#i also feel like guard dog would hate spy the most

[technicalgator]

Have some scrungly doodles of Guard Dog I did while at work :D

[writingsfromthegrave]

hi!! can i please get a bungou stray dogs matchup? im bisexual & use she/her pronouns btw :)

for my appearance: im 5’2, have long light brown hair, brown doe eyes, a button nose, a beauty mark above my lip, and a summer tan! for my body, uhhh best i can come to describe it is mitsuri kanroji… thats basically what i got goin on ansksnekfj! i love to dress fairly soft and girly, currently im obsessed with the balletcore aesthetic (i love leg warmers so much)!

for my personality: if it matters i am a cancer & esfj. but!! more importantly, id say im fairly bubbly and energetic! i have a huge heart i tend to wear on my sleeve, and i have a complete inability to hide what i feel, and i kinda hate that. i still love things though, i think emotions make us human! im also a bit of a people pleaser & i have anxiety so i can sometimes be a bit nervous but i got this usually!! im also very affectionate and clingy with people, i don’t even notice anymore aajdkrnke. my love language is touch, and im very cuddly :) im also a plant mom and have a soft spot for any kind of animal :)

please and thank you!!

I match you with . . .

Gin Akutagawa !!

♡ given your similar choices of fashion, you two had probably met in a small shop within a mall. when you were checking out your items, being the only person in line, gin was directly behind you. she didn't really notice you at first, sorting out her own items. as you left the store, making a little ding! noise, was when you caught her eye.

♡ it began with a few compliments exchanged, and then small talk. from there on, you two were good friends, meeting up with each other on the weekends. you'd frequently hang out in little shops or in a park, enjoying the scenery and animals that passed by.

♡ gin would listen to you talk and identify plants, taking notes of which ones you were already a mother to. she'd find your passion fascinating, asking frequent questions and even considering buying a few plants herself, taking advice from you.

♡ your bubbly personality matched well with gin's calmness, as weird as that sounds. she appreciated how energetic, sweet, and lively you were; as it was a change of pace from anyone in the mafia. you two could talk for days and days about anything & everything, if gin weren't so busy.

♡ that being said, you don't have to wear your heart on your sleeve for gin to notice something's up. she's very good at analyzing and reading people and will ask you what's up as soon as she notices you're off. if you don't want to talk about it, that's completely okay! she won't budge

♡ but overtime, the more flustered you became around her, the more your feelings really became apparent. she didn't ask you what's wrong and didn't dance around the question, she's really straightforward when it comes to things like this.

♡ "do you have... feelings, for me?" gin asked you, in the privacy of her own bedroom. you two sat on her bed, admiring a new plant you had bought a few days ago. the question seemed to come out of nowhere and caught you completely off guard. gin wasn't that great at timing.

♡ "it was too obvious." gin smiled, loving your completely stunned and blushing face. and from there on, you two were the cutest couple in yokohama, although ryuunosuke would say otherwise. as well as the best plant & animal moms on the earth.

♡ if you're ever feeling anxious, gin will be there to comfort you and cheer you up with soft words and small touches. she'd hold your hand, rub your back, whatever you wanted the most. she's a great listener and will attempt to help you however you want her to. gin may not always be available, but she'll try her best for you.

♡ how she broke the news to you that she was an active member in the port mafia was quite odd. truth be told, atsushi had been the one to inform you of this. he was on a mission and had been spying on gin AGAIN, spotting you with her, holding hands. he didn't know who you were and what your connection to her was, which enabled him to immediately track you down and make sure you knew of gin's career.

♡ you had said thank you to atsushi before leaving, returning home to confront gin about what had been said. you knew she was very very busy and her brother was quite the shady figure, but it was hard to believe your calm and collected girlfriend would be part of such an organization.

♡ gin was disappointed in the way you found out. she had explained everything to you, leaving no detail out. she promised you that she'd keep you safe & protected, never crossing into harm's path. it all became clear why she had brought you to so many expensive places and bought you very expensive things. and also why she was very busy.

♡ needless to say, it was a little wild, but your love was as strong as ever and you wouldn't change a thing about gin; as long as she was okay. you didn't have to meet the other agents, only akutagawa, which already happened... much to his dismay.

♡ she's not the biggest fan of PDA, but small little kisses and hand holding are def her thing. gin loves to play with your hair, brushing it for you, as long as you're okay with it. in private, she's down for cuddles whenever you want! prefers to be the big spoon always, but doesn't mind taking turns.

♡ if you're ever gone for a while, gin would gladly take care of your house, plants, animals, etc. when you're not there to do so. gives you such a big hug when you come back!!

♡ she's not the best, but will cook for you if you ask her to. appreciates taking care of you, and wants the same in return when she's too busy and needs a break. whatever you want, she'll make it, even if she doesn't quite like it herself. enjoys cooking for you and loves seeing you enjoy it!!

♡ overall gin just thinks you're the sweetest and most interesting person she's ever met,, she loves you so so much and vows to protect you the best she can.

[sosaysthenarrator]

Moxie (Stranger Things OC)- pre season one

Moxie is the weirdo of Hawkins. A teenage girl who randomly started appearing around town one day, no home address, no school records, no family. Most people just see her doing odd jobs for anybody willing to give her work. But many townspeople keep their distance from this wild child.

Moxie has never been one to follow the rules of polite society: willingly tells people when they’re being stupid, not one for small talk and pleasantries, talks about the most random things, and can never seem to be still for long. It gives the impression of an erratic and antagonistic stranger to the rest of the town. Something that Moxie will play up when around people she doesn’t like.

Rumors spread around about her, especially around the high school. Some say she was raised by wild animals, others say she escaped from the psych ward, and even a few say she’s a crazy Russian spy. All in all Moxie is seen as an outsider to most people in Hawkins.

But to those Moxie is close to they see a very different girl. She cares far too much for the people she like, will do absolutely anything for them. This high level of compassion also brings out her protective side, will literally fight for those she loves. If it came down to it she would rather herself be killed than anyone else. She’s responsible and calm under pressure.

Moxie is probably the closest to the Byers family. She started out being an occasional babysitter for Joyce since Moxie would do it for nothing but food and a place to sleep. She quickly became a regular helper in the household, doing a lot of the chores while Joyce and Johnathan are busy. She loves to listen to Johnathan talking about photography or Will talking about DnD.

Through watching over Will, Moxie became close with his friends as well. Since she (somehow) owns a car Moxie will sometimes drive the boys around town, she secretly loves doing it. She even has a walkie-talkie in case they need an emergency ride

If Moxie isn’t at the Byers’ house, she can sometimes be found at the Munson’s trailer. Eddie claims that freaks need to stick together, but Moxie thinks it might partially be because she brings food with her. Still she can’t complain about a place to sleep and some good company.

But many times Moxie would rather sleep in her car, not wanting to be seen as burden to the few people who actually like her. Especially on warm nights when she can just lay on the roof and look at the stars. It’s times like this where she can finally just be herself, not the town Weirdo, not the guard dog, not the caregiver, just the broken child she really is.

Moxie is more compassionate than she wants to admit, she can’t turn away from someone in pain. She was never really shown compassion as a child so she shows it to others instead. She would never want anyone to feel like she did, like no one cares. Wounded? First aid is in the trunk. Need to vent? She’s all ears. Close to tears? She’s not going anywhere.

If Moxie was being honest with herself, she hates being the weirdo. She wants to go to school and mingle with people her age. She wants parents who make curfews and ground her when she comes home late from a party. She wants a big group of friends and maybe even a boyfriend? She wants normal. But Moxie isn’t normal, she wasn’t even born normal.

So Moxie watches the sky and tries to calm her nerves. Something’s wrong, she can feel it.

Music she would listen to: I Want To Know What Love Is - Foreigner/ Shout - Tears for Fears/ Jessie’s Girl - Rick Springfield (tell no one)

Modern music that fits her: Girl Anachronism - The Dresden Dolls/ Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High - Arctic Monkeys/ I’d Rather Be Me - Mean Girls 

(Thanks for reading all this! I’d love to hear your feedback. any questions? any ideas? Who should she be shipped with? *wink*. Anyway I hope to maybe write a bit about her involvement in season one next)

[novasintheroom]

Hiya~ :D Saw your requests were open. Mind if I ask for one, please? Would you do me the honour of writing a 'lil somethin' somethin' with the bois' fem!S/O seeing them cry for the first time and how she would handle it? 2003 or Bayverse, your choice. ;) Please?

I had this ask nearly done and then my computer ATE it lmao I’m so sorry it took this long to answer!!!

Leo

·         Takes a lot to get this guy to cry tbh. Has to be something really tragic or traumatizing to get him going. That, or watching Coco

·         Which is exactly how you see him cry for the first time

·         The guys hadn’t seen many Disney movies, so you decide to rectify that with a Disney night. Coco is first, and Leo is Unprepared™ for Miguel and Coco singing together at the end

·         He has to leave like right after because he’s holding back sobs, and you’re like ‘wtf’. Like, it’s sad, and you’re a bit teary-eyed, but it’s not that bad, right?

·         You follow him and find him in a corner deep in the lair trying to get it together. You ask him what’s up, and he confesses that seeing Coco so old reminded him that Splinter’s getting old too, and he’s worried about keeping his family together once he passes

·         All of Raph’s threats to leave over the years have really dug under his skin

·         Gall, it’s heart wrenching to see him trying to hold it in and apologizing for his “stupid” worries. So you wrap him in a hug and tell him it’s okay to be sad about it, and to let it out. You’re surprised when he does start crying, even though it’s quiet.

·         You also tell him that he’s never gonna lose his family or you, even after Splinter’s gone. His family’s gonna stick around because everyone loves him.

·         He doesn’t cry much (read: at all) after that, but he comes to you a lot more when something bothers him or makes him sad. Really helps your relationship improve overall!

Raph

·         2nd most likely to cry out of the brothers. He’s an emotional guy okay.

·         Hates to be caught crying though lmao – would rather die before admit he shed a tear

·         First time you see him cry, you catch him on your roof before he can leave

·         It’s a surprise, since you weren’t expecting to see him that night, but you’re happy to see him anyways.

·         He’s a bit distant, though, like he’s trying to decide to leave or not. You ask him what’s up, and he just mumbles something you can’t hear. You ask again, and he sighs this aggravated sound and just sits on the roof

·         “I ran into some humans tonight. Stopped a mugging happening. Was gonna just get outta there after, but the people I saved started throwing rocks and bottles at me. Callin’ me a freak.”

·         You didn’t know, but that’s the third time this week that’s happened. He may not show it like Mikey, but that stuff still hurts to hear, even if it’s gotten a bit better working with the NYPD

·         He starts ranting about it, about how people just don’t care anymore, that he should’ve just let them get mugged instead of helping them because they didn’t deserve help (he doesn’t mean it, Splinter’s taught him better; but you know how anger can fuel meaningless words)

·         You sit beside him, dangling your feet over the roof’s side, and take his hand in yours while he talks. His throat grows tight, and he has to stop a few times to keep the tears from falling, and when one does, he just gets more angry and starts on another tangent. He doesn’t move from your side, though. You’re a balm to his wounds.

·         Eventually all he can do is breathe heavy, and in a broken voice, ask, “Why was I made like this? It’s not fair.” Gall, if that doesn’t just break your heart…

·         So you hug his arm, and tell him how much you love him. He’s right, it’s not fair that he has to live in the shadows, away from people when all he wants is to be normal. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve love and happiness, and you promise that you’ll always love him for him, not for what he could be or should be.

·         It’s exactly what he needs to hear. He knew there was a reason he came to you that night.

·         He still tries to not cry around you, but this experience helps him feel more comfortable in being vulnerable with you.

Donnie

·         Nearly as unlikely to cry as Leo, but not quite

·         His crying usually comes from tears of frustration more than anything

·         He’s a determined guy, and is hard-pressed to give up on something when he puts his mind to it

·         But man it’s aggravating when that tech he’s been working on for months just keeps blowing up or just won’t work and he can’t figure out why

·         That’s how you find him and see him cry for the first time. You come into the lair, rearing to have some fun with new tech Donnie said he was working on. When you get to his lab, he’s hunched over his desk. He didn’t notice you come in, and he sniffs a few times

·         Your hand on his shell makes him jump, and he tries wiping the tears away with the tails of his mask, asking you when you got here, how’s your day, oh no, he’s fine, just a bit of dust trailing in from the sewers

·         The air filter rattling at the desk makes that a bit doubtful

·         So you pull the paper screen he has nearby around the desk to give a bit more privacy and ask him what’s wrong. He tries to deny it – “it’s just dust, my eyes are tired from the screens,” etc. etc. – but then you ask about the little bug-like device sitting in front of him, and he sighs like all the world is wrong. It’s a new mobile spying device he’d been developing for tracking Foot Clan people in hard-to-reach places (i.e. lots of humans around), but its legs keep locking up, or the sound cuts out, and it’s so tiny and his hands are so big despite the tools he has specifically for that kind of stuff

·         A few more tears leak out, and he wipes them again

·         So you offer to help him with the little things – not just the bug, but getting him the water and food he’s been neglecting for hours as well

·         A full stomach always brings up anyone’s mood

·         You also force him to take a break and catch up on an episode of a TV show you’ve both been watching

·         He feels a lot better after all the care, and is so glad to have you around – especially when you get the bug’s legs working for the first time

Mikey

·         Oh he’s a crier, baby

·         If he hasn’t had a good cry in a month, something’s wrong. He fully subscribes to the belief that a good cry relieves stress lol

·         First time you see him cry is when you guys are just watching YouTube videos on your phone. One of those charity ads pop up for impounded and abused animals, and he is just gone. Sobbing into your shoulder, reaching for a blanket to wipe his nose on, the works

·         You’re just so caught off guard – like one minute you guys are laughing at some gamer playing Phasmophobia, the next he’s blubbering about the “poor kitties and dogs” and “why are people so cruel!”

·         Raph walks by and throws a tissue pack your way. “He’s gonna be there a minute. Get comfy.”

·         So you comfort Mikey, rubbing his shell and handing him tissues when one gets too soaked. His cry sessions usually morph into other things he’s been stressing or sad about, so it’s a lot of talking over the meaning of life, morals, etc. etc.

·         He even manages to get you to cry a bit, and then he’s comforting you about whatever you’re getting off your chest

·         Once it’s over, he’s back to his happy self, with a weight off his shoulders that honestly he didn’t realize was there

·         You learn to carry tissues in your pocket from then on – you never know when a stray kitten could set him off lmao

[thetriggeredhappy]

in the latest Dad!Spy fic, it seems like both of them have a degree of separation anxiety. largely *reasonable* separation anxiety because of the whole, y'know, Spy (and eventually Scout) being a mercenary thing, but it's still fascinating to see. i wonder how Spy would deal with easing Jeremy's anxiety and his own all the while knowing that he very well COULD be killed and leave his young son alone any time something goes wrong with work

spy as a dad would i think be extremely concerned about his kid’s safety to the point of paranoia, and the worst part of it all would be all the times when his paranoia is justified.

(warnings for discussion of canon-typical violence, none of it happening onscreen, and assorted mention of spy-type business)

-

Something about this felt so deeply... dishonest. Something he couldn’t quite place. Maybe some sense of irony, or... maybe just the sort of general guilt he’d had as a very young man starting to reverberate within him again. Whatever it was, sitting there and writing down the cipher of a message intended to ensure his son’s safety if he died, while that aforementioned son slept soundly against his shoulder, felt deeply morally wrong.

His eighth birthday was coming up. It was, according to Jeremy, a pretty big deal. And Jacques was aware that most children in more average situations would be having a party together, eating cake and playing games and having fun while he theoretically chatted with the other parents and talked about... school, or, extracurriculars. He wasn’t sure, to be honest, that was just his assumption. But Jeremy’s situation was anything but average, so he’d be making an attempt to do something else, something he’d enjoy enough that perhaps he would be able to put off the conversations of “why can’t I have normal friends?” for one more year. He’d heard about and marked down an annual fair, and found that this year the weekend it was taking place just so happened to also fall on Jeremy’s birthday.

It was a good excuse for why they were leaving town so swiftly. Much more justifiable to himself and more explainable to a very-nearly-eight-year-old than whispers on the wind of a pair of men he thought he’d killed twelve years previously being seen within the state and that alone being enough to make him very very nervous. He did not believe in coincidences, and moreover, he knew that him finding out about these men being alive was not an accident, it was a warning, and the only one he would be receiving before they struck to kill.

Regardless, he was still a bit troubled by it. And he knew it was an adjustment from the plans he’d been hesitantly laying for some time on where he would be and when, his route a closely guarded secret meant to be known to exactly three trustworthy people in entirely seperate areas of the world, and even then it was a risk he would never have taken previously. But him going missing would be several degrees more significant, as he’d realized roughly eight years ago.

A movement to shift, trying to keep his arm from falling asleep, was enough to wake up Jeremy, who blinked a few times down at what Jacques was writing as if waiting for the letters to make sense. “Is that Russian?” he mumbled sleepily after two minutes of silence.

“No,” he said, having to pause in his writing entirely, broken from the rhythm he’d gotten into. “It’s a cipher. Secret symbols and letters.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said simply, and went silent and still for long enough that he convinced himself that he’d surely fallen back asleep, and he was a bit startled when he spoke again. “Who are you writing secret symbols at?”

“A friend of mine,” he answered carefully, if kindly. “You’ve met him. Twice, actually. A very large man, who also wore a suit. I believe you told him you really liked his tie.”

Peter was a good man, or as good as one could be given the circumstances the two of them both worked in. He had made a very genuine effort at, as Jacques had requested, ‘easing up’ on the usual intimidating way that he carried himself when he’d been been told Jeremy would be there at one of the very brief meetings the two of them had. One was when Jeremy was three, and fully preoccupied with a gift he’d received for the holidays, and the other was when Jeremy was six. Apparently, Peter had decided the best way to appear less intimidating to a young child was to wear a tie plastered with a pattern of cartoonish bubbles. Jacques thought it was perhaps the most ridiculous thing he’d ever seen, but was promptly proven wrong when Jeremy pointed it out gleefully within moments of being in a room with the man.

If Jacques died unexpectedly in most of the mainland United States and immediately surrounding territories, Peter would likely be the one taking care of Jeremy. At least until the other two correspondents could stop by and negotiate further on what would happen with him. Peter, at least, could cook and survive alone for multiple people (as he’d proven before on at least one occasion where Jacques was too injured to take care of himself and required assistance), and if he would stoop so low as to wear a bubble-patterned tie because he wanted to avoid intimidating a six-year-old, he was likely capable of stooping low enough to perform other essential activities involved with raising a child.

“I don’t remember that,” Jeremy muttered, shifting slightly.

“That is fair,” he nodded. “You do meet a lot of people, mon lapin, it is not easy keeping names straight.”

He hummed in sleepy agreement. A pause. “That one looks like a dog,” he finally said, pointing at one of the little letters on the page.

He tilted his head, squinting a little. “Hm. I suppose it does,” he acquiesced.

“Does it mean dog?”

“It is not kanji, the characters represent letters, which spell words in German,” Jacques replied.

“Is it that letter that looks like a B but it isn’t and sounds like that one dog?”

“...Are you referring to an eszett?”

“Yeah.”

“...And what dog does it sound like, exactly?” Jacques asked, fully baffled.

“The one that howls really loud.”

“Howls really—mon lapin, are you referring to a basset hound?”

“Yeah!” he agreed, sitting up a little and smiling. “That’s it!”

He wanted to further investigate why the word eszett reminded his son of basset hounds, but Jeremy picked that moment to yawn, reminding him of something.

“Well, dogs or otherwise, I do believe that it’s past your bedtime. You should go to sleep,” he said, no room in his tone for argument.

The whining noises began and were silenced by a swift kiss to the top of his head and the setting aside of the notebook he was working from, moving as if to pick up Jeremy and properly put him to bed. But then more genuine protests began, Jeremy moving to dart beneath the sheets before he could even properly set his pen down.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” he asked earnestly, employing the use of his big blue too-much-like-his-mother’s eyes. A slightly disapproving tilt of the head did nothing to dissuade him, so Jacques sighed inwardly, standing regardless.

“Alright, alright,” he surrendered as he moved to also get ready for sleep, “but I will be awake rather early in the morning, and you do not get to complain at me if you also end up awake as a result.”

Jeremy didn’t look upset by this caveat in the slightest, just burrowing further and smiling like he’d won some sort of contest.

And he looked asleep enough by the time Jacques was back that he was very quiet and careful about getting back into bed, but woke up regardless with the express intent of tucking against his arm again.

And he knew he would miss this one day. His son was already growing up much too fast, and at very-nearly-eight-years-old was closer in many ways to twelve, and surely only had another year or so before he would be much too embarrassed to lean against his father’s shoulder this way, to comment upon how things looked like an animal, to speak so freely. Soon he would be having secrets, a life of his own that he’d know nothing about, and he looked forward to it of course but he would also miss it so very dearly.

He’d hate to miss any more of it by dying unexpectedly.

He wished he didn’t need to prepare for the worst. He wished he didn’t feel guilty for needing to work out details about what would happen if the nightmare scenario occurred. And more than that, he wished he didn’t have to feel all the more guilty about having no plan at all for what he would do if something happened to Jeremy. It was unthinkable. He couldn’t imagine having a world without his son in it, not anymore.

And so he leaned back as well, albiet so much more carefully with the understanding of the fact that children tend to be fragile, and couldn’t imagine.

[glassessence]

PGR - OC

I got so inspired by everyone’s creativity that I created my own OC ^^” Even though she’s a member of the Purifying Force, I hope she’ll still be received warmly. Special thanks to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs​ for their detailed posts about character creation that really made me think about Lydias! 

Warning: I may have gone a bit overboard with the detail. It’s a long read! Also, I threw in a not-so-subtle reference to the most traumatic Memory Rescue mission lmao. So proceed with caution, I guess HAHA

Name                          Lydias: Umbral

Type                            Offensive Support-type Construct

Service time              1 year

Psychological age    24

Activation date         15 March

Height                         167 cm

Weight                        59 kg

Vital fluid type          O

Faction                        Purifying Force

Rank                            A

Weapon                      Chakrams (preferred) /  Gun

Damage type             70% Dark, 30% Physical

Lydias is a support-type Construct modelled after Watanabe’s Astral frame. She has extreme stealth capabilities and excels at tracking, making her ideal for the execution of rogue and infected Constructs.

Her missions mostly involve infiltration and spying, although she’s also been deployed on assassination missions. Those orders come straight from Nikola and their records are kept top-secret, inaccessible even to Bianca.

Her frame is designed for long-range sniping and comes equipped with visual accuracy enhancements and superb calculative powers. However, Lydias prefers to engage her targets in close combat. Killing Constructs from afar feels cruel and cold, like they really are meaningless machines instead of former comrades.

She truly believes in the good of the Purifying Force, but hates the things she has to do. She doesn’t feel like she belongs, but also can’t see a future for herself anywhere else.

Her fighting style is very graceful, featuring a lot of spins and flips that are reminiscent of a dance. Her signature move is called “Blade Dance.”

B A C K G R O U N D 

Lydias was born to a wealthy family in Babylonia. Her mother joined the war effort as a Commandant shortly after she was born and is known as the leader of the elite task force, Cybele. Since then, Lydias has always wanted to follow in her mother’s famous footsteps.

Originally a Commandant of the Black Wolves, a certain incident caused her to give up the position and apply for reconstruction. Despite having low compatibility for Tantalum-193, her application was approved after negotiations with Nikola. Following her surgery, she was transferred to the Purifying Force.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Shows affection through actions rather than words. Bakes cakes for the humans of Babylonia in her free time

Philosophical, often ponders on the nature of humans and of the war

Likes to make dirty jokes and tease others

Obedient to a fault because she doesn’t trust her own judgement

Comes across as cold, but is just awkward with introductions

Doesn't think very highly of herself. Ignores it when other Constructs call her "traitorous hunting dog" but secretly thinks they're right

Loves the sea and the fathomless depths yet to be explored. Likes to go swimming at every opportunity

Prefers to work alone, but overprotective of her comrades when in a team. Frequently throws herself in harm’s way to shield her teammates. Knows it’s not good, but is too haunted by her past

Trusts easily, but is very guarded with her heart

Knows how to dance a lot of old-school styles like ballroom and ballet, but is too shy to ask anyone to practice with her

S E C R E T S

Has memorised a lot of poetry from before the Punishing Virus outbreak

Gets intensely lonely and jealous when seeing close squad camaraderie like Gray Raven’s

Avoids Kamui because he reminds her of someone she’s lost

Has spied on Watanabe extensively under Babylonian orders and is deeply fascinated by him

Doesn’t trust Nikola, but is unable to disobey his commands

Secretly harbours doubts about Babylonia’s mission to reclaim Earth

Has obtained special permission to download the data of the Black Wolves and often reads the records to keep them alive in her heart

V O I C E   L I N E S

“Team leader? No, I refuse. You’re making a grave mistake.”

“I’m not suited for protecting people.”

“My opinion on the Forsaken? They’re hardworking, loyal, and--Nevermind. We seem to share a similar goal.”

“The Black Wolves? Where did you hear of that name?! Don’t mention it again!”

“I baked a cake today. Would you like some?”

“Yes, I can dance. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell the others…”

“I can teach you to dance. Privately, if you’d like. Haha, just kidding.”

“Becoming a Construct was a decision I made rashly. I don’t necessarily regret it, but…”

“Are we really doing the right thing? This endless war… All these years… What have we really achieved?”

