in a rough set of lines, Violet and I falling into near perfect formation as we guide Rhiannon behind us. Then I see him, staring directly at Violet and I with a look that roots me to the spot. He whispers something to the rider calling names, Nyra I think her name is.

“Dain Aestos, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven’s.” All Dain does is nod, his face tense. Violet and I share a glance that lets me know neither of us know what is happening.

But as we passed the next squad, I sucked in a gasp. We’re being moved to fourth wing. Xadens wing. Xaden just stands there with that smirk that makes me want to push him over the edge. But I can’t. Infighting is strictly prohibited according to the codex. Of course, unless it can be excused as training or punishment. Which is exactly what Xaden will be able to do now. Xaden nods at Nyra and steps forward towards all of us.

“You’re all cadets now. Take a look at your squad, these are the only people who aren’t allowed to kill you, per the codex. You want a dragon? Then earn one.”

Cheers erupt around us. Violet and I just glance at each other. I break formation to grab my hand in hers and Dain looks back, looks down at our joined hands and shakes his head. I don’t let go as Violet goes to pull her hand from mine.

“And I bet some of you are feeling pretty bad ass right now. You made it into your first year, right? The elite, the chosen. Invincible even?”

More cheers but the tone of his voice makes my stomach curl. The cheers get louder but over them I can hear the telltale sound of wings.

Rhiannon gaps besides me. I lock my muscles into place to stop from fleeing as the riot flies right towards us. Instead I keep my head held high. Forcing my heartbeat to slow. Dragons can smell a coward from miles away.

They land mere feet from us, the force enough to shake the ground. Screams rip through the air, but I keep my gaze ahead of me.

I hear the sound of footfalls as people start to dash out of formation. I don’t close my eyes in time as I see the curl of flame reach out. And that smell, the smell of burnt flesh is one that I know I’ll never forget. It’s enough to make me gag. Violet squeezes my hand but says nothing.

“Anyone else feel like changing their mind?” Silence. “No? Well then, half of you will be dead by the end of this year. Another third the year after. And even fewer will make it ‘til graduation. No one cares who your mommy,” He stares right at Violet and I. “or you daddy is here. Here you’re nothing more than a cadet. So who here still feels invincible.” More silence weighs the air like a blanket. “Good. Because to them you’re not, to them you’re just prey.”

We’re left to our own devices for the rest of the day. Dain quickly pulls Violet to somewhere deeper into the college once they dismiss us from formation. I don’t wait around for them, instead going up to the dorms to sit for a second. The dorms are already noisy. Full of cadets talking over each other and I just lay down in my bed, pushing my pillow over my ears to drown out the noise of people I don’t want to get to know. People that will most likely be dead in the next couple of months. The thought shouldn’t bother me. I was trained to be a rider. And the only thing a rider cares about is their squad and their wings. But that doesn’t stop the single tear that drips down my face as I recall the way Dylan looked at me when he realized he was going to die. When he realized he would never get to marry that pretty girl back home. I lock the thoughts away into some deep vault in my mind. I don’t have time for weakness. I grant myself the moment to feel and then sit up in my bunk. Rolling my shoulders back with a deep breath. I stretch out the tension in my neck. Feeling the nerves protest against the movement but ignore it.

I stay in the barracks until it’s time for dinner then head back right after I’m done. Violet lingers, talking to Rhiannon and the rest of our squad. I have no interest in fighting through the awkward glances and down right hateful glares of some of our fellow cadets.

The next morning we’re called to formation after breakfast. Then comes the worst part of the day, the death roll. Name after name is called. Not enough time to process them, let alone mourn.

Suddenly the names just stop. And that’s all there is before squad leaders turn to talk to us. Dain only gives Violet and I a quick once over before his face takes on that neutral look that has something inside of me clawing to get out.

“I expect to see you all alive when we get to the sparring gym later.” And I feel Violet tense beside me. Right, the first day meant we have trials. A simple way to assess where all of us are with fighting. This will determine who we are put up against throughout the year. Do well and you put a target on your back, do poorly and you get an even bigger target on your back. Either way you’re screwed.

“Sawyer” Dain calls to the boy beside him.

“I’ll get them to class.”

Sawyer shouts out the instructions on how to get to the classroom and I try my best to picture the steps. Storing them in my memory in hopes that I won't forget them within twenty minutes.

Rhiannon, Violet and I walk together. I really hoped she would let h er go after the parapet. But it seems she’s intent on keeping her around, so I’ll tolerate her for now.

A faint bird whistle has my head spinning. I catch that familiar tuff of brown hair and hook my arm around Violets pulling us away from Rhiannon.