INTERLUDE

D U S K F A L L

A voice cracked over the intercom. “...dant…Com...ant...Commandant, do you hear me?!”

Lydias blinked. The urgency in his voice caught her off guard. Ferdinand kept his cool even in the most dire of situations. Something was very wrong. “Tell me, Ferdie.” Static. “Ferds? Come through!” Nothing. Communications had been poor ever since they’d entered this area, but they’d managed until now. For it to suddenly fail like that… it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Shit,” she said, turning to the other two Constructs with her. “On guard, guys. Something’s coming and comms are down.”

Ilya grimaced. “Sure it’s not one of Ferdinand’s pranks again?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Flora offered, even as she tightened her grip on her lance. “Pesky little bastard would find it hilarious.” Lydias said nothing. She was too tense. There was a taste in the air, a metallic tang that churned in her belly. Sweat dripped into her eye. Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back. “Relax, Commandant,” Ilya chuckled. “We’ll protect you like always. No need to be so scared all the time.”

Something in her loosened, just a bit. “Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you?” she retorted, trying to project confidence. “You guys with your fragile little M.I.N.Ds?” Flora laughed, a deep-belly rumble that Lydias loved. The knot in her stomach unravelled some more. “You do that, Commandant,” Flora said. “We’ll just twirl our pointy sticks at the bad guys.”

Lydias was just about to say something snarky when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She swirled, gun at the ready. There was still no word from Ferdinand. “I’m sensing a large Corrupted force in our perimeter,” Ilya reported. His voice had lost its casual lilt. “They’ve got us surrounded.”

Lydias cursed. “How’s that Memory retrieval coming along?”

“Slowly,” Ilya replied unhappily. Flora clicked her tongue. The Corrupted were visible now. They weren’t like anything Lydias had seen before. They carried advanced weapons - chainsaws and spears and bows - and seemed to be organised into phalanxes. Dread coiled in her belly. “We’ve been ambushed,” she breathed in horror. “Ferdinand tried to warn us. They must have blocked off comms.”

“Well, shit,” Flora grunted. The Corrupted army was within gunshot range now. “When the fuck did they get so smart?”

“Someone must be leading them,” Ilya said. “How did the information leak?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lydias said. “We need to retreat. Now.” A bullet flew by her head, burning the shell of her ear as it passed. Her heart hammered. “Back off,” Flora growled. She twirled her spear, eyes flashing as she impaled the Corrupted soldier. Beside her, Ilya stepped forward, fast as a flash, and stabbed one through the neck. Lydias fired off three shots, watching in grim satisfaction as two buried themselves in the heads of two infected Constructs.

The scene descended into chaos just as Ferdinand’s broken voice sounded in her ear. “...n...way! Comm...ant!”

-----------

Flora stumbled back. She was breathing heavily. Vital fluid leaked steadily from several places, staining her coat a rich purple. Ilya was behind her, grimacing. His left arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder. Sparks flew from the exposed wires within. Beside them, Lydias swayed unsteadily. She clutched at her stomach. Red blood seeped through her fingers. All their attempts to break through had failed. Things were looking more hopeless by the minute. 

“Commandant,” Ilya said, voice strained. “Turn off my pain receptors.” Flora nodded. “Same here.” Lydias coughed wetly. Her vision was growing dim. “It’s dangerous,” she admitted, wishing she could shut off her own terrible pain. “But there’s no other choice.” She authorised the command. Her team’s face relaxed immediately. She met their determined gazes and nodded. “We’re all gonna go home. Together.”

Ilya smiled. Flora grinned. But there was a sadness in their faces Lydias didn’t want to acknowledge. Her connection with Ferdinand was still blocked. He could be dead for all she knew. She turned away from the thought. Just survive, Lydias. And take the Wolves home.

Together, the Black Wolves rose. Ilya with his dagger and Flora with her spear. Unseen by Lydias, they nodded to each other. An agreement, a pact. A promise. Renewed, they threw themselves at the Corrupted like cornered animals. Slowly, inch by painful inch, an exit was being forced open. Corrupted weapons dug into their bodies, but they pushed on. 

Lydias fought beside them, swinging her chakrams haphazardly. Her gun had run out of ammo long ago. She stumbled, half-blind, and almost skewered herself on the end of a Corrupted sword. She could hardly think straight; blood loss was making her weak. Suddenly, a voice crackled in her mind. “Commandant!” Ferdinand’s voice tumbled through her hazy thoughts. “The signal jammer is gone. What’s your status?!”

Her heart soared, bringing with it a brief burst of clarity. “Ferdie! It’s an ambush. We need support!”

“I’ve already informed Babylonia,” he said urgently. “Reinforcement is on the way. I’m coming to you, Commandant. Just hold on!” His signal blinked to life, moving rapidly towards their location. Lydias smiled grimly. Ferdinand was on his way. Support was coming. Surely, they would be okay. They would make it out of this. She just had to hold on for a little longer. 

Flora’s signal pulsed unsteadily and Ilya’s grew fainter with every breath. Lydias clung with desperation to the unstable M.I.N.Ds of her Wolves. I will protect you.

-----------

“Coming through!” A ray of energy tore through the Corrupted wave. Lydias spied Ferdinand’s face through the sea of blades. She almost wept with relief. “Retreat,” she said hoarsely, struggling to stay conscious. “Black Wolves, retreat!”

On cue, Ilya and Flora rushed through the tunnel, half-carrying Lydias with them. Between one ferocious breath and the next, they’d broken through the Corrupted circle. She tumbled bonelessly into Ferdinand’s open arms. He took a brief moment to survey her and paled. “The meeting point isn’t far,” he said. “Support will be there.” He picked up Lydias and turned to run, but Ilya and Flora didn’t follow. 

“Sorry, but this is the end of the road for me,” Flora said wryly. “Didn’t think it’d end like this.” She spat out a wad of purple fluid. “At least these fuckers will go down with me.”

“And you get the privilege of dying by my side,” Ilya said primly, readjusting his grip on his dagger. Flora laughed, an edge of sadness in her voice. “Yeah, old man, I guess I do.”

Lydias stirred in Ferdinand’s arms. “No,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes. “I won’t allow it.” 

“Unfortunately, Commandant,” Ilya said. “This time it’s not up to you.” He raised his remaining hand in a salute. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Go on,” Flora growled. “We’ll make sure nobody pursues you.”

Ferdinand pursed his lips, but nodded tightly. Lydias fought in his grip. She hardly even felt the pain. “No!” she screamed, or tried to. It was hard to tell where her voice was. “Don’t! I forbid it! That’s an order!” He started running. She watched helplessly as the distance grew. “Stop! Go back, we have to help them! Stop!”

In the fading light, Ilya fell and was immediately consumed by a horde of Corrupted hands. His signal weakened then blinked out. A scream tore itself from her throat. She thrashed in Ferdinand’s grip and felt his hold on her loosen. White-hot pain shot through her body as she tumbled to the ground. Mad with grief, she crawled forward desperately, mind blank except for the desire to be with her Wolves. 

Strong arms lifted her up. Ferdinand’s lively voice was dull. “Please don’t do this, Lydias.” 

“Let go, Ferdie,” she said angrily. “We have to--” Flora’s signal flickered out. Lydias felt her spirit break. “No,” she cried. “Please, no.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Words abandoned her. The world seemed to shrink, compacting to a single thought: she had failed. 

-----------

She woke to white light. Something beeped steadily beside her. Tubes ran from her body to several machines like the tentacles of some deep sea creature. Her entire body hurt. Immediately, she reached for the Black Wolves, but their signals were absent, leaving her mind uncomfortably empty. Panic settled like ice in her veins. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. 

Surely, they had recalled their consciousnesses. Surely, she’d simply woken up early. And where was Ferdie? Gasping, Lydias stood, dragging her broken body to the wall of windows. She brought a fist to the cool glass. Nikola watched her from the other side. “Where are they,” she croaked. “What happened?”

He shook his head sympathetically. “They didn’t recall their consciousness. According to our records, Ilya and Flora died protecting you from pursuit. Ferdinand was infected.” His eyes were grave. “He guarded you until reinforcements arrived.”

She didn’t know if she could bear the answer, but she asked anyway. “And then?”

Nikola studied her for a long moment before giving in. “And then the Punishing Virus took over his M.I.N.D. He escaped because we prioritised your survival.” A desperate hope sparked to life within her. “So he’s still alive? Then there’s still a chance! Please, let me find him!”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” 

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

He turned away from her. “The Purifying Force has already been sent after him. I’m sorry, Lydias.”

-----------

Three weeks later

“Are you sure?” Nikola asked, studying her with intensity. “Your chances of success are only 47%.”

Lydias stared at him blankly. “I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it. Commandants are valuable to Babylonia. Perhaps even more than Constructs. Few possess the will and compatibility to stabilize M.I.N.Ds. Someone as experienced as you is not expendable.”

“Then I quit being a Commandant. I refuse to lead another squad.” She looked away. “I couldn’t protect any of them. Not a single one.” Her voice broke. “I’m not… I don’t think I can--I just can’t.”

Nikola considered her with some pity. “What do you want then, Lydias?”

“You know what I want. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I know you’re not afraid, but it seems to me like you seek it.”

She said nothing. Nikola sighed. “I’d rather not lose you completely. You have experience and ability. The Black Wolves were specifically chosen for that mission for your competence. Aife will increase our combat power significantly against the Corrupted.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unfortunate, but these things happen at war.”

“Say whatever you want,” Lydias said stubbornly. “But this is my final decision.”

“Fine,” Nikola said. “Your attempt at redemption is admirable. I’ll grant your request, but if you survive, you’ll work directly under me. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly.”

INTERLUDE HIDDEN CHAPTER

F A D I N G   L I G H T

Flora: Fairfrost - Voice Log 

*sounds of fighting* I hope this reaches you, Commandant. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer and… *grunting* I just wanna say goodbye. The old man’s already gone. I felt his signal die out a while ago. He went down taking a blade for me, can you believe it? Even though I’m the Attacker Construct. *panting* You know what his last words to me were? “It hurts.” As if our pain receptors weren’t turned off. I know what he means though. *blades clashing* After all, we all wanna go back home with you. But life’s a bit unfair, eh? For once, I don’t mind. Protecting your back… it almost makes me feel like a hero. That ain’t something you experience every day, y’know? *metal tearing* I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being someone worthy of love. *crash, wet coughing* It’s been my honour and privilege to have been one of your Wolves, Commandant. You’ll remember me, won’t you?

-----------

Ferdinand: Aegis - Voice Log 

Lydias… This will probably be my last communication with you. I never would have thought this would be how it ends, but… Well, I’m just glad that I get to spend my final moments with you. I can feel my M.I.N.D. slipping, but Babylonia will be here any second now. They’ll take care of you, the way I wish I could. *sigh* Ah, there are so many things I want to say. I have nothing to lose anymore, so I hope you’re ready to listen. *deep breath* I love you. The way you laugh at my jokes and tease me. The way you can talk about anything. Your smile, your lips. I love the way you kiss me. And of course, I love our late night activities… Such as you trying to teach me to dance. *short laughter* Were you expecting me to say something else, Commandant? You--*grunt, glitching* Looks like my time is running out. I should go, but promise me one thing, Lydias. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open, so that someone else can love you as you deserve. I--You--*glitches*

DATA CORRUPTED.

[katewaliss]

! write with me or fight with me!

you either die by my sword or the most painful head canons imaginable! *merida vc* choose yer fate

just kidding!

 hey there gaymers, i am crissy! i am 22, live in pst, go by she/her pronouns and honestly would very much like a distraction from life -- preferably in the form of 1x1 and rp in general. i am currently doing online school plus trying/failing at adulting, being a crazy pink haired college student living on microwave dimsum with my crazy fluffy demon cat, but that still leaves me with a lot of time and what better way to spend that time then crying and dying, am i right, boys? 

so without further ado ( adieu? idk gusundheit ) here are a list of discomboblulated plot things that have been floating around in my head that i might be fun to do ( plot fragments, ideas, ocs, fcs i like, settings, genres etc )! i’d prefer a message if u liked any of these in the inbox or dm form, my tumblr ims are open and my discord user is mr. worldwide#2918 ( pitbull supremacy ) but if ur shy i will message u and be annoying! 

lastly: i prefer hcing in the dms to replies, however i will do replies/ask memes slowly, i don’t really like making blogs and prefer google docs/discord and i ask ( gently and respectfully ) that minors do not interact.

thank u and happy hunger games! xx

COLLEGE TOTALLY SPIES -- i was really obsessed with this picture right here and i thought that the picture would be a good premise for a little four person group based on totally spies. i was thinking that these three college students/young adults some friends maybe not some enemies or just on completely different ends of the social agenda get bonded together when they accidentally end up roped in a top secret spy organization that is fronted by a record store. the details and flesh of the plot i think would be cute to figure out all together maybe in a google doc or a big discord so we can make the rp to perfect world building specifications. right now i have two spots open! 

my friend lexi over at comradc has taken the cool goth asian girl and is using lyrica okano

i am playing the freckly backwards hat lesbian in the red polo named aj mccallis and i think im using diana silvers ( not sure might switch to tati rodriguez )

we also have the cute blond girl w the dyed hair who is giving me kind of like sydney sweeney energies, blonde girl maybe like lalisa manoban/jinsoul,

and we have the rad black girl with the bandids who i would only accept black fcs for for such as diamond white, ryan destiny, salem mitchell, 

i’d prefer if this stayed kind of sapphic and female and enby friendly. we can def make make npcs and characters but i’d prefer if the characters looked like they do in the picture ( minus the white girls who can be racebent as long as there are vibes ) mostly bc i want the poc people to stay the correct poc! but yeah! if u like this message me specifically!!!!! seperately and hit me w a role ud like maybe an fc an idea anything < 3 im working on a google doc and discord sever

- i really want to play a himbo skater boy evan mock like its my dream i know nothing abt him other than he probably goes by something like mouth or juice or tris or dex or dante but !!!! he has buzzed hair he buzzes designs into, does stick n pokes, hates cops, will kiss anyone, likes to mosh at house shows, smokes a lot and sounds like crush from finding nemo, probably ur parents worst nightmare if im honest rodrick heffley energy -- adopt him for any plot

- i also really am obsessed with simay barlas who is my mascot rn -- i want to play her in some sort of dark academia setting with like gossip girl blair waldorf energies lu from elite and have her be really mean and cold and pretentious and play the cello and probably have secrets and be uptight idk the name mallory is resonating hard w me ( we could even do a gossip girl the secret history type group if people liked that ) 

-ok i also really really want to play streak aka silas montgomery who is like very like sidekick best friend to the golden boy main character, does a kick ass goat impression, class clown, relentlessly hits on like the most difficult person in school, does crazy things for laughs and attention, just wants to make people happy, only wears hawaiian shirts, finger guns, is going nowhere in life, his dad is probably the dean at whatever prestigious school also he is very very depressed and drinks often! love u! a I Feel Like Im The Worst So I Always Act Like Im The Best electra heart baby PINTEREST

also yes his hair is pink reg verse he did it on a dare but hp verse he did a potion wrong and it never came out

SOMEONE DO A LADY HANNIBAL WILL GRAHAM RP KILLING EVE RP W ME! i made this will graham adjacent gal for a genderbent hannigram rp her name is bisexual disaster enida johnson and sometimes goes by needy or will bc her middle name is willamena! has basically all the will things wears flannels is a mess but has a bunch of cats instead of dogs in her woods log cabin and im using crystal reed bc it fits perfect in my head idk if u like her hmu hit me w a lady hannibal PINTEREST

other stuff

ok i really want to do a princess and knight plot but with knight zendaya and princess anya taylor joy ???? ALKHALKSHALK LITERALLY HELLO literally modern or like dnd style i do not care but know i love dnd! we could make it like them goin on some skyrim quests like hi

speaking of dnd and skyrim if anyone wants to do like anything based in dnd stuff or skyrim stuff i am DOWN

jennifers body plot!!!! maybe set in college!!!!! sounds spicy i will do a f/f or m/m version leggo leggo 

UNTIL DAWN UNTIL DAWN!!!! i wanted to do a little like 6 person or mumu until dawn thing where everyone either makes new characters or characters based on the existing six! i made a girl adjacent josh character named riley PINTEREST who i love very much ( fc might change im thinking maybe medallion rahimi ) pls hmu if ur down

i looooooove breakfast at tiffanys!!!! like i really love breakfast at tiffanys we love a call girl broody author ship and i want to play a mishti rahman holly golightly type character so so bad 

pygmalion plot!!! basically like an author and the main character of their book comes to life and the book character is probably from a different period of time or realm so doesnt know how to do modern 2020 stuff like microwaves and the tv! and then maybe they get sucked into the characters book world thats written by the author and have to navigate that! enchanted! w the kdrama! energy!

GOSSIP GIRL PLOT ENERGIES

any sort of the secret history murder society until dawn ahs horror type setting i am on a kick rn 

i still really want a deaf sailor and siren plot bc that is so spicy or even like anything involving sirens like maybe one thats like vegetarian and doesnt like to eat humans so it ariel rescues one and keeps it safe!! or like only men are susceptible to the sirens song but aha! i am a woman! Romance!

anything in the realm of percy jackson i love mythology lets go i kind of want a echo narcisuss plot and i want it to hurt me so bad 

i will do harry potter stuff but only if its completely removed from the current canon like years in the future no existing families also maybe beauxbatons salem and drumstrang plots bc thats what matters

iiiiiiiii really like anime so i will do anything kakegurui, soul eater, ohshc

i kind of like grew up on the hunger games so i will gladly take any hunger games plots like young effie and haymitch is spicy or like a career tribute and one of the weaker poorer distracts enemies to lovers leggo

i have a kind of oc that had their parents die in a factory gas leak that was the governments fault and it turned them into a vigilante assasin that is slowly picking off bootlicker government people one by one pretending to be one of them until bam! gets attached to the rich asshole son or daughter of the head hauncho or one of the higher ups ... drama

rich little celebrity fussy wussy being held captive by the mafia and the tired stoic mafia guard but they fall in love 

i kind of like any plot that involves one person that is really loud or angry or dramatic or whiny and the other one is kind of sweet and gentle or does not talk much idk make brain happy 

speaking of!

no nonsense law student studying abroad in a european country and an artist there falls in love w them and is all romantic and gush and is like ur my muse!!! and they are like Go awAy and they explore the city together and themelseves its nice!

i want to be an avan jogia super villain idk why i need to but i do 

not to be a disney adult bc i am not but anastasia princesses dont kiss kitchen boys 

rival cheer captians? best friends brother? pop princess celebrity singer and like antiestablishment really angry rockstar in a publicity relationship? broody detective and sunshiney diner person that works at the diner they eat at everyday?

idk i will think of more hmu these can all be made f/f or m/m if they arent 

[anika-ann]

Tall as the Skyline, Roots Like a Tree (S.R.)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     

Word Count: 11,150 (oh, oh no)

Summary: You are one step from officially becoming a SHILED agent. Involved in a secret relationship with Captain America, you feel like the world might lie at your fingertips. Until it doesn’t because of your stupid inexplicable phobia.

Steve’s friend might be able to help… except it would take an open mind and a huge leap of faith on your part.

You wonder… how much can one endure to get where they want?

A/N: for a challenge hosted by @tilltheendwilliwrite​​. Congratulation to your rightfully earned milestone! Your writings are a work of wonder and you deserve evry single one of those followers *✧･

Prompt: Phobias - What if your phobias are based off how you died in a past life.

Warnings: !! Some might be extremely upsetting I’m afraid:  - elements of horror, talk about phobias (dogs and needles), character death (past lives), use of lethal injection, mention of murder, canon-typical violence (brief), swearing… French and fluff 

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ 

For the briefest moment, you allowed yourself to smirk as the door to the lab slid open, shuffling along the bodies two unconscious guards.

You knew cockiness was an enemy, but you the security system yielded after less than a minute of work. Was that supposed to be… hard? You guessed that taking the class that called anything but Hacking 101 bore fruit after all.

Also, you could smirk all you wanted – that obnoxious facemask you wore as a security measure might be obnoxious, narrowing your field of vision, but hiding your expression was a sweet perk of it.

Your smile slipped upon seeing the lab, upon being reminded of how much you hated the environment. The three scientists and two more guards staring at you did not help.

The alarm started blaring instantly.

Before the guards near the door could draw their guns, you sprang forward, kicking one of them to his knee and elbowed his face, causing him to fall to one knee with an unmistakable ‘crack’ in the joint. You twisted his gun from his right hand, using him as a shield as the other one fired his weapon.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the scientists gather by the wall, opening a small vault and placing a container that was doubtlessly that container there. Shit.

The first guard fell to the ground and you quickly aimed at the other one’s arm. He yelled and grabbed at his wound as crimson painted his already dark sleeve black, but didn’t release the weapon. Grimacing, you fired again, this time with more success. The gun clanked as it fell on the ground and you strode towards your opponent rapidly, knocking him out with a well-aimed punch to his temple before he could use the knife he pulled out from his sheath.

You turned on your heels, only to see the scientists had hogged improvised weapons; two of them armed themselves with those round flasks and started throwing them at you. You quickly ducked, swearing out loud when one of them grazed your arm. Luckily, you could barely feel the sting of the shards, barely sparing the injury a glance, crouching behind a counter instead.

Firing without much aim, you managed to hit something behind them, sending them to the ground as they tried to avoid the spray of sparks flying from the machine.

The third one, the only one with grey hair, was the one who nearly stopped your heart when he grabbed a dark bottle of something. You gulped in fright; you definitely didn’t want to be hit by that, whatever was the content.

Focus. Breathe, you chastised yourself mentally, narrowing your eyes at the last man standing, the senior scientist readjusting his hold. The moment was enough for you.

Two shots rang in the lab, followed by the sound of shattering glass and a scream. You peeked from your hideout, seeing crimson staining the snow-white lab coat, while the man tried his best to discard his stained shoes – or what was left of them – without touching the chemical with his bare hands.

Checking on your surroundings, making sure everyone else was still down, you paced to the scientist, grabbing a metal platter on your way, unceremoniously striking him in his head. He dropped to the ground and your path clear at last.

The vault made you sweat a bit, approximately two minutes passing before you managed to crack it. But here you were, pulling your gloves on – and you carefully extracted the container with three vial.

This time, you allowed yourself to smile fully.

“Bingo,” you mumbled to yourself, satisfaction rumbling deep in your chest.

The Sigma virus. Friggin’ jackpot.

Wasting no more time with revelling in your victory, you headed to the exit, container in one hand, gun in the other, just to make sure.

The sudden vice-strong grip on your ankle took you by surprise.

You weren’t proud of it, but you nearly yelped at the sensation, instinctively jerking your foot to free yourself as your gaze shot towards the attacker.

All of sudden, the world spun, your heartbeat skyrocketing, loud pounding echoing in your ears.

It was only one of the younger men in a lab coat, easily to be ridded off, unlike a guard, except-- except-

You felt your knees wobble, your chest constricting so tightly that when you tried to breathe in, it hurt. The gun slipped from your hand as did the container at the sudden wave of faintness.

No, no, no, please no--

The tip of the long needle rested against your calf, thick enough to pierce through your tactical suit, the liquid in it crystal clear, glimmering in the fluorescent light-

Your stomach made a quick somersault, your ribcage aching, darkness swimming in front of you-- it embraced you almost peacefully, as did the feeling of a free fall and then… then you felt nothing.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

A dull ache pondered at the back of your head, rush of blood in your temples, as you slowly realized you were lying on something soft – relatively soft –, dim lights dancing behind your closed eyelids. With each second passing, memories of what happened poked at your brain, causing you to groan.

Fucking shit, of course it would happen to you.

You passed out during your final exam – one that would officially saw you as a SHIELD agent. You royally fucked up.

Your heart raced, the headache only growing more intense with your anger rising. You were raging, in fact, the feeling bitter on your tongue, heavy in your stomach.

You had just ruined your shot at your dream job, because of a stupid fear of needles. There you were; a badass wannabe SHIELD agent, afraid of a harmless pointy object.

Just recalling the ugly thick thing brought nausea that told you the item was as far from harmless as you could imagine, but that wasn’t the point. The content of the syringe could be pure water for all you cared; you still fell apart like a house of cards under the slightest breeze, only seeing the needle too close to your body – and it meant that you failed.

Fuck needles. Fuck you.

“Hey, you with me?” a male voice asked, so gentle and careful it made you want to cry, startling you all the same, because him being here – wherever exactly ‘here’ was – was the last thing you expected.

“What are ya’ doin’ here?” you asked, throat unpleasantly dry, your tongue feeling like sandpaper, sticking to the roof of your mouth. In response, warm fingers closed around your bicep, shortly squeezing.

Your eyes snapped open, surprised by the touch; every minute ever since you had come clear about your mutual attraction, about your feelings for each other, you had tried to keep physical contact – or any contact at all – on minimum, at least in places where it could bring unwanted attention.

After all, Captain America had no business dating a to-be SHIELD agent. Better yet, the said to-be agent should not as much as try pursuing a relationship with Captain America.

But here you were, four months in, four months since your first date that left you with no doubt that you were quickly falling for the man behind the shield, exactly one person besides you and Steve knowing about it for they had eyes of the sharpest female spy known to the world.

And now Steve was here, by your bedside, touching you, no less-- well, not anymore. However, his concerned blue eyes fixed on your face still spoke volumes. One corner of his lips rose in a lopsided smile.

“Well, I’m checking on one of my best recruits. I was worried a bit,” Steve explained as if it was clear as day. Then, he sobered up a little. “No one is in the room. What they can’t see doesn’t hurt them… or us.”

You smiled at him weakly, shifting in the bed, testing the strength in your arms so you could sit up. It was embarrassing really – hell, it was maddening.

You couldn’t believe you had done that. You had passed fucking out. Because of your stupid phobia of needles. It had been in you since you could remember, ever-present. Most of the time, you could deal with it somehow, distracting yourself, making a deal with your hospital attendant to use peroral medication… or to simply made sure you were out of consciousness when needles couldn’t be avoided.

You weren’t a complete idiot; you knew it posed a problem, especially considering your career choices, but nothing seemed to work, any kind of therapy, not even exposure therapy. And you weren’t really into hypnosis, the idea of someone having power over your mind truly terrifying.

What drove you even crazier though was that you couldn’t recall why you should freak out at the sight of a needle alone in the first place. Your fear was absolutely laughable and you hated it from the bottom of your heart. However, that didn’t change the fact it was there, seeped deeply into your bones, just a glance at a damn needle causing your heart to hammer in your chest.

And seeing that-- that thing near you, the man’s finger ready to pump the whatever in you-

You trembled at the intense shiver that ran down your spine, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Steve’s voice snapped you from your trance, salvaging you from the spiral of self-depreciation and unpleasant memories.

“How do you feel?”

You almost wanted to scoff at the routine question, no matter how valid one it was.

“Tired. My ego is hurt. I’m mad at myself. Kinda glad you’re here,” you listed, answering honestly, unable to resist the pinch of sarcasm.

Steve smirked, yet his gaze remained kind.

“I’m kinda glad too… and hey, don’t be mad. You can’t help it. You did your best and from what I saw, you were absolutely amazing. I’m sure Cortez will still clear you for service.”

His optimism and support would be sweet hadn’t you been a realist.

“Steve, I literally passed out in the middle of a mission to retrieve vials with a dangerous virus. I’m pretty sure I dropped the container, actually,” you deadpanned, earning a grin. What was so funny?

“It didn’t break.” Okay, now you understood. But still. “You were about ten seconds from the end of the simulation. You might not pass with flying colours, but I have a firm belief that you will.”

You pondered for a second, staring at Steve’s expression; he was genuine in his effort to cheer you up, but also appeared perfectly serious on a professional level. He meant what he said. Against your will, a flicker of hope fluttered in your chest – and you could tell he noticed the change, the blue of his eyes diluted by a green twinkle of joy.

“If you say so…” you mumbled, now fully seated up, scooting so your back was resting against the headboard just in case your body betrayed you again.

“I say so. How about staying at my place tonight?”

You hesitated for a moment, weighting up your options; no matter the ray of hope he had provided, you had no doubt that your failure would come back to haunt you. Which meant that you would sulk at home, stuck with wanting to punch things, but being too exhausted to do so, because hello, passed out, and with crying yourself to sleep, possibly with a tub of ice-cream. Or you could do all that in Steve’s arms, which sounded more pleasant for sure, except it meant he might see a side of you he wasn’t ready for – and you weren’t ready to show him.

Steve’s eyes never left your face, hypnotizing, patiently waiting for you to think it through; but you did notice the minute fall of the corners of his lips when you hesitated a minute too long.

Oh no, you don’t.

“Sounds great,” you blurted out, a tired smile finding its way on your face as well, quickly turning brighter when Steve’s face lit up again. How could you even think about saying no? “Where can I find a doctor to tell them I’m completely fine and ready to sign discharge papers?”

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

An hour later, you were meeting Steve in the underground car park, relieved to find it empty except for your boyfriend. You slid to the front seat, softly returning his barely audible ‘hey’. The ride was silent, something heavy hanging in the air, something neither of you wanted to address; Steve was clutching the wheel tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white, but you didn’t find the courage to comment on it, wondering what that was about instead.

He had told you to meet him in the garage in an hour, saying that he only had one errand to run. It didn’t take you long to figure out what kind of an errant, however the idea of calling him out on his actions caused your stomach to twist unpleasantly.

You hadn’t talked until you were snuggled on the couch, mindlessly watching the TV – what was on again? – a steaming mug of tea in front of each of you.

“He’s not letting me pass, is he?”

Steve’s fingers stopped their periodic motion on the skin of your arm, his body tensing, his heart speeding up under your cheek just enough for you to notice as you had nestled your head on his chest.

The absence of immediate verbal answer was an answer on its own, his body language all you needed to catch on.

The pit in your stomach was now gaping open, a gnawing pain; a voice in your head whispered your dreams were in shambles. Tears burned in your eyes, but you kept them at bay.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t deserve to pass anyway.”

Steve instantly straightened in his position, his palms sprawling on your arms to pull you up as well, leaning down a bit in attempt to catch your gaze. Vain effort, naturally.

“Hey now, that’s not fair. They used your biggest weakness against you. It was—it was a real low blow,“ Steve argued, squeezing your arms firmer, probably trying to reassure you and get you to look at him.

You had to swallow against the lump forming in your throat, your gaze flickering to meet his gaze only to avert it again, unable to bear it.

“Well, had it been a real mission, I’d be dead or captured, spilling the agency’s secrets. It’s only fair.”

You heard Steve gulp in the silence that followed – he couldn’t argue with what you said.

“They are gonna use it again if I retake. But I’ll be more prepared next time, knowing it’s coming. I’ll-“ you stopped in the middle of a sentence, shaking your head with a bitter chuckle. The words tasted almost disgusting as you knew you were bullshiting yourself completely.

You had tried to fight it, to get rid of it, to swallow your fear, to bury it so deep it would never crawl out again. You had tried so many times. But the phobia just wasn’t going away, that stubborn piece of shit-!

You hated it so much. You hated it, because it kept getting in your way to happiness. You had dreamed of being an agent since you were twelve, feeling it in your bones like a damn calling. It only intensified when you met Steve, the desire growing practically unbearable once you started dating.

This wasn’t only about your pride anymore. This was about him being proud of you. This was about you being worthy of being by his side. You would be no Avenger by any means, but you’d be a SHIELD agent.

The rational part of you argued that love wasn’t to be bought by titles; your gut was telling you that despite the relatively short time you and Steve were an item – a rather stealthy one, but still an item – Steve wouldn’t leave you just because you didn’t succeed. He would love you just the same had you been a SHIELD agent, a doctor, a librarian, an artist, a worker in retail, a mechanic, anything. He wouldn’t care.

However, another part of you suggested that people talked and you’d hate to have Steve deal with that shit. Not to even mention that eventually, it might lead to him leaving you nonetheless because of the constant pressure, his heart be damned. Captain America and a SHIELD agent simply had a better ring to it than Captain America and a failed SHIELD agent.

Goddamnit, you had to succeed, for both you and him, because he was the best damn man you had ever met and he loved you, if his words of two weeks prior and his behaviour were anything to go by. And you loved him too.

You couldn’t lose him and you couldn’t lose against something as ridiculous as a needle.

But how?

You groaned, pressing the heal of your palm to your temple, feeling your headache return. “I’ll deal with it. It’s a Tomorrow Me problem.”

Steve chuckled at your antics and pressed a light kiss to the top of your head, sweet and loving, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek, causing your eyes to flutter close, a warm feeling of contentment sneakily replacing your agitation.

“And Tomorrow Me.”

At that, your eyes snapped open, blatantly staring at him.

Really? Tomorrow Him? What was he going to do? Out your relationship to Director Fury and start a battle for favouritism? No thank you.

You’d hate to be the woman who got somewhere because of her boyfriend’s connections. For one, it would be about as humiliating as passing out at the sight of a syringe. For second, it wouldn’t solve the problem of your phobia and – more importantly – the potential dangers it posed in the field.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Steve,” you hissed before you could think twice of it, before you could realize how absurd that thought was.

Steve would never do that; it went against what he believed in and he knew you’d never accept it.

Your jaw clenched when it hit you just how hurtful your words might have been, shame filling every fibre of your being, your gaze falling to your lap where your restless fingers fumbled together. You were acting like a little ungrateful piece of shit. Steve was only trying to help. He was only being here for you, declaring his support.

An apology already on your lips, his hand slipped under your chin, his thumb caressing your cheek before he applied the slightest pressure and raised your head to face him, his expression serious.

“This isn’t that,” he said, voice laced with severity. It caused your body feel as heavy as made of lead and yet unbearably weightless.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he added in a light joke then, his gaze locking with yours. “But I’d like to fight your battles with you. We’ll figure something out.”

He kept you in the beautiful prison of his eyes until you finally nodded, not voicing your doubts, not saying you were only convinced to a point.

You stretched out, catching the corner of his mouth with yours to express your gratitude and settled back into his chest with something dangerously resembling a smile tugging at your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words no less true despite the battle raging inside of your head. Of that you were certain. Of your future, not so much.

“I love you too.”

Despite the few stray tears that soaked into his shirt several minutes later, these were the last words spoken before you drifted off to sleep.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

Sensation of a free fall and an instinctive jerk of your foot snapped you from your restless sleep.

Your eyes opened to the darkness, a groan dying in your throat when you came to yourself enough to feel strong arms around you, ones belonging to a man you loved and whose sleep you sure as hell didn’t want to disturb. Less so since you were obviously lying in his bed where he had had to move you since you had fallen asleep on the couch.

You couldn’t remember what you dreamed of, but it must have been nothing pleasant.

However, Steve’s arms winding around you tighter, bringing you close to his warm bare chest definitely did count as pleasant and you hoped for an early return to the dreamland.

The lightest of kisses landed in the crook of your neck, whispers barely audible, mumbled to your skin.

“You alright?”

You grimaced, snuggling further into Steve’s form, your hand settling over his on your stomach.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you,” you said at the very same volume, wishing not to ruin the peace of the night any further.

“You didn’t.”

His reassurance eased your guilt only for a moment – only until you realized that what he said carried two different meanings.

You shifted in his arms, rolling over to look at him, finding his face without any trace of sleep… as if he never even tried to get a shut-eye in the first place. His eyes were like reflectors even in the dark of his bedroom, intense blue shining with something you couldn’t quite grasp. In only fed the guilt suddenly gnawing at your chest, for not only waking him up, but actually keeping him awake the whole time, his serum-boosted brain even more restless than yours.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” you apologized sincerely, your hand leaving the warmth of the sheets to lay on his cheek.

He smiled at you softly, covering your hand with his palm, bringing yours to his lips to show you he didn’t blame you, no matter how clear it was that you were the reason for him losing sleep. The guilt stabbed you again, your momentarily fully frantic mind racing, your lips quick to peck his shoulder, his sternum, his chin in silent apology.

“I’ve been simply… thinking. That’s not on you, mon cœur.”

Despite yourself, you smiled against his skin; his ‘mon cœur’ never failed to make you smile and feel warm all over. You had learned about his decent French when one of the recruits snapped at him, calling him an asshole in his mother tongue, clearly not expecting a comeback; a smart one, not necessarily a rude one, but certainly a hot one.

Steve then let casually slip a word or two in conversations, calling you his heart as if his French alone wasn’t turning you putty in his hands, and you were a goner.

“Nice attempt at distracting me,” you praised him, nestling your chin on his chest to face him. “What’s on your mind, mon amour?”

He hesitated, watching you for long moments as if assessing whether he should tell you or keep you in your blissful ignorance. You hoped that he wouldn’t shut you out, especially if his thoughts concerned you.

“I’m thinking… about Wanda,” Steve whispered finally, causing your heart to jump in your chest in surprise, your body going rigid. His eyes widened at instant, a groan leaving his throat, rumbling under your chin. “That came out so wrong— don’t look at me like that, it’s always you-“

“Sure am,” you snorted silently, relieved and actually rather amused. For all his smooth lines, he could be just as awkward as your next guy.

He swatted your rear lightly to shut you up, wordlessly telling you to quit being a smartass.

“Sorry. Please, go ahead, talk about your gorgeous Avengers recruit,” you encouraged him, earning a glare. “She’s gorgeous, you can’t deny that. And if not that, she’s definitely at least cute. Anyway. Speak up. I’m listening, Steve. It must be serious if it’s keeping you awake.”

He licked his lips, his gaze rising to the ceiling, his thumb drawing a circle on your bare arm.

“When we were fighting Ultron – Tony’s genius murder robot –, before Wanda joined our side… there was this fight and she… entered our mind, sort-of. She… she trapped us in visions, showing us our deepest fears. She offered a glimpse at things we were trying to keep buried inside for no one to see. The fear of… not being enough, not belonging, fear of missed chances that would never come back.”

You listened, gulping at the mentions of visions, of his very own fear lying in the open, simultaneously dreading where he was going with talking about it. You had a good idea that it wouldn’t get any more pleasant.

You squeezed his arm softly to ground him, noticing his breath hitching, determined to hear him out nonetheless.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you crooned sympathetically, even if it could barely make him feel any better.

He still seemed to appreciate it, gently threading his fingers through your hair, taking a deep calming breath.

“I’m here. The thing is, she showed us something else too, something more… primal, I suppose? Carnal? Like… fear of spiders, dark, drowning, things like that…?”

You stiffened, sensing that now he was much closer to hitting home that you liked. But you supposed he was about to make a point, so you tried to keep your voice neutral despite your curiosity about what that specifically meant for him.

“Okay?”

“You can ask what she showed me.”

You shifted in his embrace, frowning as he glanced at you – slightly uncomfortable, but definitely sincere.

“What… what did you see?” you asked lowly, your hand sliding down his arm to interlace your fingers with his.

His heart sped up under your chin, his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he still told you.

“I was torn apart by wolves. Dogs maybe, I’m not sure. I just remember claws and sharp teeth-“

“Jesus,” you breathed out at the vivid image appearing in front of your eyes, squeezing his hand tighter.

At the same time, your mind raced as much as his heart did.

Was Steve afraid of dogs? That would be… strange. For one, there was a reason he was compared to a golden retriever at times, but the idea was even more surprising because you had seen him interact with dogs on occasion. He was… maybe not enthusiastic exactly, but alright.

Why would he be scared of them anyway? Was there a story? A childhood memory perhaps? You of all people should know that phobias often had been caused by a negative experience in childhood – it was one of the reasons you hated yours so much, because you couldn’t pinpoint the moment that had caused it.

But this wasn’t about you. Not yet anyway, you guessed.

You remained silent as Steve gathered his thoughts, his eyes misted as he lost himself in a memory.

“I’m still not great with them, but I… manage. Wanda was the one to help me achieve that.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a jealous bitch of a voice whined. You shushed it mentally, trying to follow his train of thought. The conclusion was ridiculously clear.

“You think she can help me too,” you stated the obvious, finding Steve fully in the present again, gazing at you intensely.

“Only if you want to try. You… you don’t know what your fear is based on exactly, right? No concrete memory?”

You shook your head automatically. “No clue. One of my past therapists thought that it was the reason why our sessions weren’t working, not even after repeated exposure. We never got to the bottom of it.”

Steve was still watching you with almost unnerving intensity. There was more to what he was suggesting, you could tell. You only didn’t know what – was it about the nature of Wanda’s powers?

You wouldn’t lie – the idea of someone intruding your mind scared the hell out of you, but here you were… growing desperate to get rid of the only thing holding you back.

“She might be able to help then. But… eh, hear me out before passing judgement, okay?”

That caused you to frown deeply – wasn’t it what you were doing?

“Okay?”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek, wavering again and you sighed, propping yourself on your elbow, staring down at him in utter confusion and with a healthy amount of expectancy.

“Some people believe that-- no, uhm- what Wanda did was that she made me see the very cause of my fear, the exact memory. And this might not be making any sense at first, but— I was seeing it from my perspective, it was definitely me… and my hand was— it was a black man’s hand.”

“…huh?”

Colour you fucking clueless.

What the hell was he talking about?

Steve grimaced helplessly, his explanation apparently not turning out the way he wanted to.

“Some people believe that our fears are based… on the way we died in our past life,” he finally admitted and you… froze.

Your eyes grew wide, your body tensing and for a brief second, you wondered if Steve had gone completely mad, because the look on his face was deadly serious.

Past life?

Seriously? Steve, of all people, the very rational guy desperate for factfulness, was talking about reincarnation?

What. The actual. Fuck.

Steve, the guy who had scientists pump his body with supersoldier serum – by needles, of all things, seriously, the procedure sounded downright terrifying and reading about it made you respect him even more –, a guy who survived being frozen thanks to science, was trying to convince you that past lives existed.

Your mind went entirely blank.

The worst thing about it was that he had a solid reason to believe this thing, that was if he was telling the truth and he had been able to lessen his fear. And if Steve believed something, then for the reasons you had listed to yourself, there must have been a damn good portion of truth in it.

It was just a lot to wrap your head around.

You cleared your throat, feeling Steve’s eyes burning a hole into your head as he awaited your reaction, possibly with dread, which was perfectly justified.

It sounded insane… but.

“So… let me get this straight. You think that the origin of my fear lies in… some past life of mine. A life which ended, because of a-- a needle?” you choked out, the words sounding even crazier when spoken out loud.

You shook your head, still processing the information when Steve confirmed it. “Well… yes.”

“Uh-huh.”

You lowered yourself back to the cushions, rolling over to your back, staring at the ceiling instead. You could feel Steve fidget next to you nervously, his eyes still on you.

“You think I’m crazy.”

The corner of your lips twitched, your chest rising and falling calmly, the sentence easing the pressure that built there during his explanation.

“Well, yeah, but I knew that before you told me all that, so-“

“Hey-!“

You slapped your hand over his as it neared you, pinning it to the mattress and casting a grin in his direction, a strange feeling of contentment spreading through your body.

Maybe you fear wasn’t your fault. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that you needed help. Hell, even the great Steve Rogers, the bravest man you knew, had sought assistance – and then he had won.

Knowing that felt so damn liberating.

Mostly because maybe, just maybe, you had a chance of overcoming this. Maybe you could still become a SHIELD agent.

You were lying here in the bed, side by side, hand in hand, head turn to side, gazes locked, and while you were smiling, Steve’s lips slowly spread in a hesitant smile as well.

God, you loved this man so much, more than words could express.

“Thank you for trusting me with this, Steve,” you said simply, but from the very bottom of your heart.

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Does that mean you’re… willing to give it a shot?”

You shrugged, scooting closer to him and he eagerly opened his arms for you, contentedly wrapping you in his embrace again as you pressed a kiss to his sternum.

“Not gonna lie. It might be a very long shot and the idea of someone raking through my mind is… unsettling to say at least, but if you trust her enough to let her do that… I trust you, Steve. I trust your judgement and I believe you wouldn’t come up with something like this just for laughs. So yeah. I’m willing to give it a shot.”

His hand found its way under your chin to tilt your head back, chasing your mouth with his, sealing the deal with a surprisingly sensual kiss which turned into another and another… gradually growing lazier and sloppier until you settled for one last kiss goodnight, melting into each other like you belonged there and nowhere else.

Maybe you did – for all you knew, you could be lovers who reincarnated time and time again only to find each other across time and space.

The thought made you chuckle, the breathless sound escaping your lips before you finally fell asleep.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat on the couch, one you had taken after anxiously pacing the living room for what felt like forever. Steve had called Wanda the first thing in the morning-- well, almost the first thing, and she had agreed to meet you this very day, accepting the offer to be picked up after lunch.

One light meal later, because you could barely swallow anything with your throat tight and stomach twisted, and one unpleasant call later in which you learned you officially failed the exam, oh joy, here you were, waiting in Steve’s apartment in Brooklyn.

For the millionth time you thanked heavens for Steve wanting to have his own space outside the compound. You really didn’t want to deal with this near everyone and you weren’t certain you were comfortable with the woman you didn’t know at all in your crampy apartment.

The lock clicked and you jumped to your feet, instantly making your way to the door. You stopped in your tracks when you realized you would probably freak her out right from the start.

Better let Steve handle this part. And the introduction-

Shit, can she read my thoughts right now?!

Naturally, your mind suddenly filled with the most embarrassing moments of your life and you wanted to scream in frustration, mentally apologizing to the young ‘witch’.

Yep, still weird to think that.

One sweetly familiar and one foreign voice reached your ears, the female one chuckling silently and you just knew she heard every single one of your thoughts.

Well. Worse things had happened, you guessed.

You sighed, took a deep breath and tried to fix an inviting smile that wouldn’t seem too desperate and awkward as hell. You probably failed, but you would take what you could get.

“I still can’t believe Sam challenged you to a flying contest. I really thought he’s a sensible guy,” Steve said as they entered the common space and you wiped your sweaty palms to your jeans, searching his face first.

His lips were smiling, but if you looked into his eyes closely, you could read the hints of anxiety you felt yourself.

Your gaze shifted to his companion then; the pretty brunette with shade of red in her hair shrugged at Steve’s remark, smirking.

“Who am I to argue with him if he wants to have his behind handed to him?”

If you were being honest, you had been slightly intimidated at the mere idea of meeting the Scarlet Witch; however, you took an instant liking to her.

She was young and while her eyes carried pain of her complicated past, she radiated strength and positive energy, a glow of something extraordinary that had nothing to do with her powers, but more with her personality.

She met your gaze, smiling at you kindly and you shook yourself, registering Steve making his way to you, dropping a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Hi,” he whispered and you returned the sentiment, brushing his hand before deciding to grab it firmly and squeeze in greeting.

“Hello, miss Maximoff. I’d say ‘welcome’, but I’m not sure I have the right since this is Steve’s apartment,” you rambled, mentally cursing yourself for it. You couldn’t just keep your cool, could you?

The woman only smiled wider as you went and offered your hand to shake along with introducing yourself.

“I appreciate the sentiment anyway. And please, call me Wanda. It’s nice to meet you. I only heard good things.”

You frowned slightly, trying to imagine how much Steve could tell her about you during the ride, when Wanda subtly pointed to her head.

Oh. OH.

What should you even say to that? She had seen you before and possibly knew things about you she didn’t ask for (was that how that worked, people throwing thoughts on her without her will, or-) without even meeting you.

You gulped and from the corner of your eye, you noticed a slight hint of red to Steve’s cheeks. Interesting.

“Likewise. Uhm… I’m sorry to meet you like this though. I—we barely introduced and… I’m already asking for your help,” you said apologetically, honestly ashamed for that. “I’m sorry.”

It might have been a mutual decision of Steve and you to lay low with your relationship, which meant postponing meeting his friends to later, however it didn’t change the fact you felt like you were using Wanda.

It was not the best feeling in the world. This was how low you had steeped-

“Please, don’t even worry about it. Steve’s… friends are my friends as well. I’ll be happy to try and help, more so to help people that make Steve happy.”

A twinkle of mischief appeared in her eye and Steve next to you cleared his throat loudly, rushing to be a good host.

“Anything I can offer you, Wanda? Water, tea, coffee…?”

You did not miss the pointed look he gave her and the beautiful creature she was, she grinned at him, amusement dancing across her face.

“Tea would be great. Shall we sit?” she beckoned to the couch and you nodded, asking Steve for a cup of tea as well. Coffee and talked about your phobia did not sound like a good mix after all. “Alright. Let’s see what can we do about your situation.”

Steve had told her most of the essential information, obviously including the fact you didn’t know when the phobia developed.

“Okay. Are you comfortable with me trying to reach out into your mind? To create a mental connection of sort?” she asked after a while, sitting in an armchair opposite to you, while Steve nestled next to you in respectable distance, not touching you at all, letting you choose how much of a physical contact you wanted.

You greatly appreciated both Steve and Wanda for respecting your boundaries and allowing you to push them whichever direction as you seemed fit.

Because having Wanda probing in your head was fucking terrifying.

Steve trusts her, you reminded yourself, and she gave you no reason not to trust her either. She was in fact so welcoming you could cry.

Wanda smiled at you patiently and you felt heat rising into your cheeks, once again realizing she could probably hear your hesitance as well as seeing it.

“Yes. Tell me what to do,” you decided, hoping you sounded at least twice as firm as you felt. “…that is if I need to do something.”

“I’d be much more comfortable if you did, I’m sure you would like that better too. Once you do what I say, you will feel certain nudge, my mind reaching out – please, try to let me in. Now I want to you to close your eyes and imagine a safe space. A truly safe space, somewhere you feel like nothing can touch you, can’t hurt you in any way, not physical one, not emotional one. Just a completely safe place,” she coaxed you gently.

With a deep breath, you eyed Steve, catching his supportive smile before following her instructions.

Your first thought was of your childhood bedroom. You were surprised how sharp the memory felt – probably an effect of Wanda’s powers.

You stood there, as if truly there, looking at your desk, papers with amateur doodles scattered all over it, and you couldn’t but smile at the memory of your notebooks being filled with little results of boredom. And then the angry male voice reached your ears, followed by a shout from a woman, and the illusion shattered just like the plate that hit the ground, causing your eyes to snap open to reality.

The intense weight on your chest startled you, the fights you had heard from the relative safety of your room during your early years crushing your ribcage with each breath you tried to take.

You met Wanda’s kind eyes, feeling Steve’s hand gently brush the back of yours which was gripping the edge of the couch.

The young witch shook her head lightly, your gazes locked with such strength you felt like she was staring into your soul through a looking glass – and boy, did you feel like Alice in wonderland yourself.

“There’s no rush,” Wanda assured you, voice low. “You don’t need to force it. Breathe in, breathe out. In and out, how many times you need. Close your eyes and try to remember. When was the last time you felt truly safe?”