He ducks into a corner, hidden from sight.

“How’s your knee?”

“It hurts but I’ll live.”

“Good. Did anyone try to screw with you two last night?” He’s scanning us for injuries. We both shake our heads.

“No one tried to kill us last night, if that's what you're asking.” I cross my arms, already annoyed by his hovering.

“Dain. Take a breath.” I snapped at him.

“You should both cut your hair.” He points to both of our braids.

“Don’t you start with me now.” Violet groans.

“Why were we moved to fourth wing?”

It’s Dain’s turn to groan. His hand went to the side of his face, rubbing the stubble.

“Dain?” Violet presses expectantly.

“Fine. Riorson want’s Rose dead. Well both of you. But when he heard Rose was joining this year, he never shut up about it. It’s common knowledge and you just so happen to make it even more fun for him. Two birds with one stone or something.”

“He’ll have to get through me first.”

“And that’s exactly what he wants, Ro.” He snaps back at me. “Just try to avoid him. As best as you can. He’s a wingleader so he is personally allowed to make your life a living hell. So please.” He turns to me fully. “Please don’t give him a reason to.”

I roll my eyes and he grabs my hand. I flush from head to toe. “Rose. I’m serious here. Don’t give him more of a reason. Please.” And it’s that hint of concern. Concern so deep it makes my face hot that has me nodding my head.

“You’re thinking like a rider now.” Violet mutters to herself.

“I’m still me. Promise.” he taps his shoulder, where his signet patch should be. “I just have this now.”

My eyes go wide as I realize what his patch means. Classified. What signet does he have that warrants that?

“I can read a person's recent memories.” And it’s whispered like a confession. I feel a frisson of fear.

“Dain, that’s illegal.”

“Not like that. I can’t hear them from across the room. I have to touch a person’s face and it’s incredible.”

“Okay, we’re going to be late if we keep talking.” I say as I hear the noise above us grow louder.

“Just remember, stay away from Xaden. Low profile. Both of you.” He points to us and we both nod our head before we part ways. But as we do, I see Xaden leaning over the railing to shout down at us.

“I knew your parents were close but this is something else.” He shakes his head. “Tell me which one of you is he fucking?”

If I wasn’t blushing I am now. Even the tips of Dain’s ears tinge with pink.

“He can’t hurt you right? You’re a squad leader and he’d have to call a quorum?”

“Yes but he can hurt you two.”

“I expected better from you Aestos. Should learn to hide your friends better.” He locks eyes on me. He was trying to bait us and I gave him all the ammunition he needed to make my life hell.

“Run. Now” Dain orders and I grab Violet's arm and we bolt.

My brain is mush throughout history, but of course Violet is the star pupil without even trying. We just barely make it to battle brief. Stuck in the first row thanks to the seats Rhiannon saves for us.

Professor Markham stands at the front of the class as Devra steps aside to make room for him. His eyes soften as he lands on Violet. Of course he would recognize her. She trained under him for most of her life and he was certain she would be the best scribe in years. And she would have been. Still is.

We launch right into the first question. No preamble to get us ready, straight to business. My eyes cloud over as I try to study the map, trying to focus on the details. This was always Violet’s strength not mine but I fight to keep up with her as she mutters to herself.

Markham pushes us for questions and I hear Vilet mutter something to Rhiannon who calls out loudly.

“What altitude was the village at?”

His eyes flicker to Violet who makes a point of looking anywhere but him.

“A little less than a thousand feet. Why?”

She shrinks into herself a little. I don’t blame her, MArkham is intense when he wants to be.

“Just seems a little high for an attack.”

“Keep going.” Markham pushes and Violet chimes in when Rhiannon pauses.

Question after question and my head is reeling trying to keep up. I’m trying to connect the dots that she’s already seen. Jack eventually cuts her off and I clench my hands by my side. Finding something to twirl between my fingers so I don’t choke him for the tone he uses with Violet. That self-righteous, pompous tone. The asshole has the nerve to try to talk down to her when she easily knows more than even the second years. Devra scolds him for it. And I only give him a small smirk as I turn back to the front of the room.

We’re dismissed shortly after and we all file into the gym. Now this. This I’m ready for. Violet may have me beat in academics But I can run circles around the first years in the gym.

We’re called to the mats in pairs.

We all watch in shock as Jack Barlow snaps the neck of his opponent. The sickening sound of bone crunching threatens to bring up my breakfast. He lets go of the limp body as the instructor rushes forward. Shouting at him. Barlow just stands with a shrug as he looks towards Violet and I. He’s strong but he’s big. Uncoordinated. He’d go down easy but Malek help you if he gets his arms around you.