Steve’s hand squeezed yours before withdrawing and leaving you to your own thoughts again as you took several calming breaths and let your eyes flutter shut.

You honestly had no idea why you had thought of your childhood first, when you in fact only felt safe once you left to pursue your dream career. You loved your tiny apartment much more – because it was your space, your safe space.

Your couch bought on extra sale because of the horrendous colour, that bookshelf that remembered better days, but still didn’t yield under the weight of your books, the three pitiful plants you got only to shut your friend up… you walked to the poor excuse for a kitchen cabinets, involuntarily smiling at the mismatched door that your neighbour was able to get you and installed after the original one nearly knocked you out as if fell off without warning.

Your fingers traced the counter when a pair of strong hands landed softly on your hips, an arm sneaking around your stomach, a kiss pressed into the crook of your neck. It didn’t startle you, a sense of comfort enveloping you instead, Steve’s lips curling into a smile against your skin.

“Tu m’as manqué, mon cœur,” he admitted and you couldn’t but melt into his form, a content smile tugging on your lips.

“Missed you too.”

His grip grew stronger before he allowed you to turn in his embrace so you could give him a welcome kiss. He had been on a mission for a week and you somehow found yourself at that stage in a relationship where you felt comfortable enough to admit you fell hard for each other, while retaining that sense of your time together being precious and too limited no matter how much of it you actually spent together. Or at least that was what this was for you – judging by the satisfied smile painted on Steve’s lips when you withdrew to catch your breath, the feeling was mutual.

“…though that phrase is still not making a damn sense,” you complained, earning a chuckle and another kiss, his arms lifting you so you barely stood on your tiptoes.

You were an independent and a dare to say badass woman, but hey, you would not deny that such display of strength made your toes curl.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” you asked once he set you back down, though he never released you from the cage of his arms.

The sudden dull pressure in the back of your head surprised you, but wasn’t necessarily unpleasant.

More than anything else, it brought you back to reality a little; this was nothing but a memory. Steve appearing as if his motions slowed down only proved that.

Unsure what to do, you massaged the back of your head and stepped back, Steve’s arms easily falling; his gaze remained fixed on your though, patient. A game your mind had built, you realized, a mirage created with the witch’s help.

Let me in, Wanda had said. Yeah well, a manual to follow would be nice.

Willing yourself to relax as much as possible, you felt a slight pop and the pressure disappeared.

Before you could question it, a voice sounded somewhere, close but yet far.

“Thank you for letting me in,” Wanda said simply, causing you to jump few inches above the floor.

But the Steve in your memory nodded and you focused on breathing in and out, trying to take in his comforting presence in the safety of your apartment rather than focusing on Wanda, the intruder you invited.

The thought of the witch seeing this however felt anything but comforting – embarrassment filled your being instead. A part of you couldn’t quite believe Steve, your boyfriend of barely four months, belonged to your safe place as much as anything else.

You were honest with each other, but how would he react if he knew that? What Wanda must have been thinking?

“There is no reason to be ashamed,” her voice reassured you softly, sounding as if she was smiling a bit. This really was awkward. “I won’t tell on you either way, but you must know you are on his mind often. I believe I was being clear on that earlier. He would be – and he should be – honoured by this. Plus, it’s still your apartment, he’s just an addition.”

Letting her words sink in, you noticed a strange red glow by the edge of your couch, just a flicker of something that certainly didn’t belong – and sure as well wasn’t making you feel safe.

In fact, simply watching it caused your stomach to somersault.

“Think of your fear for a bit. What you see is a rift to the world you’re trying to reach.”

Balling your hands into fists, you gulped and reluctantly did as Wanda told you.

Needles. Christ, why.

The glimmer of red energy pulsated, growing in size considerably – and with it, so did the cold sensation in your stomach. Your breathing picked up, your heart hammering in your chest.

Gentle fingers curled around your wrist, causing you to look at Steve, having been ignoring him for a while. He swept his thumb over the sensitive skin on your inner wrist, a smile spreading on his lips when your eyes met.

“You’re doing great,” he encouraged you and you briefly wondered if this was your imagination, Wanda’s doing or actual real-life Steve touching you.

Whichever it was, it grounded you, your ribcage expanding easier despite the pain.

The rift stretched to your height, its powerful presence feeling like a punch in your solar plexus, making your skin crawl, your body shrinking into itself. The wave of nausea that hit you didn’t help either.

Your hand was lifted, lips brushing your palm before letting go.

“You’re going to hate this, but I need you to touch it,” Wanda instructed you and indeed, you hated the mere idea of coming closer to that thing. But what other option did you have?

Steve smiled at you again, supportive and understanding, and you clenched your jaw, forcing your feet, suddenly feeling like made of lead, to move.

“Once you touch it, you’ll find yourself in the memory. Sadly, I can’t follow you there, but trust me – and trust Steve –, we will pull you back. It’s nothing but a memory,” Wanda explained and that truly did not ease your building anxiety at all.

You supposed it shouldn’t have, she was only stating facts, but the remark about her and Steve did give you strength as did looking around your apartment again.

All you had to do was to touch that-- weird thing… and relive your death. Death involving needles. Charming.

You took another shaky step, every fibre on your being screaming at you to run the opposite direction instead. Leaning onto the couch for support as your legs turned wobbly, you let the familiar sensation of the fabric sooth you.

You had to do this. You could do this.

You casted one more glance at Steve, who crossed the short distance you had walked and placed his hand on your shoulder, clearly not having any difficulty approaching the rift. It made sense, you supposed – this was your fear you were dealing with, not his.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, his palm sliding down your back, its warmth so damn pleasant against the goosebumps that rose on your skin. “And you’ve got this, mon cœur.”

“Damn you,” you mumbled and that bastard had the audacity to chuckle and squeeze your hip.

“Go. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Easier said than done.

With a suffocating lump in your throat, you forced yourself to take the last step and reached out your trembling hand towards the pulsing red energy.

A scream ripped from your throat when that thing gripped you fiercely and sucked you in.

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The lights were bright, burning in your eyes as did the unshed tears. After the dark corridors you had walked with a man at each of your side, both shorter than you, and another man behind your back, the startling clinical white made you nauseous.

Or maybe that was just knowing the inevitability of fate. Bile rose to your throat, the world spinning, shadows of the hall following you like claws of death, already reading for you at the mere thought of what waited in this room.

You didn’t try to run; each of your steps felt too heavy for that.

You didn’t try to break free of the men’s hold on your veiny arms; they felt like made of lead, weak and clammy from the lack of sleep and sustenance.

You didn’t try to insist on your innocence anymore; there was no point in talking if words fell on deaf ears.

People always heard what they wanted to hear. People always saw what they wanted to see.

Truth was a matter of circumstances and death was the only certitude a man had.

The door fell shut behind your group of gloom, the white walls closing on around you, the hairs on the back of neck standing at attention. The icy tone of the room barely aggravated the cold seeped in your core, in your very bones. Each step echoed in the almost empty room, every breath – as much as your last would.

You had practised yesterday; you knew the drill. Enter the room slowly. Don’t look at the one-way glass as it might startle the high representative of state whose daughter you had (supposedly) violated and strangled to death. Lie down and let them strap you to the table.

When you had obediently sat down and one of the guards – Franz they called him, decent guy you thought – met your gaze, a warning in his eyes mingling with regret as you laid down.

Staring onto the ceiling, tears gathering in your eyes, your heart was beating its way out of your chest, anger, so much anger at the injustice once again battling with the feeling of resignation. Justice didn’t exist int his world; they had found their scapegoat. Your innocence virtually didn’t exist. Your testimony was a lie, everyone thought so.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard the buckles at your feet, a torturously loud sound in the silent room and then your feet were restrained. Your chest right under your armpits came next; the guard fastened it harshly, so tight your eyes snapped open in surprise.

You stared into the eyes of a guilty man, a man whose face held no remorse for wrecking and taking two lives. You remembered the black orbits from the night you saw them widened with wildness, a savage pleasure gleaming in the dark, noticing your figure behind the beams.

Strange, you pondered. The restraint on your chest felt like a tickle in comparison to the pressure on your chest when you looked into those eyes, your breath hitching in your throat, suffocating weigh squeezing your lungs and heart; was this how it was going to feel? You had heard rumours.

Like a liquid fire running in your veins, slowly licking until it reached your heart. You wondered – who spread the tale? Everyone with this treatment met their death, didn’t they? Then how could people know?

Was it something made up so the inmates died a bit by bit, every minute before even feeling the pinch of the needles?

A violent shudder shook your whole body, but you didn’t think you moved at all.

Your limbs didn’t belong to you anymore as they uncuffed your wrists in order to strap them to the table instead.

God, it was so so cold- what was the last time you were warm?

Your eyes followed Adams’ hands, hands painted in invisible blood, invisible tonight as least, as they fixed the strap on your right wrist and moved to your head, jerking it so you faced the blinding light instead.

You couldn’t plead Satan to take the true killer anymore; you were out of time. You prayed instead.

You prayed for your soul to find peace and justice, for the light to engulf you quickly, before you could feel the fire in your veins in stark contrast to the ice in them present now.

Now I lay me down to sleep

To an eternal sleep. To death. This was your end. Tears ran down your cheeks, silent and useless.  Shame on a man who cries for himself – but you lied to yourself, just this one time, that you were crying for the unjust world where lies and deceit won over the truth.

I pray the Lord my Soul to keep

Your gaze blurry, your head restrained, you could still make up the needles piercing the skin of your forearms, attached to the bags on the IV poles. The liquid in them was clear, pure like water, seemingly so innocent – as much as the inmate on the table.

If I should die before I wake

It was a strange dichotomy – the numbness spreading from one side, the burning heat from the other. Your fingers twitched and closed into a tight fist at the sudden surge of pain, gnawing, blinding.

Oh God, please, please-

I pray the Lord my Soul to take

A scream filled the blank room, a sound so animalistic it couldn’t belong to a human being, deafening to your ears. You couldn’t breath as the fire burned its way through your arm, leaving ashes in its wake-

“-the fuck-“

“What’s-“

“Just--it! ---thing!”

The fire subdued as the world lost its colour, everything swallowed by blackness, a bleary image of a spasming arm with a glint of thin piece of metal flickering before disappearing altogether.

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Your throat burned from the scream ripping from your its depth, a blurry image of a woman in front of you casing you to back out into the bed— no, you were sitting up now, the room wasn’t white, was darker-- the scream was definitely not male anymore, no, it was a female one, it was yours-

The room spun and disappeared, replaced by a sharp image of an apartment, your apartment, and you looked around frantically, catching a glimpse of a tall blonde figure in the corner of the room, your heart, hammering so painfully in your aching ribcage fluttering in relief. Your gaze swiftly returned to the man, like a drowning person to the sun glimmering on the surface of water.

Steve.

Your apartment and Steve.

Your name was being called silently and you realized that the scream had died down, only your harsh breathing remaining.

“You’re safe. Remember? Nothing can touch you here, no one can, not unless you let them,” Wanda’s voice soothed you, causing your eyes to flutter shut in respite, your knees giving out.

Despite having been standing several feet from you, Steve was suddenly there to catch you, scooping you into his arms, enveloping you in a protective embrace while you sobbed into his shirt, his soft voice whispering sweet nonsense, not saying a word of complaint about how desperately you were clinging to him, inhaling his aftershave and detergent and him.

You’re safe. I’ve got you.

Je te protègerai toujours, mon cœur.

I’ve got you, I’ve got you.

I love you.

When you opened your eyes again, the images blended together. His heart was beating vigorously against your cheek, his lips pressed into your hair, but you could hear Wanda moving around – you were in Steve’s apartment, back to reality.

Upon realizing that, you gripped him with all you had and whispered a shaky sorry, which only resulted in his embrace growing tighter.

It took you another hour to settle down enough to discuss what would be your next steps, ones that certainly wouldn’t be taken today.

“I know how hard this is to hear, but I won’t just magically snap my fingers to make it go away – I mean, I could, but no one can tell the consequences in the long run. It will take several sessions, short though, when we dull your very understandable fear a bit. You’re strong – I believe we can deal with this. Thank you for trusting me,” Wanda said nonsensically, as if she wasn’t the one helping you.

Even if her help so far felt entirely awful.

“Thank you, Wanda. Truly. It means a lot.”

“Thank you,” you echoed Steve’s words lamely and heard a hint of a smile in Wanda’s voice when she was leaving the apartment.

“You’re welcome. Get some rest. I can get to the compound on my own – I need to practise for the match with Sam anyway.”

Involuntarily, the corners of your lips twitched at the image of Wanda floating above the city and landing in front of Steve’s gobsmacked friend, cursing himself for challenging a witch. About thirty seconds later, you were laughing, practically doubled over with the force of it, tears still streaming down your face.

To be fair, you did deserve to be hysterical all you wanted.

Much later, you fell into an uneasy sleep, Steve’s voice laced with amusement and concern at the same time as he read to you about adventures of a young telekinetic girl, about her sweet teacher and the terrible headmistress bullying them both.

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You might have been fiddling with your fingers, anxious about what you were about to face, but you couldn’t’ quite shush the excitement spurting in you with each joyous beat of your heart.

You eyed Steve in search for silent support – or any support really – but if his expression was anything to go by, he was highly amused at your antics. The corners of his lips were twitching as he stared ahead, ignoring your very pointed glare.

You elbowed his ribs playfully, but made sure to dig you bone into him. Cocky little shit.

He actually chuckled at that, fully aware that you probably hurt yourself more than you hurt him, because his damn serum turned his abs into stone. A very hot stone in both senses of the word, a stone sensitive as hell when you ran your fingers over it (or your mouth, for that matter), but still.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he let out between his chuckles and you didn’t believe him one bit.

You knew that you were being a tiny bit ridiculous, but… he didn’t have to rude about it.

“Likely story,” you muttered grumpily, trying to recall just when had the anxious but fully supportive Steve turned into a laughing mess.

It must have been when you passed your fucking exam. Finally!

After weeks of Wanda working her magic on you – and of your work on yourself, being very brave and determined, as she had never forgot to mention, as did Steve – you had been able to retake your exam, the last one in the line of group missions and tests. You could have been done long before today, but truthfully, you couldn’t be happier with the result.

Besides passing your exams and officially becoming a SHIELD agent, you had learned how to control your phobia. Not entirely, but considerably, just enough to do your damn job.

Your dream job.

The fact that it meant you and Steve not having to be shy about your relationship anymore was an entirely pleasant bonus. By no means you had been shy when you succeeded – you had assaulted him right in front of Director Fury, jumping into your very secret boyfriend’s arms. Thank god for Steve’s reflexes, because while he had seemed utterly shocked at your lunge, he still hadn’t dropped you. Needless to say, you both had to collect your jaws from the floor when the director just snorted in amusement, a knowing look in his eye. Apparently, nothing escaped this man’s attention. It was almost funny, actually.

Naturally, with majority of your friend being off to missions, because they had graduated spy school at their first attempts, you were left with Steve to celebrate with; no complaints were filed though, celebrating in Steve style was very much glorious. One might say you even saw fireworks.

Anyway, since his friends were in town for once, he decided that the time had come for you to meet them, with not having to hide your relationship anymore and all that.

Hence you being worked up again; you were about to meet Steve friends. The Avengers.

You had every right to be slightly terrified. What if they didn’t like you? SHIELD agent or not, how would you face an angry Hulk? Or a demigod? Hell, Barton or Romanoff—okay, Romanoff at least knew you existed, occasionally catching your gaze in the corridor or during training, but-? And Wilson could fly in that get-up of his-! Not to mention the android!

Steve’s arm winded around your waist, pulling you to his side and spinning you to him until you were chest to chest. That did effectively snap you from your gloomy thoughts.

“You just defeated your phobia and showed everyone what a great agent you will make. You can handle a bunch of people with the same goal as yours,” Steve reasoned with you, smiling down at you widely, even dropping a kiss on your forehead. “Plus, they are excited to meet you.”

Was that supposed to make you feel better? Because your stomach dropped even lower and you sighed, meeting Steve’s eyes, soft and yet joyful.

His enthusiasm was infectious. Plus, you did become a SHIELD agent today… Steve had shown you his appreciating in many ways… plenty of reasons to be happy.

“What did you tell them about me?”

“All the good things. Stop worrying, they have to be nice to you anyway, it’s your day after all.” A smile spread on your face at the reminder and Steve’s arm tightened around you. “The moment we started to plan the reunion, they knew celebrating your big break would be on agenda.”

You leaned your head onto Steve’s chest contentedly and closed your eyes, showing him how sweet you thought he was being. In the back of your mind, you wondered just how long one elevator ride could be, even if it was to the top of the Avengers Tower, and if the AI running the building happened to slow it down just so you could try and calm your nerves.

Which was exactly why it took a moment for Steve’s words to truly register. Your eyes snapped open in horror and you quickly retreated, not missing the shit-eating grin forming on your boyfriend’s lips.

“Steve… when did you start planning this get-together?” you asked warily, narrowing your eyes at him and swallowing the luckily unnecessary panic.

“Four days ago. Why?”

He knew damn well why!

You slapped his left peck with vigour, half-angry, half-moved by his stunt. He chuckled and placed his palm over yours, pinning it to his chest, shaking with hushed laughter.

“This isn’t funny, Steve!” you argued only half-heartedly, because to his utter luck, things worked out. “What if I have failed? That would be so-”

He removed his hand from yours in order to cradle your jaw. You wanted to be angry with him, you did. Furious, in fact, but he was making it really hard and you officially got your dream job today and- yeah, he was hard to be mad at, especially when he spoke with sincerity that took your breath away.

“I knew you wouldn’t. I had faith in my girl.”

Steve pecked your lips as you sputtered a curse, frustrated with your inability to chastise him properly when he was being charming and melting your heart with every word.

“You know, everyone keeps saying that you’re reckless…” you grumbled and one corner of his lips rose higher in a lopsided smile, twinkling eyes watching you with a blend of admiration and amusement and love and how could you resist him? “Punk…”

His fingers sneaked to your nape, pulling you in for a deep kiss; lips parting, tongues meeting just because you couldn’t get enough of each other and of the delight you tasted on each other with every kiss.

His arm just lifted you from the ground a few inches, causing your stomach to flutter in the most pleasant way, when the elevator doors slid open and a snarky comment welcomed you.

“Rude.”

You jerked away from Steve, startled, but the ball was in his court as he had to place you back on the ground. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment when your gaze fell on a smirking Tony Stark.

Well, shit. As far as first impressions went, this could have happened much better…

“You sure you want to celebrate here and not somewhere else?” the Ironman himself continued, gesturing his hand in a so-so motion and you wished to face hundreds of needles rather than him and the rest of Steve’s friend who had just got a free show. A rather PG one, but a show nevertheless.

“Stark, quit being a dick,” a female voice stuck up for you, rendering you speechless as it didn’t come from Wanda, but from Natasha Romanoff. “Congratulations!”

The rest of the team had various mixture of amusement and surprise written over their faces, but neither of them seemed hostile. In fact, they did look eager to meet you despite your dramatic entrance. Wanda smiled at you reassuringly from behind the android – Vision, you believed – and nodded, probably hearing your thoughts practically scream at her.

You smiled back at the witch before turning to the Black Widow herself.

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff,” you replied politely and a grin that told you that one day, you might even become friends, appeared on her face.

“You’re welcome, Agent 18.”

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S.R.masterlist

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Title taken from Halsey’s Haunting. Pics used are not mine, credit to original creators.

Also: yes, Steve was reading Matilda to our brave to-be SHLED agent as a comfort book.

Thank you for reading!

(If you at least a bit and you’re a fan of Wanda being awesome, please consider reading Walpurgis Night. It’s a result of rereading too much of T’s work anyway.)

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Tags:  @scentedsongrebel​ @orions-nebula​ @cxptain​ @patzammit​ @kayteewritessteve​

[plumoh]

[FE3H] keen ears and sharp eyes

Word count: 9103

Summary: Among the soldiers of their battalions, Sylvain and Felix's relationship becomes a topic of interest. A story of knights gossiping about their lieges. / Sylvix

Note: AO3 link. I love the idea of battalions! There are spoilers for the entirety of the Azure Moon route.

Richard Dumont is an average man, with average skills and average intellect. His blond hair cropped short on his head and his blue eyes aren’t what he considers his best physical traits. He’s not good enough to get into the Royal Guard, but he’s strong-willed and he wields a lance with accuracy, so that should count for something. 

He’s been part of the knights of Gautier for more than ten years, ever since he was a squire in his teens, and he’s been assigned to Lord Sylvain Gautier’s troops for the past five years. He’s older than him, and yet it feels like there is a whole world separating them—even when he discounts the fact he’s the son of a minor noble and Sylvain is his lord. Richard isn’t someone who takes his ambitions too seriously, and he hates doing more than what is necessary, so of course, he thought he wouldn’t be too put upon to obey the orders of the infamous skirt-chasing, good-for-nothing Gautier heir.

“Stop complaining.” His friend Fabrice Bertin, also part of the battalion for the same amount of time as him, levels him with an annoyed look. “We’re all alive and well.”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t lose at least twenty years of your lifespan with all the shit he’s pulled,” Richard growls, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Obeying the orders isn’t hard; they’re knights, vassals who do the bidding of their lord. Obeying the orders while knowing full well that’s not going to end prettily calls upon his hardened determination to never waver.

“Next time he’s all yours, I’m not carrying his sorry ass back to camp if he wants to get injured or die so badly.”

Fabrice rolls his eyes and shoves his shoulder, clearly not as bothered as Richard is, which is kind of unfair and unrealistic because Lord Gautier has caused them so much grief ever since they’ve actively joined the war after the Millenium Festival of 1185. Richard thought that, as a noble heir with such a mighty weapon as the Lance of Ruin, his lord would value his life a little bit more instead of throwing himself into danger, like he knows someone will save him one way or another. Or, he doesn’t expect anything at all and is just that stupid.

“Please don’t be so rude towards our lord, people are going to think you’ll betray us,” Fabrice sighs.

Well, Richard might actually do that and defect to Adrestia if he starts getting gray hair at only twenty-nine years old.

***

When Richard has nothing to do in-between missions or training exercises, he walks around the monastery. There is always a cat or a dog to pet to kill time, or some people to spy on to obtain juicy gossip and entertain his dull life that only consists of fighting, drinking, and more fighting. He doesn’t have many friends in the army, not for lack of trying but he just doesn’t know how to strike up a conversation and… keep going.

This is about to change though, to his dismay, as the two knights hiding behind a big tree in the gardens are loudly whispering and wildly looking around, pointing to something at the tables. Richard slows his steps, curious and more bored than he thought he’d be.

“I told you he’d accept!”

“When has he not?”

“I clearly remember that one time he locked himself in the training grounds until morning and left Lord Gautier waiting for him.”

Richard nearly trips over his own feet, his head swivelling around so fast that he almost breaks his neck. It draws the attention of the knights, who turn their heads in his direction to stare at him. By doing so Richard has now a clear view of who they are spying on and—he’s not that surprised to see Lord Gautier with Lord Fraldarius, actually.

“Aren’t you guys afraid of Lord Fraldarius hunting you down if he has wind of your spying?” he blurts out without thinking.

The two knights share a look, communicating whatever they can with their eyes. Richard doesn’t give a crap if they get caught, but if his own lord is involved in gossip with Lord Fraldarius, then he needs to know immediately because that would be the most interesting thing he’ll hear all week.

“You… are a Gautier knight,” the girl says, frowning at his collar that sports a small Gautier coat of arms stitched on the fabric.

“And you guys must be Fraldarius soldiers,” Richard deduces by the teal of their clothes.

However, before they can continue the introductions, they hear chairs rattling and an angry shout that can be only Lord Fraldarius’s.

“I’m done. Come find me when you’ve stopped being an idiot.”

Lord Fraldarius turns on his heels and leaves the gardens, as Lord Gautier follows him.

“Come on Felix, I already apologized. It’s not like I do it on purpose! I’ll be more careful next time…”

They are too far away for them to hear any more, but Richard has a good idea of what this is about. He glances at the table they’ve left, still full of biscuits, two cups of tea with one empty and the other half-finished. Well, someone will have to clean that up and that’s certainly not Richard.

“They’ve been arguing about the last battle and what they should have done to avoid unnecessary injuries,” the man supplies with a small smile. “Lord Gautier seems to care a lot about Lord Fraldarius.”

“They’re childhood friends,” Richard answers with a shrug. “And here I thought it would be interesting gossip…”

“Oh, but that’s the second time today Lord Gautier tried to talk to our lord,” the girl retorts. “They always seem to be together, don’t you think?”

Richard shrugs again.

***

Sparring with Fabrice becomes increasingly frustrating because the guy has gotten faster and easily dodges every hard swing of Richard’s lance. Someone wielding an axe shouldn’t be allowed to be so light on his feet.

“You’re putting too much weight forward.”

Both Richard and Fabrice abruptly stop what they’re doing, nevermind accidentally stabbing each other when they lower their weapons, to stare at the girl judging their spar. Richard raises an eyebrow.

“You again.”

It’s the girl from the Fraldarius soldiers, from a few days ago. She still has that stern look on her round face that makes her look really older than she probably is. Richard is sure if she stopped frowning so much, people wouldn’t run away so fast from her. She has black hair cut in a bob, just above the shoulders and curling inward. She’s rather small, only arriving at Richard’s shoulders, but he’s learned not to judge on appearances, especially someone who is actively fighting in their army.

“Are you a foot soldier or a cavalryman?” she asks, gesturing to them without a care in the world.

“Cavalryman,” Richard replies. “Most of us Gautier knights are.”

“What’s your name?” Fabrice interrupts with a smile, ever the diplomat.

The girl seems to need only one look at Fabrice to decide she prefers him over Richard because her eyes lose their hard edge and wow, Richard feels so appreciated.

“Violette Moreau. I work for House Fraldarius.” She then turns to Richard. “I was saying you put too much weight forward, keep your legs steady and that should help you land more hits. And before you ask, I also use a lance in combat.”

Richard has met this Violette twice and he already feels annoyed deep in his bones.

“Do you need something or are you just here to lecture me on my skills?”

Violette rolls her eyes while Fabrice elbows him in the side.

“We should keep an eye on each other during battle,” she says. “I know our battalions don’t always fight alongside each other, but when we do, we should make sure our lords don’t do something too reckless.”

Richard doesn’t know if he should feel grateful there’s someone else who shares his opinion.

“They can take care of themselves,” Fabrice points out, putting the hand not holding his axe on his hip. “And we can’t be on the lookout for every one of their moves.”

“Well, that’s why I enlist your help,” Violette says. “I’m getting tired of seeing Lord Fraldarius yell at us in frustration whenever Lord Gautier covers for him.”

There is nothing Fabrice can retort to this, and while Richard still feels conflicted about the whole sharing the same opinion as a girl who probably should still be in school, he jumps at the opportunity.

“Deal. Lord Gautier has the nasty of habit of pretending he’s immortal, so we’re also getting something out of this.”

Violette laughs, loudly.

***

Defending the monastery is easier when they have clear directions, but also when Prince Dimitri is here to be a one-man army decimating his enemies before they know he’s reached them. Richard has seen the horrors of the battlefield enough times to be desensitised, or at least let his brain wander somewhere that is not the macabre sight of bodies littering the ground, but he’s still caught off guard when he sees his prince in action. Five years of hiding and survival, driven by vengeance, would do that, he supposes.

They finish the battle without a hitch; some people sustained non-lethal injuries and are resting wherever they can, and the healers must be quite confused if not relieved by the prospect of not spending two days straight mending cuts or keeping someone alive.

Richard and the rest of the battalion head for the stables, tired but satisfied and at ease, for once. Fabrice nudges his arm.

“I know you were busy reaching those ballistas so you didn’t see, but Lord Gautier behaved today,” he whispers, glancing around probably to make sure nobody is listening in. “You should have seen the way everyone looked at him at the end of the battle, we were all so surprised that he wasn’t bleeding!”

“We shouldn’t even be able to joke about it,” Richard grumbles.

“I know, that’s why I’m a bit hysterical about it.”

Fabrice is someone who is usually level-headed and composed, never straying far from the path of knighthood, but Richard knows that he conceals a lot of mischief underneath all that principled front he displays. Between the two of them, the biggest gossip is undoubtedly Fabrice.

They tend to their horses for a while, reveling in the peaceful atmosphere that always follows post-battle. Then, Lord Gautier saunters in, leading his black mare to her box to take care of her. He insists on doing it himself since he apparently wants to have the most beautiful steed to head into battle, so everybody just lets him do whatever he wishes.

“Excellent job everyone!” he praises enthusiastically, as if they didn’t just witness imperial troops being torn apart by their own prince. “I’m glad you’re all safe.”

“We’re glad you’re safe, Lord Gautier,” Richard mutters, then yelps when Fabrice stomps on his foot.

However, Lord Gautier laughs boisterously, waving a hand around, not at all taking offense to this jab.

“Get some rest after this, you all deserved it. I, for one, am glad I can sleep tonight in a nice bed with charming company.”

The rule within this battalion is to keep quiet whenever Lord Gautier brings up his unsavory habits, at least until he’s walked away. Richard is pretty sure their liege is doing this on purpose to fuel the rumor mill for some goddamn reason, but that’s not his place to call him out on it—Lady Galatea is loud enough for all of them.

***

Two days later, in the dining hall eating fish cooked with too many spices, Richard is rudely interrupted during his meal by Violette slamming her tray on the table next to him, also startling Fabrice mid-bite.

“What do you want?” Richard groans.

“Look,” Violette hisses, jerking her chin towards the back of the room.

He glances at where she’s pointing at, then looks back at her.

“Lord Gautier and Lord Fraldarius are eating together. So what?”

“Am I the only one who’s not blind?” Violette whines almost childishly.

“If you are suggesting what I think you are, please stop,” Fabrice sputters, running a hand through his unruly brown hair. “Not only is it unappropriate, but it’s also not our business.”

“What? What am I missing?”

Richard attempts another peek at the two nobles, but he’s too far away to hear what they’re talking about and he only has view of Lord Gautier’s face. He’s smiling brightly, unable to stop speaking as he seemingly carries a conversation on his own, though he does sometimes pause and nods. Lord Fraldarius hasn’t left the table yet so their squabble from a few weeks ago must have been settled, or he’s about to get up and leave any time soon.

“They’re childhood friends,” Richard repeats a previous argument.

“I’ve worked for House Fraldarius for two years now, and I’ve never seen Lord Fraldarius so comfortable around someone,” Violette tells them in a conspiratorial tone.

“They’re childhood friends, miss Violette.”

“Lord Gautier is friendly with everyone,” Fabrice adds helpfully.

“There’s something we have to protect! Aymon agrees with me!”

Richard guesses Aymon is the black-haired man who was also spying on them the other day.

“How old are you, eleven?”

“I’m twenty, thank you very much!”

Fabrice makes a pained noise, while Richard heavily sighs. He did see this coming.

“You’re still a fucking child.”

Violette growls, stabbing her fish very threateningly, and Richard thinks that maybe he doesn’t deserve to be roped into this mess more than he intended—and that all started because he was bored and wanted to hear gossip.

***

The problem is that now, he can’t unsee it.

Working for House Gautier comes with the privilege of being associated with House Fraldarius. That wasn’t always the case, according to history, but the past years and the war against the Empire have made it clear that Lord Gautier values his friendship with Lord Fraldarius a lot; the five years during which Prince Dimitri was presumed dead, the armies of both territories would go on missions together, after Margrave Gautier and Duke Fraldarius exchanged information. Richard is familiar with House Fraldarius’s fighting style, if not with their lords.

He also knows that Lord Gautier isn’t fond of training (or rather, excessive training), so he can’t hide his surprise when he sees him with a training lance in hand, grinning at Lord Fraldarius who, as usual, looks about to murder someone. Fabrice wants to watch, though, and Richard doesn’t deny he’s a bit curious.

It comes as less of a surprise when Lord Gautier gets his ass handed to him, because Richard has learned early on that people from Fraldarius like being stealthy, quick and sneaky—all soldiers don’t fight this way, but Lord Fraldarius sure follows that trend. Lord Gautier didn’t stand a chance, with his heavy hits and defensive stance that seem to hold no more secrets for the other man.

“Do you think Lord Gautier is losing on purpose?” Fabrice whispers, a hand covering his mouth.

“I don’t think so. I wouldn’t last two seconds against Lord Fraldarius.” Richard shrugs.

It keeps happening; after dinner, Richard sees them heading to the training grounds, even when their men are inviting them to drink in town. Despite all the whining and complaining, Lord Gautier never refuses a spar, as if he enjoys getting beaten or flung around. His pout easily transforms into a blinding smile when he trails after his childhood friend (not that Richard is paying clear attention to his face, not really), and they immediately get to work not to waste precious time improving their technique. Lord Fraldarius looks the happiest when he has a sword in hand, eyes glinting with drive and face bright with anticipation.

If they’re not training together, sometimes they are just sitting in the gardens or near the pond to talk. Lord Gautier does most of the talking, but there is not doubt Lord Fraldarius is sporting a smile of his own, relaxed in a way that he never shows in front of his troops. Even when people are surrounding them, they always seem to be in a world nobody else has access to. Arms casually brushing, sitting close together, leaning their faces close to whisper something. It’s a bit… nice to see, maybe, but mostly it’s embarrassing, because Richard feels he’s intruding on something that he shouldn’t witness, oozing familiarity and serenity born of years of trust, so he always quickly leaves before he starts feeling even weirder.

Richard doesn’t mean to follow them, he just happens to stumble upon their private meetings because apparently the Goddess has decided he will invest his entire time to collecting evidence of the strong bond between Lord Gautier and Lord Fraldarius. That doesn’t mean he believes they are a thing, since he can hardly imagine their fickle skirt-chasing lord settling down with anyone, but the more he looks, the more he realizes that Lord Gautier’s entire posture has rid itself of excessive pressure and that if he spends time with Lord Fraldarius, he has few opportunities left to go around picking up girls. It’s all hypothetical, of course, as Richard doesn’t keep his eyes glued to their every move, but perhaps there is some truth in their assumption.

And, well, at least Lord Fraldarius knows how much trouble Lord Gautier is.

***

Richard is going to lose his mind.

Not only are they boiling and getting cooked by the heat of the Valley of Torment and walking on the ground that is more lava than rubble, he has to listen to Lord Gautier’s complaining about being too hot when everyone is too hot. And they’re saving water in case something bad happens, as if they haven’t made sure their little expedition goes unnoticed.

“Shut up,” Lord Fraldarius growls, probably just as fed up with Lord Gautier’s voice as everyone else. “If you keep thinking it’s too hot, then you’ll feel it even more, idiot.”

“Actual advice from you, Felix? I’m touched.”

Richard wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and immediately regrets it when he remembers he’s wearing gauntlets and they fucking burn, Goddess fucking damn it.

“It’s my last advice to you, before I leave you here to rot.”

“You wouldn’t do that, you’d miss my presence that brings light to your life!”

“If you have enough energy to say nonsense, then you’re fine.”

Why did Richard decide to walk at the front? He isn’t even a high-ranking soldier in the battalion, he could have just stayed in the back rows of the battalion for his own peace of mind. Nobody is faring well enough to give a damn about formation, even Byleth seems to be focused on where her feet are carrying her while Sir Gilbert pretends he isn’t melting on the spot. Fabrice hasn’t said a word since they’ve entered the Valley, and Richard would have thought he got left behind if it weren’t for his hand gripping his arm from time to time for support.

“Are you seriously keeping your jacket? I can see smoke coming off your head, Felix, aren’t you hot?”

“Of course I’m hot, we’re surrounded by fucking lava!”

Richard tries very, very hard to invent telepathy by staring at the back of Lord Gautier’s head to tell him to keep his lips sealed, but unfortunately, he’s only a soldier wielding a lance with barely any affinity with magic.

“Not as hot as me!”

If Lord Gautier dies today at the hands of Lord Fraldarius, he probably deserved it.

The battle, though. Knights are trained to fight in all types of weather, but that doesn’t mean they’re good at it—it takes a huge toll on their body and their mind to so much as stay upright, so swinging around a weapon sounds like a tremendous effort. It’s regretful to see that House Rowe is the one who stands in their way, but at least they’re not better prepared than them in these conditions.

Richard didn’t bring his horse to avoid having another live being to give water to, so now he’s fighting alongside other foot soldiers, including Violette and Aymon, the latter holding a sword. The cavalrymen are trying to clear a path for them to finish off the enemies, which means that Lord Gautier is up there killing his opponents in one fell swoop with the atrocity that is the Lance of Ruin. Richard tries not to think about being impaled by the teeth of the lance and focuses on his own fight.

“You think you can shoot down that damn mage over the lava river?” he asks Aymon, who has a bow strapped to his back.

He nods sharply, and immediately switches weapons. Richard has been trying to dodge the thunderbolts but it’s getting increasingly frustrating to do so with all the swinging and the running around. He also doesn’t want to tempt fate and let the mage unleash a stronger spell to scatter their formation.

Violette is light on her feet, showing that despite her young age she knows what she’s doing and that she’s been training just as seriously as they have all been. Richard is impressed, but he isn’t going to tell her that.

“You take right, I take left?” Richard grins at her, and she huffs but doesn’t protest.

Their movements are sluggish at worst, and clumsy at best, but they still manage to make quick work of their enemies. Aymon has resorted to exclusively shooting arrows while Richard and Violette twirl their lances. The enemy forces are all over the place, probably panicked at seeing their numbers decreasing at rapid pace, so Richard thinks it safe to scan his surroundings to make sure no bad surprise will spring on him.

The surprise does stay away from him, but his eyes widen and his mouth is already forming words, but his warning comes too late.

“Lord Fraldarius, behind you!”

Lord Fraldarius whirls around, a flurry of blue and white, but he’s not fast enough to dodge the arrow that mercilessly gets buried in his stomach. Violette is cursing somewhere on his side and she rushes to her lord, while Richard and Aymon are left dealing with the remaining soldiers that won’t back down, even when they hear the arrival of Duke Fraldarius’s troops.

When Richard strikes down his last opponent, he hears the frantic galloping of a familiar black mare and he catches a glimpse of Lord Gautier cutting his way through people to get to Lord Fraldarius’s side, who stubbornly tries to stay standing despite Violette’s protests. Richard is too far away to know exactly what is going on, but he sees how agitated Lord Gautier is, hovering near his friend and wildly gesturing to his horse, most likely attempting to convince him to get on it. There is a lot of blood for a single injury, so maybe all this fussing is warranted if Lord Fraldarius is hiding further injuries. Richard surveys his surroundings one last time, then when he’s sure everything is fine, he pats Aymon on the back and he joins his liege, just in time to see him hauling Lord Fraldarius on his horse without a care in the world. Unsurprisingly, there is a lot of yelling involved.

“Put me down, Sylvain! The battle isn’t over yet!”

“Lord Rodrigue has arrived, things will be fine. You’re bleeding, do you want me to leave you here and die?”

“I’ve had worse in the past!”

“You’re already on the horse, Felix, stop arguing with me.”

Lord Gautier dumps Lord Fraldarius on his mare, mounts it and rolls his eyes when he sees Richard staring.

“You guys see what I have to put up with every day?” Lord Gautier chuckles, though his usual cheer is absent.

“I’m pretty sure we’re dealing with you in the same way,” Richard informs him flatly.

“Don’t talk like this to your liege,” Violette hisses.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m used to Richard’s encouraging words.” Lord Gautier sounds a little more genuine. “I’ll leave the rest to you while I go look for Mercedes. Duke Fraldarius is taking care of the Gray Lion as we speak, go assist him if everything’s cleared on this side.”

He adjusts Lord Fraldarius in his lap, carefully not jostling him too much, almost cradling him with the way he’s holding onto his waist, while the swordsman seems to struggle not to cling to him for better purchase, all of this under Richard’s, Violette’s and Aymon’s eyes.

“Come on Felix, I’m not letting you fall but get a good grip on me, yeah?”

“Shut up,” Lord Fraldarius grumbles, but he does slump against Lord Gautier and one of his arm finds its way behind Lord Gautier’s back, his fingers curling around his waist.

Lord Gautier then kicks into his horse side and off he goes.

Richard is tired.

“Can I quit,” he says to no one in particular.

Aymon chokes on his snickering. “Can you do it after the war? You’re a good fighter.”

“Well, if these two men that are supposed to be our future leaders don’t kill me first, I hope the war will.”

“Stop saying nonsense and get to work,” Violette sighs.

***

Fabrice howls with laughter.

Richard thinks that he wouldn’t be laughing so much if he were there to witness the whole scene at the Valley of Torment. Some friend he is.

“Come on, don’t tell me you believe what Violette is saying,” Fabrice wheezes. “You seemed to find the idea preposterous.”

“I still do,” Richard grumbles, putting his face in his hands. “But I have to admit they’re driving me crazy. Their behaviors are driving me crazy. Look!”

The dining hall is full of soldiers coming from Fraldarius territory. Duke Fraldarius was seen with Byleth not long ago to discuss some plans or to deliver information, and it’s no secret that he doesn’t get along with his son. Lord Fraldarius has been avoiding communal places so naturally, Lord Gautier played the errand boy for him. Richard, once again, is definitely not eavesdropping, but he overheard his liege saying that Lord Fraldarius will starve if nobody takes care of him. He looked a bit too happy to do it.

Right now, they’re sitting side by side in the far corner of the hall, across Lady Galatea who probably has gone through their banter and their nonsense her whole life. They’re animatedly talking about one thing or another while Lord Fraldarius is shoveling food in his mouth, most likely to get out of here as soon as possible, shrugging off Lord Gautier’s hand that keeps falling on his shoulder to nudge him into the conversation. Richard bets his first born that anyone else would have had their arm chopped off.

Lord Gautier leans close, invading Lord Fraldarius’s space like he has all the rights to do so to whisper something, and that must have been one time too many because Lord Fraldarius puts his palm on his friend’s whole face to push him away, cheeks red and uncaring of the muffled protest tumbling out of Lord Gautier’s mouth. Lady Galatea sighs, and so does Richard.

“See? They’re acting like… like teenagers.”

“I think it’s nice to see them so carefree outside of battle,” Fabrice says, thoughtfully. “The war made us all grow up too fast, so we shouldn’t expect them to be so mature, even if they’re our lieges.”

Richard frowns. He glances back at Lord Gautier, his eternal grin plastered on his face as he dodges Lord Fraldarius’s batting. There is something easy in their interaction, not shackled by expectation or image. Faerghan nobility has always valued appearances and the prestige of their names, but war doesn’t care about these titles—they have to prove themselves and how helpful they can be during this conflict. Gautier and Fraldarius are the last resisting forces against the Empire, and they can’t afford to fail. Maybe everyone is fighting like it’s their last battle, though a lot of knights, the heirs of these Houses included, must fight like it’s the first to many others.

“Relaxing and being ourselves are our only respite,” Fabrice adds with a smile.

Richard relents. “Alright. If they’re still teenagers deep down, then there’s nothing else we can do to put them out of their misery.”

“You’re not that old yourself.”

“I’m a grown adult, thank you very much.”

Fabrice pats him on the back, chuckling to himself as Richard glances one last time at the two heirs, now comfortably pressed against each other, shoulder to shoulder.

***

“You… want to know what I’ll do after the war?”

“Yeah, I realized I haven’t been the most communicative with my troops.”

Lord Gautier is grinning from ear to ear, casually leaning against the frame of the wall where Richard is tending to his horse. It’s early in the morning, barely moments after the sun has risen, and Richard doesn’t remember a time his liege has gotten up so readily during those five years following the start of the war.

“I don’t know, we have to win the war first,” he answers slowly.

“Don’t be such a pessimist, just imagine victory is already ours and tell me about your plans!”

It’s a weird question, but a legitimate one. He’s brought up the topic with Fabrice once or twice, only to kill time, without any real intent to act on what they’ve shared.

“I guess I’ll keep being a knight, offer my services for the Crown and help where I’m needed. I don’t have much of an idea, really.”

Lord Gautier hums thoughtfully, looking at the sky and a finger tapping against his chin.

“I guess that’s what most knights will do,” he says. “The continent won’t be at peace right after we defeat the Empire.”

“That would be extremely naive of people who think otherwise,” Richard comments. “Why are you asking me this? Do you have something in mind?”

Lord Gautier shrugs, his smile fading a little but still firmly in place.

“Not a lot of people have told me they’re going to leave everything behind and start a family, or go back to their loved ones. I thought that they’d rejoice at the prospect of quitting and living peacefully.”

Richard has thought about this, of course. He has thought about living in a comfortable house, doing paperwork and going wherever he wanted to fulfill whatever whim of the day he feels. But he’s been raised as a knight, has shaped his entire life around the concept of knighthood, and after spending so much time swinging a lance and riding in terrible Faerghus weather, he doesn’t know how else he can live.

“Maybe those people can’t picture what this kind of life will be,” Richard suggests. “I can’t, for my part. If I had someone to return to or if I had a dream completely different from what I have now, maybe I’d quit to pursue it.”

He thinks about his conversation Fabrice, about expectations and staying true to themselves, and smiles at Lord Gautier.

“Some people want to do their own thing, others like being swept by the flow of life, even if that’s not what they truly want. For now I’m just content continuing what I’m doing.” He pauses, studying Lord Gautier’s face that betrays none of his thoughts. “Does that answer your question?”

Lord Gautier, Richard has learned in the past few months, is someone who thinks a lot. He likes displaying a happy front and the whole battalion pretends they’re sick of his exuberant behavior, but Richard knows they all appreciate it, himself included. Lord Gautier thinks a lot but doesn’t share how his mind works with his soldiers, so this little heart-to-heart is most likely the closest he’s allowing himself to lay bare his thoughts.

“Thanks for your honesty, Richard,” Lord Gautier says warmly, unsticking himself from the wall to clap him on the shoulder. “I hope you’ll keep working for me in the long run.”

“Well, I just said I don’t know what else I’d be doing if I quit being a knight,” Richard snorts.

And Lord Gautier laughs at that, waving with his hand held above his head even as he’s walking away.

***

On their way to Gronder Field, riding miserably in uncertain lands with morale at varying degrees, Violette slides next to him despite the fact her battalion is all the way in the back.

“I don’t like this,” she announces, face scrunched up and unhappy. “Lord Fraldarius is on edge. I think he fought with Duke Fraldarius and His Highness again.”

“That’s not unusual, why are you telling me that?”

“That means as a soldier of his battalion, I’ll have to work harder to watch over him, since he’s going to be more agitated.”

Richard knows he’s mocked her for her age, but to be quite honest, Violette is packed with more maturity and wisdom than most.

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Richard sighs, and Violette smiles gratefully at him.

When they set up camp a little after sundown, it’s Fabrice who tugs on his arm to point at Lord Gautier hovering near Lord Fraldarius. They are setting up their own tents, and even though Lord Fraldarius has his back turned to Lord Gautier, it’s evident he’s listening; his movements are brisk but his posture isn’t so stiff he’s rejecting the idea of conversation. They speak quietly, away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears. The upcoming battle isn’t a nice one and everyone is a bundle of nerves waiting to explode.

However, Lord Fraldarius is slowly turning his head, facing Lord Gautier without lashing out at him, which shouldn’t feel as extraordinary as it does. Lord Gautier wraps an arm around his shoulders, and still lives. They are still murmuring, tents forgotten.

Richard averts his eyes. He’s seen enough of their familiarity and the intimacy of their exchange to know that it’s not his place to judge. There are some things he’s not aware of, some events he’s not privy to, so he can’t understand the extent of their relationship—and if they’re happy and satisfied with what they have, then he’s glad for them.

***

The Battle at Gronder is a mitigated disaster. The Prince of Faerghus has come back to his senses at the cost of many of their soldiers’ lives, including Duke Fraldarius.

Richard is too exhausted by the fighting and too relieved at seeing his companions alive to truly process what this entails. The journey back to the monastery is silent and oppressive, and it’s only when they’ve reached the gates that people really start talking. Byleth and the generals of their army don’t call for a war council right away, to no one’s surprise. They all spend a day recuperating and trying to put some order in their personal feelings.

“This sucks,” Richard mumbles, rolling a piece of bread between his fingers, sitting on the stairs facing the pond.

“I feel so bad for Lord Fraldarius,” Aymon sniffles. “We should have been faster.”

“The girl was already one step ahead of us,” Violette grumbles, but her voice is wavering. “I wish I knew what I could say.”

“Sometimes, words mean nothing.”

Fabrice is looking at the darkening sky, deep in thought. Richard has always quietly admired his friend’s resolve and strength in times like these, but maybe he only saw what he wanted to, since Fabrice is clearly not holding it together as well as he’s thought.

Nobody in the Gautier battalion comments on the absence of their liege for several consecutive days at meal times or in the stables. The most they see of him is a blur of red and black running from one point to another, giving a tight smile to whoever looking at him or a wave to people he’s closer to. Richard doesn’t have the heart to ask him if he’s alright, because the answer is obvious when Lord Fraldarius still hasn’t left the training grounds. There is no proof either of them is sleeping.

This doesn’t last long, though. A week passes, and Byleth organizes a strategy meeting which Lord Gautier and Lord Fraldarius attend to. While Lord Gautier offers a tired smile to his troops, Lord Fraldarius remains silent. He looks like death has nearly claimed him, eyes heavy with loss, body stiff and guarded. Lord Gautier sticks close to him and guides him towards the meeting room, although Lord Fraldarius draws away from the touch like he’s been burned. They don’t quite look at each other either, there are fleeting glances that everybody seems to notice but doesn’t acknowledge. It’s uncomfortable to watch, and Richard feels bad for being glad he doesn’t need to step into the room with them.

Fabrice taps him on the shoulder and they go wait in the knights’ hall. Violette and Aymon are probably training or having a meeting of their own with the other Fraldarius soldiers; Richard is struck by the thought that he now seeks their company, when all this started with something as trivial as gossip. They were bound to see each other around, given their affiliations with their Houses, but it’s… pleasing to think of them as friends.

“Goddess, let’s hope this war ends soon,” Richard deeply sighs, and Fabrice nods his assent.

When Lord Gautier announces they plan on taking back Fhirdiad, expression a bit softer than the last time they saw him, everyone’s shoulders sag with visible relief, and Richard wants to believe that maybe the end isn’t that far away.

***

Lord Fraldarius doesn’t act any differently—he’s still harsh, all sharp edges and not mincing his words, but the tension in his body has lessened somewhat, or so Violette reports. Richard knows that Lord Gautier isn’t glued to his side anymore, so maybe that’s a factor to take into account, though the most likely reason for this appeased Lord Fraldarius must be Prince Dimitri’s look that’s not haunted anymore.