I’m finally called to the mat after a flawless victory from Rhiannon. Stepping onto the mat, I will my focus on the person standing in front of me. I didn’t listen to their name. I don’t care about their name. I care about the fact that when they lunge at me, there's a slight twitch in their left shoulder. I dodge it easily enough. Side stepping out of the way. I catch their still extended arm between their wrist and elbow. He tries to swing out of my grip but I only use it as leverage to twist his arm behind his back, palm facing up. I don’t hesitate to bring my elbow down on his extended arm. The telltale crunch letting me know I broke some bone. He cries out and I follow him as he falls to the ground. I have to keep him from hitting me.

“Yield damn it. I broke your arm.” I grit out. But he doesn’t. Just swings widely, trying to find any purchase as I pin him on his side. And I’m suddenly more grateful than words can explain as his hand makes contact with the back of my neck. I tense for a second, expecting the wash of fire to explode from every nerve in my body. But there's nothing. Another heartbeat and nothing. I’m so happy I could cheer, but I only put more pressure onto his broken arm and he cries out again. I twist his shoulder back slightly, knee resting in the hollow of his armpit and I can feel the muscle tense under me as I place myself to dislocate his shoulder.

“Fine. I yield. I yield.” He yells as I still my foot. Stopping just in time for me to push him off of me. My shove knocks him onto his back and I can see the way he’s fighting the urge to cradle his arm. I sigh and stick my hand out for him to grab. He shoves it away and struggles to stand, slightly off balance.

Someone escorts him to the menders and I file back in line.

“He didn’t even touch you.” Rhiannon gasps out when I stand next to her. I shrug. Little does she know I’ve spent my whole life avoiding that very thing. Because if they do, I’m down. If I’m down then I’m dead. And no one here needs to know that. It’s bad enough they seem to be able to sniff out Violet’s weakness. But seeing mine. That might just be a death sentence for the both of us.

One more fight and then I tense as Violet’s name gets called. She paired up against a pink-haired second year and I freeze completely when I see the rebel mark on her forearm. Shit.

The two circle each other on the mat, whispering to each other too low for me to hear over the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

Imogen is fast. Faster than humanly possible.

“You can’t use your powers here.” Dain shouts. As Imogen flips Violet onto her back, my hand shoots out onto Dain’s arm. My fingers digging into the skin on his forearm to keep me from sprinting into the ring to pull Imogen off of my sister. A quick flash of metal makes my blood pressure skyrocket. She tried to use a dagger. I don’t feel relieved as Violet sends a punch that I know messes up her hand. Her thumb tucked in at just the right angle for the ligament to pop.

Imogen is a blur once again and has her pinned before the instructor can scold her for using her powers. “Yield” She calls as she shoves Violet’s face into the mat. She doesn’t and I watch in horror as Imogen pulls her arms further behind her back. Further than arms should bend and I lunge forward at the same time as Dain.

“Damn it, Violet, yield.” I call out. My voice died down just in time to hear the sickening crunch of bone again. This time followed by a cry I’m too familiar with.

Emetterio calls for the end of the match as Violet goes limp in front of me.

I’m rushing past Imogen, shoving her out of the way as I grab Violet. Shaking her slightly to try to get her to come back around.

“Oops.” Imogen says in a sickly sweet tone. She walks another step before I trip her, leg hooking against her ankle. She topples to the ground and I roll myself onto her. Straddling her hips, and pinning her wrists to her sides with my knees. She thrashes in my hold but I just place more of my weight on her, pressing harder with my foot.

“Try that shit again and you’re dead.”

“Not if I kill her first.” She snarls at me. And I push until I feel the bone move in her hand.

Suddenly I feel someone lifting me up by the collar of my shirt. Dain’s brown eyes stare into mine.

“She’s in your squad. Back off before you get in trouble.” He whispers as I try to squirm out of his hold.

“I don’t care.” I hiss back.

“But I do. Stop. Or are you going to make me pull rank?” I stopped squirming. Pushing myself out of his grasp.

“Go calm down. Now.” Dain hisses when I find my footing.

Imogen is smiling up at me. Like I did exactly what she wanted. And I probably did. But as I walk out of the gym, I realize I don’t give a shit what they think. Not if it means protecting Violet.

Taglist: @ninthcircleofprythian @sarawritestories @milswrites @daycourtofficial

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #dain aetos #dain aestos x reader #slow burn #friends to lovers #iron flame #iron flame fanfic #xaden x violet #dain aetos x reader #Fourth Wing oc #oc fanfiction #the empyrean #the empyrean series #the empyrean fanfic #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #riorgail

48 notes · View notes