Richard still keeps a close eye on Lord Gautier, because his tendencies to get injured haven’t decreased one bit and the elation at the prospect of saving their people is a bit too palpable in the air. Richard usually isn’t the one to remain clear-headed, but it’s never too late to start acting responsibly, he supposes.

They rush through the city and storm the castle as fast as possible, not wishing to inflict more pain on these people who have suffered at the hands of Cornelia for so long. Richard’s lance has never felt both so heavy and so light at the same time, driven by adrenaline alone as he follows orders without even thinking, trusting his commander to make the right decision at such a critical time. Fabrice is a constant at his side and watches his back; Lord Gautier is laser-focused, speaking clearly and swinging the Lance of Ruin for deathly blows. The assaults are effective, even when these magical defense mechanisms slow their advance.

They win. The roar of the battle comes to a halt when Prince Dimitri takes Cornelia’s life, and the entire army shouts with joy.

“We took our Kingdom back!”

“We should celebrate!”

And celebrate they do. Richard is sore and can’t feel his legs anymore after riding and fighting for such a prolonged time, but his face is stuck in a grin and he pats the back of everyone he comes across, ruffles Violette’s hair even when she yelps, and puts his elbow on Fabrice’s shoulder as he peers at the food they found in the castle, for a hastily made buffet to the delight of many.

Glasses of alcohol are served and eventually whole bottles are passed around, and Richard is too busy eating and drinking to notice that most of their generals are also enjoying themselves and loosening up. He suspects Violette possesses a sixth sense to spot him in crowds as she pushes her way through to stand next to him and aggressively points towards the balcony.

“They went outside,” she says in what should be a whisper, but comes out very loud.

Richard glances at the double doors giving on the balcony, then shakes his head.

“Leave them be, Violette,” he replies not unkindly. “Today’s a day of celebration. They probably have things to say to each other, or something.”

Violette bristles and she glares at him, folding her arms and not looking as intimidating as she wants to with the flush on her face.

“I’m just hoping they’ll do… something,” she mutters. “I want them to be happy.”

And Richard is reminded yet again of how young Violette is compared to him, but only a couple years younger than the people they’re talking about.

“You care for your liege, huh?” he asks gently.

“Of course I do, I’m supposed to fight and protect House Fraldarius. That’s how I’ve decided to live.”

“Then let them decide what they want for themselves at their own pace.”

They’ve reconquered Fhirdiad and they’ve had a taste of what victory feels like. Their minds are muddled with this euphoria and they’re only thinking about how good it is to have control over something in this war, especially after what happened at Gronder Field. It’s a natural reaction to what they’ve been through—so rushing into happiness and desires isn’t on anyone’s radar, especially not on Lord Gautier’s and Lord Fraldarius’s. There is still a shadow cast on their future and the outcome of this campaign. That’s what Richard thinks, anyway, in this party where it’s easy to indulge in small pleasures.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. They always will have each other.”

Violette frowns, though her features relax and she nods. Richard then shoos her away to get a drink, but she insists on having one herself, so he ends up making sure she doesn’t pass out in the middle of the hall all night, to Fabrice and Aymon’s amusement.

***

They save Claude von Riegan, and they get to enjoy a few days in Derdriu as they prepare for their next march. They don’t get to sightsee but they still enjoy the maritime air and the architecture of the city so different from what they’ve seen in Faerghus and everywhere else.

When they’re about to depart, Lord Gautier laments not being able to stay longer.

“It’d be nice to come back after the war,” he says, and smiles at the army, but he quickly turns his head towards Lord Fraldarius walking next to him.

“That’s assuming we win,” Lord Fraldarius grumbles.

“I feel confident in our victory, actually. We’ve come so far, we have to keep fighting and things will go smoothly. We need to have faith in ourselves, stuff like that, you know how it goes.”

Lord Fraldarius eyes him not with annoyance or skepticism, but like he’s assessing him to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words. Lord Gautier keeps smiling, and when the silence stretches for a bit too long, he reaches for Lord Fraldarius’s unprotected shoulder and squeezes, face a bit more open and sincere.

“Besides, Derdriu will make a good vacation spot, don’t you think?”

Richard shouldn’t even be expecting the old reactions, now, because Lord Fraldarius doesn’t snap at Lord Gautier, as he simply shrugs, voice calm and leveled.

“I guess. I’m not surprised you’d think about slacking off.”

“You know me so well, running away from my responsibilities is like a sports to me.”

“Don’t joke about that.”

Lord Gautier snickers, hand still on Lord Fraldarius’s shoulder, and they don’t say another word.

Richard remembers a conversation about pursuing dreams and knowing what to do, about following a pattern or carving your own path. He’s getting too old if he’s pondering on all those philosophical questions when it’s not even about himself.

***

Taking Fort Merceus is brutal.

Penetrating the city of Enbarr is worse, with Hubert von Vestra acting as a master of strategy and showing no mercy.

The battle at the castle of Enbarr is a painful endeavor that will go down in history not only for being the event that marks the dawn of the unification of Fódlan, but also for its gruesomeness leaving behind countless bodies and curtains stained with blood.

Richard can’t quite believe it. He stands with Fabrice in front of the throne room, guarding it with their lives while their future king seizes victory, and when the doors slam open, the two leading figures of their army emerging from behind, it feels like a dream. But it’s real, it’s the present they’re living in and the one they’re building.

“The Empire is no more,” His Highness exclaims. “Emperor Edelgard has been defeated.”

Richard closes his eyes and breathes in, as the roars or joy and celebration reach his ears.

***

There is still much to discuss and many details to take care of in Enbarr, but they all eventually need to go home in Faerghus to establish political plans and other noble affairs Richard isn’t privy to. Lord Gautier addresses his troops the morning of their march back to Gautier territory, bright as ever though Richard now recognizes how strained his smile can be.

“It’s time we go home. I know we just got out of a war, but I suspect we won’t be able to rest for a while. When has Faerghus or other parts of the continent ever been free of unrest?”

Some knights laugh nervously at the reminder of the situation Faerghus has been in ever since the death of King Lambert, and Richard has to admit he doesn’t remember a period of total peace. Living at the border with Sreng means the battles won't stop unless they agree on a treaty that will involve negotiations some higher-ups probably aren't ready for yet.

“However, if you wish to leave this life of struggle and battle behind, I won't stop you. You all deserve a future that's not carved in blood.”

He's giving them a choice even though he perfectly knows that a lot of them doesn't have anything else besides their weapon and his orders.

“Well, you've been informed of your freedom to choose to live in the woods among birds and fish instead of waking up every morning to go through drills that will make you sweat. I for one would love to sleep all day.”

This elicits a more genuine and carefree laugh, and Richard smiles.

The entire army moves back to Faerghus. Those who want to go back to their hometown leave one by one, Ashe Ubert returns to Gaspard, Lady Galatea takes her battalion to her territory, and Prince Dimitri along with Annette Dominic and Mercedes von Martritz, as well as Dedue Molinaro, take the path to Fhirdiad. Richard expects them to go too, but apparently Lord Fraldarius has matters to settle first in his own estate before joining His Highness for the coronation preparations.

However, Richard doesn’t raise questions at all when Lord Gautier doesn't lead them further North.

The Fraldarius Castle is big enough to accommodate them all, and the stables aren't of the quality of the Gautier's but they serve their purpose. Lord Fraldarius tells them they're free to do as they please so long they don't destroy property or do anything stupid, which means they should make themselves scarce.

It’s quiet. Winning a war and discussing the next political moves should have brought more chaos than this airy mood, but Richard isn’t complaining. As knights, they’re not at the heart of these meetings and they have no business knowing what is decided behind closed doors. He’s content just training and basking in the rays of sunshine they have at midday, and enjoying this new routine.

Violette is excited to show them around the castle, despite the fact she probably knows it’s not their first time setting foot here, but Richard lets her have her fun. They’re currently sitting at a table in the gardens, where she insists it’s fine for them to be, sipping tea and admiring the flowers that seem to have been carefully taken care of.

“Duke Fraldarius loved the gardens,” Violette informs them with a nod.

Fabrice makes small talk and Aymon is eager to tell the history of the estate, and Richard looks around, spotting two figures striding towards another part of the castle. Lord Gautier is talking earnestly with grand gestures, while Lord Fraldarius has his head slightly inclined but he’s without a doubt focused on the words he’s hearing. They make such a natural sight—walking side by side, looking at each other and listening to every word like they hold an universal truth in them. Lord Fraldarius turns his head and points to something, and Lord Gautier follows the finger with his eyes before he quickly drops his gaze and shifts his attention to the longer ponytail that’s bouncing with every step Lord Fraldarius makes. He casually brushes the strands of hair with his fingers and his mouth is moving, which must have been an unwanted comment because Lord Fraldarius startles and inches away, but Lord Gautier’s laughter resounds loudly.

Richard squints, as the two of them are drawing further away, but he catches the glimpse of a colorful leather band that he’s sure he never saw during the war. It’s a deep red that matches well with Lord Fraldarius’s dark hair, like it’s the only color he will allow on his person that’s not the customary Faerghus blue. Richard doesn’t believe he understands who Lord Fraldarius really is, nor does he pretend he fully understands his own liege, but at that moment, surrounded by familiar walls and an idyllic landscape, he thinks that it’s not strange at all to see them roaming Castle Fraldarius like they belong there.

***

Some people left for Gautier territory in advance and most likely won’t be present for the coronation ceremony, but it was their choice. Lord Gautier hasn’t expressed the desire to visit his parents despite the current situation, and the days pass until it is time to go back to Fhirdiad. Richard thinks that his liege has made a decision that goes beyond simple pettiness by not going home yet.

“Do you have dreams, Lord Gautier?”

They’re only a handful of Gautier knights left in Fraldarius now, so Richard isn’t too worried about potential eavesdropping and leaking information. The stables are big enough that their conversation won’t carry to other people’s ears, and judging by Lord Gautier’s easy smile, he knows it. There is something like approval in his eyes.

“Everyone has dreams,” he answers. “I remember you said you don’t know what else you’ll do if you weren’t a knight, but surely you look forward to something in life.”

“That’s another way to put things into perspective, I guess.”

Lord Gautier nods, crossing his arms over his chest, and waits. Spending time in Fraldarius without the heavy weight of immediate responsibility abated the guarded look he’s had on his face for months.

“I feel you have something else to say,” he points out, raising an eyebrow.

Richard grins. “I’m glad to keep working for you, milord. Your safety on the battlefield has always been my priority and sometimes you really made it difficult to keep you in one piece.”

Lord Gautier laughs at this, dismissing the issue with a wave of his hand like he didn’t cause major anxiety for his troops for years, but Richard doesn’t hold it against him anymore.

“I’ve followed your orders and I’ll continue to do so. If you decide that your dreams aren’t in Gautier territory and you need an escort, or someone to keep your secrets… well, let’s say you’ve gained some trustworthy soldiers in this army.”

This. This catches Lord Gautier off guard, painting surprise on his features as his mouth falls slightly open, though he quickly composes himself and puts his hands on his hips.

“What are you saying, exactly?” he asks, almost demands.

“I think you can follow your own dreams, and that you’ve already started.” Richard shakes his head. “I apologize if I’m being too presumptuous. I simply wanted to say that whatever you decide, there will be someone supporting you. As a knight, it’s not my place to tell you what you should be doing, but you are also deserving of happiness, Lord Gautier.” He pauses to take a breath, and smiles. “You’re comfortable here.”

Richard has no desire to push further. Lord Gautier is perfectly capable of choosing a path that will suit him without the meddling of one of his knights. Richard can only try to convey how much he believes in him.

Lord Gautier remains silent for a while, processing everything. He stares at a point past Richard’s head, but it’s not a vacant look like one would expect—it’s full of wonders, considering the meaning behind each word. Then the corner of his lips lifts up as he looks at Richard again.

“Thanks for your support, Richard. The world needs more people like you.”

Richard shrugs, but he’s still smiling. “I’m happy to help, milord.”

***

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is crowned King of Fódlan, acclaimed by his people and counseled by his most trusted friends. Change is slowly brought into the continent, and it will be years before peace truly settles.

Some knights who fought in the war get promoted, others do quit to lead a life free of battle. Richard is one of the former, leading a small force of his own in Gautier territory to chase away bandits and to keep foreign invasions at bay.

Duke Felix Hugo Fraldarius is renown for his swordsmanship that makes every warrior in Fódlan tremble with fear, but his sharp tongue is another one of his weapons that nobles in court don’t wish to be subjected to. And Lord Sylvain Jose Gautier, son of Margrave Gautier, appears at his side more often than not, travels from one territory to another and stops by the capital, but never stays long in Gautier. When he does spend time in his estate, accompanied by Duke Fraldarius, it’s to travel even further North, to Sreng, for talks that Margrave Gautier can’t forbid. The negotiations will take even longer than peace to be agreed upon, but Lord Gautier is relentless in this battle that’s his to fight.

Neither Duke Fraldarius nor Lord Gautier married, despite the pressure their councils put on them. When Richard sees Duke Fraldarius in Fhirdiad or at the Gautier estate, hair tied in a ponytail with a red leather band, he smiles to himself and can’t imagine any other ending.

[proserpineisback]

TROS

If the only problem with TROS was the death of Ben and the rest of the movie was a masterpiece, then maybe I could forgive them. But the serious problem here is that the ENTIRE FILM is an absurdity on its own. You kinda feel like gathering all the facts across the trilogy and distribute them proportionally in each of the films so it all feels cohesive. But that couldn´t be done because Lucasfilm obviously didn´t map this project as a trilogy which it´s absolutely embarrassing. It wouldn´t have costed much for the board writers to sit for a week and write ONE STORY and divide them in three acts just like every writer does when making a book or an independent film or a short film or a documentary, Jesus there are so many people out there writing way better stuff than this with almost nothing of a budget. Having to use different directors is no excuse. The team behind the Mandalorian proves that, they obviously work as a team and so far they seem to treat the Star Wars legacy with respect taking old facts and carefully placing them where they´re needed.

Now, what pisses me off the most about this film is definitely the irrationality of Rey´s arc. The Rey who stood in front of Palpatine and told him “You want me to hate you but I won´t, not even you” is the same Rey who spent THE WHOLE MOVIE attacking Kylo over and over again out of nothing. I´ve spent this whole year wondering why they were fighting in the rain, only to find out that it was for nothing other than Rey´s sudden rage. Wondering why was Kylo flying his TIE towards her and why was she backflipping over it, only to find out it was for nothing too, were they trying to kill each other? Just after Kylo told her that he didn´t want to kill her? Did the conversations in TLJ were all for nothing and they´re back to zero? It´s like all JJ wanted was to retcon TLJ and have cool shots, which they are. The fights are very well choreographed and performed, and they´re visually beautiful and majestically scored, but that doesn´t take away the fact that plot-wise they´re absolutely pointless. When Kylo starts to talk about her past, she again attacks him in a way that for someone who believes in the good side and the Jedi and the light and repulses everything that has to do with the dark side, seems pretty infuriated and aggressive. If she was pissed off about everything the First Order did during the Allegiance comics, it would have made sense for her to mention it at least, because as it was presented it all seems pretty illogical and only for show. Again, they make her look as a person who it´s not enough informed about anything and can´t use her words to stop being one. She didn´t even think in taking advantage of Kylo´s second offering of joining him to defeat Palpatine, then if she didn´t want the throne and was so worried about Kylo becoming emperor, she just could have TALKED and tried to bring him back to the light. But that didn´t even crossed her mind, she just wanted him dead until she actually killed him and didn´t want him dead anymore just because she felt Leia dying, and I can´t believe Chris Terrio has repeated the same also pointless fight between Batman and Superman where Batman remembers his mother and suddenly decides to not kill Superman after beating him badly. I absolutely hated that movie and I was hoping he wouldn´t bring any of it into this. Saddly, I was wrong.

You can´t just link Rey to Palpatine out of nothing. You either connect her to him from the very beginning throwing hints of it or you don´t link her with anyone from the past at all. And you can´t just bring Palpatine with absolutely no excuse, it makes it obvious no one planned to have him behind it all from the start. The concept of Rey Nobody settled by Rian Johnson was a good idea so all kids around the world could relate to her, giving an important message that you don´t need to come from something important to be someone. But if the idea here was to prove that someone who comes from the dark side can choose to be light side, then DEVELOP it through the entire trilogy.

Bringing new supporting characters in the last two films has resulted in a crowded mess when everyone gets to say a line with no purpose, wasting the film´s time. When they presented Rey, Kylo, Finn and Poe as the main characters in TFA, it was understood that the story would be told through their eyes. Then why the hell bring new characters to do the job that they could do. It just makes Finn and Poe look like a pair of extras with nothing relevant to do, just being a burden to Rey when she clearly could have done everything on her own. It would have be them two going to the core worlds and convincing the people to join the cause, so they can truly be heroes in this story. Instead of having everyone joining at last minute because they think Lando is dope and decided that somehow they´re not scared anymore even now that a massive imperial fleet has appeared out of nowhere. And why having so many ships to fight the final battle when they´re gonna waste it by not showing too much of it. I mean it´s called Star Wars for a reason, but somehow they´ve wasted more time having Rey and Kylo fight than investing in the action on air. If all those fights between the two of them had place in TLJ and the talking force bonds had place in TROS, then maybe it would make a bit more sense and the story would seem to have a proportional pace in each film and a better structure. Instead, this movie seems like rushing scramble of events awkwardly mixed with all the trivia they could find from the Star Wars lore while spitting in your face absurd facts about the characters you have known for 5 years and having to believe each of them.

I wouldn´t have problems with Hux being the spy if he was suspect from the beginning. You can´t make a character to be a cold blood mass murderer and devoted to the First Order to the point of fanaticism and then turn him into a softy who reveals he is the spy and traitor of the very thing he loved, in a stupidly parodic way, and who can also be gotten rid off quite easily. And all without any character development whatsoever. I mean, fanfics make a better job with Hux as a villain.

Why create the knights of Ren if you´re gonna have them like silent dogs and get them easily killed when they´re also force users? I mean, I´m not saying that Ben is not powerful enough to finish them but apparently in the comics HE AND LUKE have fought them before and they made it out alive. It would have been a lot more interesting to have the KOR since TFA and make one of them suspect so he can be the one to bring Palpatine back to life in TROS. It would have been better to have Ben and Rey fighting them in TLJ throne room instead of the shitty praetorian guards that are killed in one second in episode III.

Why presenting new characters in Resistance Reborn if we´re not going to see them not even on the background during the resistance base scenes? It´s such a lucrative and deceitful game to have books, comics, etc. and not include them in the films in any way. I can picture them saying to the writers “Yeah, do whatever you want”.

And finally, why create such a good concept like “dyad in the force” if you´re gonna have just one of them fighting against Palpatine while the other one is in a hole. It obviously should have been them BOTH fighting Palpatine and defeating him since when they´re together they have the balance of the force. I mean, I thought that was what Star Wars was all about. It should have been all the generations of Jedi helping them BOTH since Ben Solo had already gone back to the light. Why create such a compelling complex character if they were going to make him have the exact same fate that Darth Vader had. It´s so frustrating the lack of imagination for a conclusion, it makes you cringe. The ultimate message here is that the Skywalker family was cursed and they all deserved to die.

I applaud the astonishly good performances of the actors, the realism they brought makes it all more believable and painful so we don´t forget this film actually happened. The entire movie pains me so much because I´ve grown to love Star Wars and I´ve had deep love for each of the films, yes even the prequels. I´ve defended every movie from the haters and I never thought it would come the day that I would say the saga has been completely destroyed.

[meganshinsou-tm]

Shared Walls. (m)

↳ chapter one: the vent

❧ genre: pro-hero shouto, coworkers to lovers, happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: none

[multi-chap masterlist] [next chapter]

"Well fuck,” you hissed when all your groceries found their way to the floor. "Cheap fucking bags, why does this place hate me so much!"

It hadn’t been long since you moved to Japan from America, it was a big leap for a person such as yourself. You were somewhat introverted and didn't like to tread too far from what was familiar to you, so why were you now countries away?

Well - it was a shitty and scary situation you were in, having to completely uproot your life over a psycho ex-boyfriend. 

A few months before moving, you witnessed something you weren't supposed to at the hands of the man you spent the last 3 years with. Apparently in those three years this man didn't find the time to tell you he was part of one of Americas biggest villain groups. He used your love for him to make you feel guilty about it yourself, drilling it into your head that if you were to even think about going to the police he would take you with him 'dead or alive'.

You had completely cut off your family for this guy and now you were left with no one, no one to run to, no home to go to, just him. 

Little did he know, you had your own secrets, like a massive amount of money saved up in a bank from your father passing away and even though you were cut off from your family they couldn't do a thing about cutting off the money that was yours legally. Your ex had no idea about this and also didn't know you were secretly planning to escape from his clutches, far away to a place he'd never even think to find you. Far away to a place full of heroes that could possibly protect you. And you took that chance a week ago, able to slip out in the middle of the night while he was 'doing a job' and ran for your life, running towards a new life. 

So yeah, that how you ended up in Japan.

You were able to find a decent apartment located close to a police station, so you felt safe. Only being here for a few days you had yet to met any of the building tenants. Whoever lived next to you was either really quiet or wasn't home that often. It bummed you out to be honest. 

You had this vision of becoming close friends with whoever shared a wall with you at least, but you weren't going to take that step in knocking on their door and introducing yourself, that was way out of your comfort zone. If they came to you, that was another story!

After staring at the strangers door, you finally picked up all the groceries that fell from your bags and proceeded to enter your new home. 

"I really need to look for a job," you scolded yourself, emptying the bags onto the counter and putting the items up.

You couldn't live off of that saved up money for the rest of your life, it was time for you to grow up and put yourself out there. Like it or not, Japan was going to make an adult out of you! 

After changing into some more comfortable clothes you went back to the kitchen to grab the box of Pocky you bought but growled in frustration as you weren't able to locate them, "I know I bought some, didn't I?"

Shrugging your shoulders you opted for some chips and grabbed your laptop and sat on the couch.

For a few minutes you sat there and thought, trying to figure out what kind of job would suit you and your skills. Like anyone else you were good with computers, familiar with different business programs and could type well. 

A desk job. Simple and easy.

Typing in your job search multiple options appeared, apparently this place was popping with employment opportunities but one of the tabs caught your eye. 'Endeavor Hero Agency: Seeking Helper'.

"Hero agency huh? Sounds ... safe. I wonder if I need a quirk though."

You clicked on the link and read over the duties and requirements. The job seemed simple, normal clerical duties such a paper and computer work, scheduling appearances for the various heroes, getting them whatever they needed like running their costumes back and forth for repairs or replacements or getting them food, keeping the place clean, just pretty much a helping hand. And to top if off, having a quirk wasn't a requirement.

You smiled and for once had a glimmer of hope for this new country, so you submitted your resume and continued to look and apply for other jobs, crossing your fingers you'd get a call back from any of them. After a few more minutes of that and surfing the web you decided to take a bath. 

Closing your laptop, you stripped your clothes on the walk to the bathroom and talked to yourself, "Maybe I should get a dog since I can't seem to make friends!"

"Huh?"

As Shouto walked up the stairs to his apartment he spotted a box of Pocky on the corner of one of the steps. He picked it up and shrugged his shoulders, unlocked his door and walked into his home. The hero sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he dropped the treat onto his counter before proceeding towards his bathroom and stripped down as he turned on his tub. Looking in the mirror he could see a few new bruises he acquired from a villain that day.

"Sorry bastard, caught me off guard," he mumbled to himself and lowered down into the tub.

His head laid on the cold stone, eyes fluttering shut and body stretching out the length of the tub as much as it could, his knees poking out of the warm water.

Finally he sighed, tired muscles relaxing and soaking in the heat.

"Nobody does it better, makes me feel sad for the rest. Nobody does it half as good as you, baby, you're the best."

Shouto's eyes opened, neck craning to looked around the room for the soft voice that was singing and filling the air.

"I wasn't lookin' but somehow you found me, it tried to hide from your love light. But like heaven above me, the spy who loved me is keepin' all my secrets safe tonight."

The voice kept singing, it sounded so close but he couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. His two-toned eyes then looked up and saw a vent high on the wall behind the tub, garnering more interest, Shouto listened closer and could hear water moving as well.

The hero wondered why he heard water before realizing that the layouts of the apartments must be perfectly mirrored, meaning his and his neighbors bathrooms and bedrooms were right on the other side of the wall. Todoroki was aware someone finally moved into the apartment next to him but with his work schedule, he had yet to met the new tenant.

It wasn't like he was trying to avoid the person, he truly was just never home during the day unless he was off and the past week he had been working more hours than usual since his father was out of town, leaving him to take over the agency until his return. From the sound of the voice, obviously there was a girl on the other side of the wall taking a bath at the same time as him, it made him blush the tiniest bit but it passed quickly. He was more enamored by her voice that was escaping into his bathroom. It was so soft and sweet, making him curious as to what the girl looked like and who she was.

Most people would probably be annoyed with this situation but he wasn't, Todoroki actually enjoyed it and wouldn't be mad if it kept happening. Leaning back into the position he was in before, he closed his eyes again and smiled as the voice lulled him.

"The way that you hold me, whenever you hold me, there's some kind of magic inside you that keeps me from runnin' but just keep it comin'. How'd you learn to do the things you do?"

Morning came and with it a loud, obnoxious ringing.

"Why," you groaned from under your covers, hand searching the bed for the phone.

"Hello?" your groggy voice answered.

"Good morning, is this (Y/N L/N)," a stoic and monotone voice asked, the voice was extremely attractive and made your thoughts a little hazy.

You confirmed what they asked with little to no interest but immediately shot up into a seated position as they continued. 

"Oh uh – of course, yes! Yes sir I'm free today, what time? That sounds great, thank you very much, I'll see you then!"

You hung up the phone and starred at it, a smile plastered on your face. 

The Endeavor Agency had just contacted you and asked for an interview that day at one in the afternoon, making you beyond psyched. Head turning, you looked around your room and at the clock, it was only eleven. 

"I should probably see how far away this place is!" 

Pulling up the address and the maps app, your eyes widened and your body flew from the bed.

"Fuck me, this place is almost thirty minutes away, not counting the time it's gonna take me to catch a train in this godforsaken city and I'm not even dressed yet!"

Wasting no more time, you bolted from bed and ran to the bathroom to violently brush your teeth as you brushed your hair and put on the smallest amount of makeup. Meanwhile your mind raced, trying to figure out what to wear.

Searching through the few clothes you had, you finally found something and rushed to get dressed. After a few minutes you looked in the mirror and smiled, wearing a thin white long-sleeved button up blouse that showed a decent amount of cleavage tucked into a navy blue high-waisted skirt and some matching flats, the only jewelry you wore was a single necklace with a jeweled pendant.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you smiled wide at yourself and hummed.

"Man, I'm cute as fuck! This Todoroki dude is bound to hire me!"

[thiswasinevitableid]

#7? NSFW? Sternclay? Pretty please 🙇‍♀️

7: It’s our one year anniversary fuck how does one celebrate an anniversary of rivalry and one-sided devotion?

Joseph Stern, alias Agent M, has accomplished what no other member of the National Hero Control Task Force has been able to: he has captured a member of the elusive Pine Guard.

The guard has been causing chaos for the better part of two years, bringing important projects such as oil pipeline development, ICE facilities, and start-up construction to catastrophic halts. 

Stern isn’t invested in those projects, but he believes in the greater good, in law and order. 

One member of the guard in particular has caught and held his attention since he first laid eyes on him. Bigfoot, or so he’s called, has eluded most of their security tapes in a way his compatriots haven’t, and has been reported as more than once saving civilians and bystanders from danger.

He also once stayed behind to ensure Stern stayed conscious after sustaining a head injury. Stern has never been able to get an explanation as to why. But after that day, puzzling out Bigfoot’s motives, his past, his personality has become Sterns true goal. 

Convenient, then, that the man is currently strapped, standing up, to a holding table in his base.

“I knew word of those files would get your attention.”  He stands toe to toe with Bigfoot, who growls but says nothing.

“There’s no call for that. Besides, even if you’d managed to infiltrate here without alerting me, there wouldn’t have been anything to steal. All the information on the identity of the pine guard members is up here. I haven’t shared it with my superiors yet.” He taps his head.

“So, you’re bluffing.”

“Not at all. Barclay.” 

Dark brown eyes go wide with concern. 

“Okay, so you got me. That doesn’t mean you got the rest of us.”

Stern sighs, counts off on his fingers, “Mothman is Indrid Cold, Jackalope is Aubrey Little, Cactus Cat is Dani Coolice, Champ is Duck Newton, Hodag is Ned Chicane, Jersey Devil is Arlo Thacker, and Echidna is Madeline Cobb.”

Barclay sags in his restraints. 

“What do I have to do to keep them safe?”

“Nothing. You’re eco-terrorists, Barclay. Even if I wanted to I can’t keep the information I gained secret from my superiors.”

“You could. Like, literally. Just don’t tell them.”

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry.” The apology doesn’t come out as hollow as he needs it to, and Barclay arches an eyebrow.

“Ahem, anyway, you won’t be needing this anymore.” He lifts off Barclays blue mask (one that compliments his coppery beard), not surprised at all by the face underneath yet delighted at seeing it. He’s thought it handsome since the first time he laid eyes on it

The spell is broken by Barclay biting his hand. He yelps, dropping the mask on the floor. 

“That wasn’t necessary.”

“Neither was unmasking me. Jesus, you never struck me as some gloaty douche  but obviously I was wrong.”

That stings, and so Stern turns on his heel with a flourish. 

“Careful, or I won’t share dinner with you.”

“Oh no, no gruel or power bars or whatever you joyless fucks eat for me--do you smell saffron?”

“Yes.” Stern wheels out the small cart, covered platter glistening atop it and a vase that’s too small for the bouquet sitting in it trying valiantly not to tip over. “I made us saffron rice with lamb, and red wine dark chocolate cupcakes.” He removes the cover, feeling rather smug.

“Shit that looks good.” Barclay whispers, licking his lips. Then he looks up, “Wait, made us?”

Oh lord, the confusion on Barclay’s face sends pangs through his chest. What he wouldn’t give to kiss it away. 

“I, well, it has been exactly a year since we met. And I was trying to think of ways to mark the date, and I know you like cooking and food and so this seemed like a good gift.”

“...Did you make us a fucking anniversary dinner?”

“Technically? Yes.”

“Alright, Mister special agent, how am I supposed to eat it when I’m strapped to a fucking table?”

“I could, um, feed it to you? I shut off the cameras in this room so that I could do so without embarrassing either of us.”

“This what you do every Friday, strap random guys down and feed them? Sounds pretty kinky.” Barclay smirks. 

“I enjoy being helpful, something a so-called ‘hero’ should understand. And I didn’t choose a random guy; I strapped you, specifically, down.”

Barclay fixes him with an amused look before shrugging as much as his bonds allow, “Fine, you clearly worked hard on dinner. May as well make the most of it.”

Stern slices a chunk of lamb, offers it to Barclay who parts his lips without hesitation.

“Holy shit, that’s good.” The blissed out look on his face is one of Sterns favorite views in the world. He hates having to pretend like he hasn’t seen it before. 

As he cuts another piece Barclay asks, “You make the bouquet too?”

“Yes. I took some classes on flower language and  arranging a few years back, and I like doing it.”

Another bite, and this Barclay sighs happily before cocking his head, “You just not gonna eat?”

“Guests eat first.”

“I’m a hostage, agent, not a guest.”

“My point stands.”

“Y’know, if you just undid my hands, we could eat at the same time. Make it a real anniversary dinner instead of some repressed man in black feeding me my last meal as a free man.”

“I’m not just any man in black, I’m your main rival. You said so yourself, once. And the answer is no to the unlocking.”

“Well, there goes that option.” 

Stern sees him tug the strings of his woven bracelet a moment too late. He braces for an explosion or a weapon flying at him. 

Instead, reality warps for a nanosecond, and then Barclay isn’t in front of him anymore. Staring down at him is what he can only describe as a Bigfoot. And honest to god, fur-covered, claw-handed Bigfoot.

A Bigfoot that is no longer restrained. 

“You’re, you’re really-”

“Yep.” Barclay lunges, but instead of grabbing Stern he reaches for the cutlery, tossing it up and over the rooms computer center and far out of range.

Then he grabs Stern by the back of his neck, slamming him against the restraint table. Stern retaliates, jumping up and landing his feet against Barclay’s chest. There’s an “oof” but nothing else. Stern tries to catch him with his stunner, but Barclay avoids him easily, twisting his hands behind his back and letting go as he launches Stern into the window. Mercifully it's made of bullet-proof, triple strength glass, so he doesn’t plummet fifty stories to his death.

He’s simply pinned by his nemesis, the city lights thousands of eyes watching his defeat.

“Are you, ow, all monsters?”

“Nope, just some of us. And you’ve put me in a real bad situation, agent.” Barclay growls in his ear, “first by blabbing that you, and only you really did know our secret identities, and then leaving me no choice but to take off my disguise.”

“I, I’m sorry your poor problem solving skills caused you to reveal that Bigfoot is not merely a codenameOW.” Barclays claws pierce his suit, “Go ahead and kill me. I won’t give up any information to the Pine Guard. I’m prepared to die in the service of my agency.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” He lies

“Nothing you’d miss?”

“No.” 

A rumbling purr in his ear this time, “Not even me?”

“N-no, what, where on earth would you get that idea?”

“Flowers gave you away. Red carnations are admiration, daffodils mean unrequited love, and orange roses are fascination.” 

“That’s a coincidence.” He grits his teeth to prevent the truth spilling out. 

“Not for a guy who admitted he knew their meanings. And you know what else?” He clips Stern’s hands behind his back in cuffs designed to hold the super-strength of Duck Newton, making escape impossible for Sterns normal-human abilities “you put some wild grasses in their to fill the whole thing out.”

“So?”

“Grass means submission. You put all your feelings for me in a vase and gave me plenty of time to take them in, probably thinking it a clever in-joke to yourself. But that one? I’m betting that one was accidental, subconscious. You want to submit. Whether that’s in general or to me I have no clue.”

“Just you.” He may as well confess it. One less secret to carry to his grave.

A low, dangerous chuckle fills the room as he’s spun away from the window and shoved to his knees.

“That what you want, agent?” Barclay replaces the bracelet, becoming human before his eyes, “Want to be a good boy for me?”

He nods, cheeks hot and gaze locked on the floor until Barclay yanks it up by his hair, tearing strands loose from their carefully gelled hold. 

“Aw now, no need for that.” Barclay traces the path of the blush with his thumb, voice mockingly sweet, “know your overlords like everyone to be emotionless, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting a good fuck, even if half the city can probably see it from here.”

“Oh lord.” He moans, the image sending his thoughts, his dignity, his blood, south.

Another laugh, his head yanked sideways to take in the view, “Damn, you like that too, huh? Like the idea of everyone watching while one of America’s finest begs me to fuck his face. Your superiors finding out their best agent is so needy he’d do anything for me to touch him?”

The tears pricking his eyes are from want, not shame, when he chokes out, “yes.”

Barclay turns his head forward, then up. 

“Please, Barclay,  please.”

“Please fuck you?”

“Yes.” He whimpers.

“Nope. Sorry, agent, I don’t sleep with the enemy, even if he gives me the worlds bluest puppy dog eyes. Not to mention, threatening the people I love is the opposite of being a good boy. But since it’s our anniversary, I think you do owe me a gift.” His fingers touch the edge of Sterns mask, “let’s see who’s been tracking me for a year.”

“Wait, don’t-” The mask tears off. The two men stare at each other, frozen, one in surprise and the other in fear.

“Joseph?” 

“Hello.” He wants to look away, to see literally anything other than the betrayal on Barclay’s face.

“I, uh, I imagine this will lose me the title of ‘favorite customer’ at the Coffee Lodge.”

“You, you’ve been spying on us. You’ve been at the Lodge almost every fucking day since June, and you’re Agent fucking M, I, I can’t-” Barclay paces, fingers running through his hair, “Did you start coming just to stake us out?”

“Yes. I tracked your movements, Barclay. I’m ashamed to say I accessed the medical records of anyone in the target area who had top surgery to narrow down my suspects, and eventually identified you as Bigfoot. Once I started getting coffee at the lodge everyday it was easy to piece together who else was on the team.”

“Yeah, and flirting with me probably helped a lot.”

“Uhhhhhhhhm.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t try to pretend that wasn’t part of your investigation.”

“It isn’t. Wasn’t.”  He lowers his head meekly. 

Barclay stops moving, sighs heavily, “Is there anywhere in this damn place that’s smaller and doesn’t have cameras?”

“My bedroom only has one. Just take down the smoke detector on the right hand side as soon as we go in.”

Barclay easily lifts him over his shoulder and trudges down the hall and into the bedroom. Rips the “smoke detector” from the wall, sparks crackling when he does. Then he deposits Stern on the bed and turns his desk chair to face it. 

“We’ve got about forty-five minutes before my ride gets here. Talk.” Barclay sits down, crosses his arms while Stern attempts to sit up straight.”

“Wait, how can you know that.”

A mild smile, “You really think I’d walk into such an obvious trap without an escape plan?”

“No.” He mutters, dejected, “what do you want me to say, Barclay?”

“The truth, genius.”

“You seem to know most of it already.”

“Yeah, but one big piece is missing; why the hell didn’t you write down our identities somewhere the higher ups could find them if something happened to you? Shit, why not just sic a bunch of agents on us when we were all at the lodge making, or drinking, coffee?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Because the lodge was my haven too, alright?” Stern snaps, “I felt understood there, safer than I did in any secret base. And every time Dani laughed at something Aubrey did, or Duck told some corny joke, or you smiled at me, I understood more and more why you all do what you do. I felt my commitment to my work waning. I had to do something to reiterate my belief in it. This was that something.”

Barclay is silent for a moment, taking Stern in bit by bit.

“You want to leave the NHCTF, don’t you?” He leans forward in quiet shock. 

Stern nods, defeated, “I’ve been questioning our methods for some time, but always thought that what we did was in the service of keeping people safe. I’m still not fully convinced the Pine Guard is going about it the best way, but from what I’ve seen, you do a far better job of it than we do.”

“So join us. Help us figure out how to be even better.” Barclay reaches for him, takes his hand.

“You’d ask me to just like that?”

“Most of us like you, Joseph. We’re not super into Agent M, but it’s not like we haven’t noticed you’re not chasing us down as much as you used to. Also, I’d be a really crappy superhero if I didn’t at least try to recruit the smartest man I know to our side.”

Stern blushes more than necessary at the compliment. 

“Okay. I’m in. I’m ready to try being a different kind of good guy.”

“Welcome to the Pine Guard.” Barclay presses the secret hinges on the cuffs, and they drop to the floor. 

A fit of giggles in Sterns throat pours out into the space between them, “Jesus, I didn’t think betraying the government would feel so liberating.”

“Always knew you were a good guy, deep down.”

Another blush has him cursing his capillaries. 

“Heh, you do like it when I call you good.”

“Yes. Though as you observed, I have a weakness for humiliation as well.”

“Y’know, we’ve got a little bit of time still.” Barclay leans back, and Stern perks up when his hands hit his belt.

“And it is our anniversary.” Stern sinks to the floor, covers a few inches on his knees to rests his head on Barclays thigh.

“Shit, you really are a needy little thing.” Barclay shifts and wiggles awkwardly in order to get his close low enough to give Stern the access he needs. Stern nuzzles his inner thigh, skates his hands along muscular legs, making a mental note to discover what they feel like naked and tensing in time with their owners moans. 

“You’re rather, uhm, slick already. Is this where you tell me you got into heroics because you get off on fighting?”

“Nope, just on manhandling you. And you’re in no position to comment, agent.” The growl he puts into that last word has Stern melting forward. Which is helpful, in that Barclay shoves him down the rest of the way. He licks and sucks eagerly at him, moaning messily when Barclay tilts his hips up, pressing and rutting against him. 

“Like I, fuck, said babe, you’ve got no room to feel smuggAH--shit that felt good--amazed I didn’t walk in on you in the lodge bathroom with some dudes dick down your throat while another one fucked that tight ass.”

Stern would like to point out that a) he would never do such a thing in a business he respected and b) there’s only been one dick he’s wanted anywhere near him in months. But he doesn’t dare pull away. Instead he whimpers, shakes his head and takes all of Barclay’s cock into his mouth.

“Hnnnshit, maybe I got it wrong, maybe you, fuck, were one smile away from falling to you knees and begging me to fuck you over the counter.” 

Stern nods emphatically, pawing at any exposed skin he can find on Barclay stomach and hips,  and the larger man laughs.

“Fuck, much as I wanna hold you down and come all over that handsome face, got something else I wanna do even more.” He lets go of Sterns head, nudges him back so he can join him on the floor. 

“Wha-ohshit’ He gasps when Barclay rips the front of his pants off, wrapping one large hand around his cock. But when Stern tries to thrust up into the warm, tight fist, Barclay pins his hips down with one hand. There’s such easy strength in the movements that Stern tilts his head back to rest on the spotless bedspread, because baring his throat feels like the only suitable response. 

Teeth just sharper than they ought to be sink into the base of his neck, but even as he arches and thrashes in response, he can’t get any stimulation on his cock. Coarse coppery hair tickles his skin as Barclay laughs, “Cute how you think that’s enough begging to get what you want.”

“Barclay, please, I, I’ve wanted this for months, it’s all I want, I will do anything.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Poor special agent, so desperate.” Barclay’s tone is cruel as he drags his hand up in one long, slow stroke. Stern eagerly awaits a downstroke that doesn’t come. 

“Well? Gimme one good reason to indulge my pathetic new plaything.”

“I, I, I’ll be good, so good for you, let you do whatever you want, fuck.” The barest movement of Barclays hand and he sobs, “please, I just want to be good, I just want you to use me, god, please just tell me what you want.” 

“Admit you’re a needy fucker who likes the fact the other cameras in this building can probably hear him begging me to-”

“I am, I need you so badly, I need this, I want you so much, I need youOHyes, yes.” He groans happily as Barclay switches to rapid strokes and drags one of Sterns hands between his legs. He keeps his fingers outside for the time being, focuses on circling his thumb and dragging the other digits in tight patterns.

“C’mon handsome, jack me off, show me how much you like your reward oh fuck, fuck, Joseph, that’s it babe, fuck that’s good.” His head drops to mouth at Stern’s neck with a moan as he grinds against Sterns palm, “shit, shoulda asked you out last week like I was planning to, coulda been doing this every night, yeah, ohyeah.” As he comes his grip on Sterns cock tightens, and even as he rides out his orgasm he’s growling, “come on agent, lemme see you ruin those fancy clothes.”

Stern comes with what sounds, to his ears, like a pathetic cry. Yet as soon as he spills onto his stomach and Barclays hand, the larger man kisses his chest, whispering sweetly, “You’re so good, did so good for me baby, you’re amazing.”

With unsure fingers, he brushes a strand of loose hair from Barclays cheek. Barclay looks up, smiling so tenderly Stern worries he’s dreaming. Then Barclay sits up, cupping his chin and drawing him into a gentle kiss, sighing happily when their lips meet. 

“Is it selfish to be happy that you joining the team means I get to see you everyday?”

“Not in the least. Though you see me most days at the coffee shop anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I get to do this” another kiss, somehow twice as tender as the first, “when I do.”

Stern curls into his arms as he continues, “guess we oughta get you a codename now.”

“You know, I’ve actually given that some thought. Given that only some of you drew your names from cryptids or, um, I suppose your true forms, I think there’s room for a codename that reflects my history with secretive government agencies while staying on theme?”

“I think so too.” Barclay smiles expectantly. 

“In that case,” Stern grins back, future brightening ahead of him for the first time in years, “just call me Roswell.”

[tfw-no-tennis]

hxh RESUME

back at it again w/the hxh, heres my recap of the last few eps 

ok so i totally forgot to recap that one ep at the end of the hunter exam arc lets see what i remember from like 3 wks ago lollll

i thiiiiink i left off in the middle of ep 21 lol. i really dont remember much tbh so im gonna skim the ep to refresh

exposition time! its so wild that if you lose ur hunter card That It like u cant get another or retake the exam hgabjdfuhasjf Ls 

also the fact that you can sell it is rlly interesting 

leorio & kurapika backing up gon as he confronts illumi again :’) good lil family 

illumi u fool. gon is a shounen protag. he can do anything he sets his mind to

the fact that gon thanks illumi for telling him where killua is....hes literally THAT polite like...what a perfect boy 

hisoka just fuckgin stepping out of the shadows....ok bitch 

the fact that gon fucked up illumis arm that bad with one hand....boi is STRONK 

AUGH AUGH AUGHHHH HISOKA IS SO CREEPY AUGHHH I HATE THIS BIIIITCH 

ok but like is illumi implying that hisoka is a fr p*do bc uhhhhh thats so nasty oh lord. pls stay away from gon, and killua, and like everyone as a matter of fact 

EWWWWWWWWWW I HATE HISOKA HES SO NASTY. PLS STOP MAKING P*RNO FACES IN RELATION TO 12 YR OLD BOYS. 

no but rlly what IS hisoka gonna do now. im assuming he’ll show up p soon (tho probs not in the zoldyc arc like i thought bc its shorter than i thought) 

ok the fact that they have the internet is hilariously wild to me for some reason....it just seems like this would be one of those fantasy shounen worlds with very little tech (a la one piece) but lol nope we can just google shit hvbhjdhjdfks

gon: it was fun when you beat me up for 3 hours and broke my arm! seeya dude!

i love gon he is so chill and doesnt seem to hold grudges except when it really matters (like hisoka and illumi) 

hanzo has.....ninja business cards....thats amazing hvbhsdjkujfnd

dont worry pokkle, leorio was basically carried thru the hunter exam by various people and also won by default. he still deserves his license tho

an exotic game hunter sounds pretty cool! i wonder if we’ll see pokkle again. kinda doubt it? that sounds pretty firmly non-combat based, and therefore probably pretty far from any plot lol

so gons dad is a bigshot huh.....whatever hed be a bigger deal if he didnt abandon his son tbh 

gon swinging his feet on the bench....sooo cute 

so ging could restore a bunch of ruins but he couldnt raise his son...ok

im just gonna be bitter at this guy for abandoning the most perfect boy vhbhjfbsjhdhbfsk sorry dude but being a good hunter doesnt make up for being a shit father 

gon is so precious ;_; 

WHAT WAS SATOTZ GONNA SAY TO GON???

why does it look like theyre googling things on MS paint 

ah yes, padokea, on the continent of Africa But Sideways 

idk if i talked abt it before but the world map is WILD lmao i love how its all the continents/landmasses scrambled around.....im super curious abt that weird island in the top center of the map, thats the only thing that immediately sticks out as not having a real life equivalent 

the music in this show is so charming :’) i love the main theme sm 

gon is sooo precious i literally cant get over it. and his hurry to rescue killua is so sweet....and i love how naturally charming/charismatic gon is....pretty much everyone he meets likes him, especially leorio and kurapika, who basically adopted him after knowing him for like a day, and continue to be completely taken by him

ok wtf is satotz & co talking abt......do they know something abt ging that they arent allowed to tell gon???? shouldnt gon have access to the same info now that hes a hunter? i need ANSWERS

i bet this whole thing abt the hunter exam not rlly being over is a metaphor abt the hunter exam NEVER truly ending bc youre always being tested, or st

ok the ED continues to be So Much like especially the last shot where the 4 main characters look like theyre posing for a JC Penny catalog while the singer goes FULL metal-screamo

ok ruth and i just rewatched the next two eps woohoo

i love that there are tourist busses that take people to the front gates so they can like pose for pics and stuff vhbhjafdsfkj and its like ‘ah yes here are where the local assassins live!’ thats so funny yet it makes so much sense

i love that leorio passed tf out during the bus ride. big big mood 

gon is so cute...hes like ok yes i understand that we’re not supposed to go in but i think they can make an exception for me bc im very polite. 

those 2 dudes r so ugly and so dead god bless

that bigass buster sword....sir please 

ruth and i rlly thot that the old guard guy was gonna turn out to be grandpa zoldyk or st lol

the fact that the dog managed to eat All their flesh but left some clothes....skill 

also the dog is named mike but it sounds like the guy is calling him miku hvbjdfssk

this cant be the first time some morons have been killed here likeeee 

i cant believe nobody has visited the zoldyk estate in 20 years damn they all rlly b havin no friends. depressing 

the whole gates thing is wild. also that part where gon gets the math wrong on the weight.....BIG mood kiddo 

ok the part where gons on the phone w/the butler is soooo good oh man. i love how gon just calmly dials the phone again after hes hung up on the first time and then YELLS....and leorio and kurapikas faces r so good 

also the butler guy unfortunately has a point, it isnt foolproof that gon is here Legit....but he IS let him see his tiny bf :( 

as ruth pointed out, the butler guy is reminiscent of kuro from one piece. same vibes 

maybe if leorio was jacked like he is in the manga/1999 anime he couldve opened the gate that first time around....Ls 

god i love this shows approach to Everything so far,....as ruth put it, half the time its like ‘oh wow they should do [x]/i wish theyd do [x] but ofc they wont cause its a shounen’ but then they DO do [x] and its like damn thats dope 

anyways i love how gon is increasingly approaching situations with his Plucky Shounen Protag Attitude in full swing, and he pretty much gets shot down every time. BUT his general determination to see killua bc killuas his FRIEND and hes gonna RESCUE HIM is still a good and pure motivating force 

like here, when hes climbing over the wall and hes like whatever i dont wanna have to deal w/being tested thats bullshit, i wanna see killua, my intentions are pure, im gonna try my luck with the dog....i was like ok yeah he’ll get over and like tame or defeat the dog and the guard will be suitably impressed bc nobodys ever done That before, and then gon will continue on to get killua 

but NOPE instead the guard calls him down and explains that gon Will Die if he tries that, and then the guard will die too for letting that happen. and gon is like oh shit my actions have consequences for people other than me, wow. 

and THEN the guard takes them in to meet the dog. and hot DAMN that is a scary creature. not even really a dog tbh. they did an excellent job making the dog Legit Scary and not just like, big and flashy looking....those eyes are so soulless, and the proportions are freaky 

and the guard says exactly what i was thinking - that gon would use his Country Boy Woodland Creature Skills to workaround the dog....but then the subversion - this creature is NOTHING like the woodland critters gon is probably used to dealing with. theres no way gon stood a chance here. the guard just saved him from a really unfortunate death 

i love all the Super Heavy Stuff in the servant house that seems so inconvenient vbhjdkfasjfld. also forgot to mention earlier but the guard guy being Absolutely Ripped was wild and kinda funny 

training montage! gon continues to be so cute. and i love so much how leorio and kurapika are like no, you rest, we’ll take care of this. good parents!!!!

and then!!!! they sync up and use the power of gay love to almost open the gate. but then gon uses the power of Improbable Shounen Protag Healing Speed to toss that arm sling off and help out

i feel like leorio was side-eyeing gon like w8 a sec u broke that arm like a few days ago that aint right.....

oh man i almost forgot abt that scene with the zoldyks torturing killua :( :( this poor kid he doesnt deserve that 

also mom zoldyck seems truly awful but i must say her aesthetic does fuck. the victorian-lookin outfit paired with the futuristic cyclops visor thing....excellent. also im betting this face bandages are from killua cutting her face 

this family is so fucked up hvbsjdhjfbakdfn

killua telling his mom that gon is definitely gonna make it there :’) hes got such unshakable faith in his bf thats so good.....

back w/the gang, and immediately they run into more trouble in the form of the young girl butler, whose name i dont know, but i love her....her design is SO good oh man. a non-caricature black person? who also isnt sexualized? in MY anime??????

 i love how gons approach to conflict is currently ‘let more powerful person beat me up for hours straight in hopes that they get tired or something idk bro’ like....i love him lol, is it in an effort to show how determined he is? he doesnt even try to dodge her blows or get around her....id be tryin to hop that fence lol 

oh shit the tiny zoldyk kid from earlier is spying on them....she was w/the mom so im sure thats not good

when he punches the rock part and it breaks....strong boiiii 

oh man that little flashback from when killua first came back and told her that he made a friend ;_; bruh 

i love butler girl :( she wants to let gon but knows it isnt allowed....and as soon as she starts to waver BAM here comes mom zoldyck JFC that was so sudden and jarring....im assuming butler girl isnt dead cause that would be lame and anticlimactic 

also IS THAT NEN??? NEN>>>??? NEN??? HM? NEN????????? 

im so annoying abt nen i need to make one of those ‘is this a pigeon?’ memes w/’is this nen?’ bc thats me anytime anything remotely weird happens lmao

i do think its rlly nen this time tho

anyways shit is wild, cant wait to meet the full zoldyck family 

PREDICTION CORNER: 

as i said above i doubt hisoka will show up now bc this arc is a lot shorter than i anticipated. also im doubting that illumis even gonna show up honestly 

i think we’re gonna have this OP for a while, as the part just at the end shows gon and hisoka fighting in what looks to be an arena, and ik the next arc is the heavens arena arc, which im assuming is the tournament arc....

also i have no idea what that weird building in the OP is but my guess is that its the building w/the heavens arena in it bc its tall and,,,,heaven 

i predict there wont be much fighting in this little arc bc how tf else is it so short. at this point i rlly think gon is just gonna grab killua and go lmao. im super curious abt how thats gonna go down, considering that killua is currently strung up just bc he wont apologize...so i cant imagine his family would just let him leave w/gon. i wonder if killua will fight them, or if gons determination will impress them and then theyll let killua go (doubt it)

thats basically it....we’ll see abt the next few eps holla

[atopearth]

Final Fantasy VII Remake Part 4 - The Intervention of Fate (Ch 15-18) + Overall Review

Seeing the destruction of Sector 7 alongside the sunset was really beautifully saddening. It’s devastating for Tifa and Barret to have to look over it all knowing that their actions caused this. Even if Shinra framed them for it, even if Shinra were the bad guys who killed all these people and everyone’s homes, there’s no doubt that what Tifa and Barret did ended up pushing them into doing this, and it’s hard to have to carry such a burden. On another note, I never thought I would complain about this because I loved the shipping fanservice in the beginning, but can we please calm down with the amount of times Cloud has to hold and save Tifa in some way?! Yes, I like Tifa too, but I’m not sure if there was a battle or scene where Cloud did not save Tifa/Aerith or hold their hand or something. Like yes it’s nice to see, but it’s honestly too much, I’m dying. I feel like a lot of the time it’s pushing the romance more than anything and it kills me because the original prioritised telling the story. And honestly, if you think about it, it’s kinda weird, they make it seem like Tifa and Cloud are really close friends who haven’t seen each other in a long time, but in reality they’re practically strangers in a sense because when they were children, Tifa never really thought much of him, the only time something about Cloud resonated with her was when he told her he was leaving to go become a SOLDIER and probably when he came to her rescue (fulfilling their promise) when Sephiroth slashed her. And it was only after she received letters from Cloud after he joined Shinra that she began to notice him more, so honestly, if we’re to be picky, this was supposed to be a more awkward period between Cloud and Tifa because Tifa liked and cared about him, but she didn’t know how to show it properly since Cloud always liked her but she never really cared. Whereas for Cloud, his memories are jumbled, so he’s awkward with her for a different reason lol. Anyway, I think I would have just liked more tension between their relationship? Because right now, it just feels like everyone loves Cloud because he’s cold but soft on the inside, so he’s a great cinnamon roll or whatever, but it really doesn’t show the depth to their characters and their relationships. I’m starting to think this remake is really just fanservice for old FFVII fans rather than a proper retelling. I mean, I’ll still like it, but it’s just a bit sad.

Well, Shinra Company is fancy. Tifa jumping on the lights to get the Shinra keycard was interesting but honestly tedious, I think I’ve had enough of these tbh lol. Anyway, I was going to run up the stairs in this remake, but then I realised the camera was making me feel sick so I just went back to what I did in the original; bust in the front door and go on the elevator lol. Although I have to say, I honestly enjoyed the original more where it had more of the feel where we’re busting in from the front door haha. That memorial museum was pretty, but honestly boring lol. Like, whyyyy is there so much maintenance going on?! I seriously thought they did a full on museum tour and I was like, that��s pretty cool, but no, I learnt basically nothing, sigh. Maybe that VR movie was cool to see, especially since it kinda explains that Ancients were the ones who discovered Mako energy and helped create materia, and I guess the graphics were pretty. But I think it felt like such a spoiler to show Sephiroth walking in the Shinra building, it just doesn’t really build any tension. I really only wanted to see the blood trail lol. Anyway, Hart is someone I don’t remember at all so I assume he’s a new character? Or is he that guy who you had to decipher those codes to or something? Haha. But anyway, I guess if he’s been changing the security camera feeds then does that mean Cloud and them won’t get locked up in a cell? Okay, the Shinra building was so… uneventful and boring lol. Like, I wasn’t exactly looking for a replica but I honestly thought it would be more…fun? It was legit so boring and so not memorable compared to the original. No code deciphering, no plate moving, no special treasure chests, no running past guards secretly, nothing! Literally just that Shinra training facility and other useless things like the museum and archives that don’t even have books to read! I think the most enjoyable thing was going around trashing the chairs everywhere because I didn’t even mean to move them, but Cloud running around just naturally destroys them lol. Yes, totally infiltrating “quietly”. But seriously, Shinra building is definitely a letdown right now. Scarlet’s ruthlessness was just...whatever too lol.

Sigh, I kinda really wanted to see the gym and the napping room lolll. I guess it was nice that we got to see them go through the air duct in the bathroom to spy on the President’s meeting, but stilllll. I mean, they didn’t even let me explore the women’s bathroom! C'mon! I don’t need this kind of realism in my game! I want to explore!! Maybe I’m just getting ahead of myself and it’ll be better.. Anyway, Hojo looks as creepy as the person that he is lmaoo, and being Reeve is suffering, considering he’s the only one that seems to care about the people. The idea of Hojo having all these monsters in his research lab is disturbing lol.  I found the explanation and existence of the Whisperers…unnecessary, they’re basically things that are there to stop the party from changing the predetermined fate of this world. Like, I kinda knew already with considering where they always appeared etc but ugh. Oh well, whatever. Red XIII is pretty hot. He looks older than I thought though, he looks more like what I would expect his father to look like tbh lol, I mean Bugenhagen always said Red XIII was practically a kid in terms of his species lifespan!! 

I’m sad that the Turks Theme doesn’t have that clicky sound to it that made it sound cool anymore, sigh. I’m also kindaaa disappointed that they seem to be pushing with the Turks the idea that they’re quite..nice? Like, maybe it’s just me, but despite how “cool and nice” the Turks were in the original, what I loved about them the most was their work ethic and how it’s a lot of dirty work, but it’s their job and they have a sense of pride to it.  Whereas sometimes in this remake, I kinda feel like, they question their job too much when they know what it entails? Like, I really wanted to see Rude catch us in the elevator LOL. Anyway, Sephiroth appearing near Jenova and slashing the bridge they were standing on in retaliation of Cloud attacking him was interesting…not too sure what to think about it right now because it felt rather random tbh lol. I guess we are definitely not getting the jail cell time, which is more disappointing than the boring Shinra building tbh. Not only did the cell time really give you time to bond with everyone in their cells, it also really highlighted how sudden and scary it was to see a trail of blood, and all these Shinra company men’s bodies as you slowly climb the stairs to realise what happened.

Btw, lmao at Red XIII pushing down handles, it looks so awkward because it seemed like he was struggling so bad hahahah. The Drum was an annoying place, I hated changing materia around between the two parties. Like whyyy can’t I just change the whole line of weapon and armour materia (like in the original) instead of slowly doing it one by one?! Aside from that, this was a boring place too lol. I guess the only nice thing was seeing Tifa and Aerith get along so well lol. Anyway, Jenova’s blood trail was much more pretty and fascinating than ominous tbh lol, it really gives a completely different feel to the actual blood trail in the original. It’s cool in its own regards though I guess. Okayyy, wow, I’m starting to think that this is becoming pretty ridiculous. Like it was obvious Barret won’t die because you know, these Whispers know that it’s not his fate to die here, so of course they’ll somehow save him, but now it’s just silly? Like, sure it’s not his fate to die here but was Barret such a crucial person to the “fate” that can’t be changed? Anyway, so basically everything that happened in the original is probably the “fate” that must be followed, but at the same time they’re just changing up things to make it as convenient as they want to for the story. Honestly, that segment with Barret and President Shinra was so cliche, I wanted to bang my head watching it because it was so unnecessary. I think he should have just died like in the original. Like all the mental agony of saving him or not, and then President Shinra showing how much of a crap he is was just so ugh, like was that really important? What did we expect him to be like? Did we really need to see this? Even seeing the sword pierce them was so whatever at that point because I’m starting to think the story is realllyyyyyy getting “basic”. Also, showing Wedge being here but not being able to change or do anything because “he’s not a part of fate” was just ridiculous. Like seriously, we get it, don’t these Whispers have anything better to do? I mean, I really wouldn’t say that the original timeline is the best timeline to follow for this world but okay, whatever they want.

Anyway, I’m sad that Rufus doesn’t have orange hair!! Hahaha, but that’s fine, since he still looks pretty hot. I love how he still has his dog!! Rufus was so annoying though, like seriously, I’ve had enough of bosses that just counterattack you, and you have to find the exact moment for an opening to deal damage zzzz. Otherwise, it was really cool to fight Rufus, this was starting to become the only thing I was looking forward to lol. Kinda sad you don’t actually fight Arsenal(?) that robot in the elevator anymore though. The fight took so long because I didn’t realise what I was supposed to be doing lolll. Cloud is taking lessons from Roche in getting crazy with the motorbike haha, seriously though, the motorbike and the blue car is so nostalgic. I did enjoy how alike the original, if you bothered looking (well it was more obvious in the remake) you actually see the motorbike and the car in the building haha. Not sure about Cloud throwing his sword scaring off the Shinra soldiers though, like dude, your sword could have fallen out of the building! Anyway, I knew it was coming, but I honestly hoped it didn’t, and that is…the second round of the motorbike game!!! Yes, the thing I sucked at the most in the original and in this remake as well, and what do you know, they just upped the difficulty with a boss! Not gonna lie, I legit died a few times because I had no idea how I was supposed to kill him, and when I realised how to do it, my skills were lacking, so yes, it took me a while. I was pretty frustrated lol, I mean, snowboarding is my worst enemy too but I never had to do it more than once! This game is just bullying people like me who suck at this mini game, sigh T_T It is pretty cool though. HOWEVER, it would have made life much easier if Red XIII threw a potion at me whenever I was dying and not just in between the battles, sighhh~

Anyway, this whole going into another dimension that Aerith says will change the course of events where we’ll now forge our own destiny or whatever by killing the Whispers who are trying to convene fate to be as it should flow like in the original story is…weird to say the least of it. Sephiroth wasn’t too difficult to beat, but I found the whole fight in this place weird and cliche, with all the “memories” of the original timeline coming to Cloud and them, and for them to destroy all that to change their fate. Okay, Zack is alive? Like, I was kinda thinking it would be interesting and funny if Zack were to survive but hmmm, not sure what to think of it. Well, the different dog probably indicates it’s a different timeline/world but that doesn’t really stop the writers from creating a story where he can jump to their world or whatever. Biggs is alive? Is everyone alive lol? Like, I guess Cloud and everyone are planning to alter fate so ensuring everyone survives is what they want, but at the same time, I’m just baffled at this ending. I honestly don’t know how to feel about it. It really doesn’t help that the dialogue is so… bland? Useless? It’s so flowery with no substance imo. Maybe in the next part we’ll get to see Zack’s new world line from his perspective and then their worlds can connect or something lol. Anyway! I’ll say, I don’t like or dislike the ending because honestly, with all the changes that happened with the Shinra company, I already lowered my expectations to the max lol, it also helped the ending was kinda spoiled to me before I even played the game, so I knew it wouldn’t be a faithful remake, but is instead more of a FFVII-2 kinda deal. But I still find the way things played out really disjointed and cliche. The whole chapter 18 suffered the most in dialogue and story tbh, because honestly, I’m not sure if people who haven’t played the original would really get it, and would they really get the importance of Zack lol. It’s just annoying that they decided to throw all this at the end when everything else was Shinra and Shinra. And yeah, I see why they made the Aerith and Cloud “romance” so subtle you couldn’t feel anything about it, it’s probably because they want to make it more of a Aerith and Zack thing for this remake, which is understandable, but kinda saddening because that changes a lot of things in terms of how you’ll feel about it all.

Overall Review Overall, let me attempt to put together how I feel about the whole thing. Honestly, I’ve been thinking about how to write down my feelings for days or weeks but I still don’t know what to say of this disappointment LOL. Tbh, I think the thing I would have appreciated the most would be Square Enix telling me that this wouldn’t be a faithful adaptation of the original with HD graphics and extended story/scenes. Because if I didn’t have that expectation, I wouldn’t have felt as mixed about the ending as I am now. People seem to hate on people for being disappointed at expecting that it would be a faithful adaptation, but really, what did you want a lot of the old fans to expect? The game itself is riding on a nostalgia train yet it’s our fault for thinking it would be faithful? Even the Japanese commercial rode on the nostalgia train with a guy happily talking about the iconic scenes in the original and being excited that he’ll be able to experience the remake with people who don’t know it. They clearly wanted old fans to join the hype and then sucker punched them to the gut with the ending. Thankfully, I knew what was coming so I survived but honestly, aside from hopefully still getting to see other iconic scenes, I’m not really interested in how the story will play out. I hate stories involving stuff like time travel and branching timelines etc most of the time, especially when time travel is not the main focus of the story. This isn’t something like Chrono Trigger. I think my biggest problem though was that considering how much of a slow burn 80% of the game was, the fact that once we got to the Shinra building, everything just lacked detail and felt so rushed into that...ending. My biggest problem isn’t the ending itself, but how everything led to that ending, because it was really dissatisfying to watch. Like, honestly, on paper, it’s not a bad idea, it would be interesting to see how things could play out with the unknown etc, but really, the way they did it with the obnoxious Whispers throughout the story, alongside the out of nowhere ending really killed the experience.

I’m probably being whiny at this point but really, the main gripe I have with the ending is that it makes me think that the writers thought it would be “boring” to just redo the original with extended stories because “everyone knows the story already” kinda thing, and it also kinda implies as if the original was “perfect as it is”, which I honestly have to disagree with. I love the original FFVII but honestly, a lot of things could have been told better without feeling as disjointed as some things were, like it was nice to uncover bits and pieces etc, but a lot of things also relied on you yourself to find it, so it’s easy to miss things. For example, without a walkthrough, I honestly didn’t realise there was that scene in the Shinra mansion where you could actually see Zack die. I also feel like integrating Yuffie and Vincent in the story more would have been something good to focus on in the original because Wutai is important, the Lucrecia, Hojo and Vincent story is important, but because they were optional, it wasn’t always something people found. I just feel like for the story FFVII is, it was really unnecessary to make it more convoluted than it is, because now it’s just detracting from what made this game good. Like, maybe it might be interesting with this time travel stuff, but at the same time, this isn’t really FFVII anymore, all it has is iconic scenes in HD as fanservice. Which kinda makes me mad, because they so blatantly shove in your face FFVII fanservice for like 90% of the game and then they just show this ending, like okay. I’m not even sure the Weapons are that important anymore because who needs them to come out to protect the planet if the Whispers (like really, are they even dead?) are around? It’s just the stakes for everything have become so high where it’s involving fate and time travel etc. what is the point of the stuff that are limited to being inside this planet that is being controlled by the Whispers of fate? Well, whatever, I could complain all day here and I would still feel dissatisfied.

Anyway, nevertheless, I still enjoyed most of the game. I had my gripes here and there with the changes, but most of it was done really well, and I still liked it a lot. I mean, Wall Market is so beautiful and went beyond my expectations! The detail they put into the graphics and stuff really blew me away and I couldn’t stop taking screenshots. I also liked how they made Avalanche a bit more personal to Cloud. Although I really enjoyed seeing Aerith, Tifa and Cloud fanservice though, sometimes I felt like the scenes were just that, like just fanservice and it kinda got tedious. The side quests throughout the game were also quite boring imo. Like, I don’t expect anything groundbreaking from them, but they were really boring story wise and gameplay wise. The “puzzles” such as climbing across on those hand bars were so tedious and slow, I was annoyed lol, it’s so clunky to do! I’ll take the stupid crane any day. And the battle AI kills me. I know you’re supposed to swap between characters to build up ATB but man would I appreciate if the ATB charged up faster or if the AI wasn’t so useless. Barret not doing his job shooting sentry turrets and Tifa guarding against enemies not attacking her from ten miles away made me want to strangle someone. Like, it’s not terrible, but it definitely wasn’t enjoyable enough for me to care about playing hard mode. Lol, I’m back to complaining, but honestly, if I played the remake without knowing the original, aside from the graphics, I’m not sure if I was really into the story at all. Not saying it’s bad, but Midgar was always kinda like the beginning of the beginning so it’s really not that interesting in itself, and the bland story telling didn’t help imo, I guess the good thing was that it solidified everyone’s relationships? Anyway, I’ll still play the other parts because it’s FFVII but I think if it becomes something like Lightning Returns etc, I really just might drop it. For now, I’ll just go along with the ride, right now, things are just a 7/10~

P.S I think what I’m most sad about right now is that I won’t have the same feelings I had when I bought the remake. Since I live in Australia, the copies were sold before April 10th, so really, I cancelled my pre-order and went to the store and bought it myself after work. I was really excited to have it and get to play it because even though a lot of the things weren’t the same, it felt really nice to relive that experience of joining Cloud and them on their journey again. I really liked it and thought the reinterpretation to fit the more serious mood and everything was nice, but I’m honestly disappointed that I won’t be as excited to continue the journey in the next part. It’s the first time in a long time since I felt so excited for a game to come out, so it’s saddening, but I guess this is what it is.

[buckyownsmyheart]

Training Day and The Bet [one-shot]

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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1,500+

Summary: There is only one way to settle a bet. Spoiler - it involves sexual tension and an extreme game of laser tag

Warnings: miniscule amounts of swearing

A/N: This is for @itsbuckysworld summer writing challenge! Massive thank you for letting me take part. The prompt was "What can I say, I have a weakness for people that can lift me over their heads”, and I had an absolute blast writing it!

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This was it. The time that everyone was waiting for. The first Friday of every month. Training Day. Where the entire team played a game under the premise that it would help teambuilding and tactics. Last month, the team tried their hand at go karts (obviously to aide their get-away driving), the month before that had been paint-balling. Others included capture the flag and a particularly intense game of hide-and-seek with a twist. The twist being the sniffer dogs that Tony deployed unexpectedly. 

Today was laser tag and this was the game that mattered the most because of the bet that had been going on between you and your fellow Avenger, Bucky Barnes. Since you joined the team 2 years ago, you had formed a strong love-hate relationship with the man, and it had only intensified with time. So maybe you wished the relationship was more love, but there was no way that you would admit that you often dreamt of the way his muscles rippled in the gym, or the way his eyes sparkle after he’s told a corny joke, and how you ask him to plait your hair, just so you can relish in the feeling of his fingers scratching at your scalp. That was a secret you would take to the grave, and at least your current friendship allowed you to spend more time together, even if it was to make jibes at the other. 

It all started in one of the first training days that you had participated in. You had headed one of the teams and Bucky led the other. You narrowly won, and after many untrue accusations of cheating, a rematch was set for the next month, and the month after that, until a bet was set. The first to win 10 games won the bet. If you won, you got his prized Harley Davidson motorcycle. However, if he won, he got your room. Your room was well renowned by the Avengers to be the best in the compound. It had the best view, looking over the forest with the sea in the distance, and the fact that it was next to the swimming pool was an added bonus. There was absolutely no way in hell you were letting him have it. You were currently running at an 9 all tie, meaning that this match was the decider.

With Natasha and Sam away on mission, your team consisted of Steve, Bruce and Peter. Bruce often played a key planning role, but on the field, he was a bit of a liability, and refused to answer to code green. Peter often got distracted. Apparently, he needed full on violence with a detailed backstory to be able to fight a fight. So, there was that. You couldn't trust Steve not to take Bucky's side, no matter how much he promised not to, meaning you were in a bit of a dilemma.

Bucky's team was Tony, Rhodey and Clint. Rhodey was the one who had recruited you after a particular tour in the marines, but no matter how hard you tried to persuade him to spy for you, he refused. Damn his loyalty and good morals. Tony was no use either, he couldn't be bribed and was far too competitive against Steve to let you win. Your last hope was Clint, who was pretty useless in these games; he usually hid in the vents before swooping down in the last minute and claiming victory. 

Both teams were sitting in the briefing room where you and Bucky were going through the rules.

"No cheating," Bucky listed, "No tampering with the electric vests, no powers."

"No external influences," you cut in, staring pointedly at Tony, "Canine or otherwise. You know the rest, team footloose with me to talk tactics."

"Team hotshot we’ll stay here.”

Once you gathered in your respective teams, the plan was set into motion. Peter was already giving everyone codenames; he had been watching lots of James Bond recently and was getting very much into it. You were Eagle, and to be honest, you were pretty chuffed with it. Bruce was Eeyore, for his docile manner and maintenance of a realistic, if somewhat pessimistic, outlook on life. Steve was Eton Mess, due to his blonde hair, pale complexion and now slightly burnt nose from a mission the week before, and Peter was Excel. The reasoning behind that is unclear. You think he just really likes Excel.

"Alright," you began, "You all know how important this is to me. Bucky cannot win, under any circumstances. There's a lot riding on this, and if he gives me one of his damn smug smirks, someone will die. He's beyond competitive and will take any opportunity to rub it into our faces."

"Come on, (Y/n)," Bruce said, "You're just as competitive as he is!"

"That's absurd, I'm far more competitive and you know it." You stated, before continuing with the plan. "Peter, you're gonna go all sticky on those vents and flush out Clint, I turned off his hearing aids this morning, so it'll be easier for you to sneak up on him. Bruce, I need you to try and engage with Rhodey, distracting him with talks of peace and all that shit, before taking him out. Steve, I need you on Tony. He'll be flying high in the suit, trying to suss out the plan from above. You need to lay low until he hits the ground, and then take him out once he gets cocky. I'm going to take down Bucky, and he will suffer."

⁎⁎⁎

Half an hour in, and the plan was working. Mostly. Peter had successfully taken out Clint, but Tony had managed to shoot Bruce from above before he could talk to Rhodey. Steve shot Rhodey in the distraction, but Tony got him too. You had managed to shoot Tony whilst he came down to gloat to Steve. You had allowed yourself a small smirk before finding Bucky. Peter was still hidden in the vents and had taken to talking in your ear at a rapid pace.

"Eagle! Eeyore said that bird's eye view was the easiest option, so maybe we should rendezvous at East exit where Eton Mess was eliminated, Excel over."

"That was a hell of a lot of E's there, Parker," you spoke quietly into the comms. "We're gonna need to clarify these codenames because we are barrelling towards a misunderstanding."

The comforting weight of the rifle in your arms allowed you to focus on the task ahead, whilst ignoring Peter’s blabbering into the radio. You stalked along the side of the building, holding your breath. As you were about to round the corner, you saw him. Bucky was stood behind a low wall, pointing his rifle over the top and very much on guard. He made a move towards the building that you had been heading for, and you pointed your gun to aim at him. As you looked down your sights, you saw Peter also pointing his gun at Bucky.

"No!" You shouted, hurtling towards Bucky. You barely registered Bucky's shocked face before you lifted him over your shoulder in a fireman's lift, and slammed him against the wall he had been standing behind moments before. You'd be damned if after all this you weren't going to be the one to take Bucky down. You needed as much gloating material as possible. Before you could act further, Bucky threw you against a make-shift boulder, pressing his entire body against yours. As he pinned you down, you felt an unmistakeable hardness against your upper thigh, and you had to fight hard to keep a smile under control.

"What are you doing?" He growled.

"Wanted to make sure I was the one who shot you," you smirked, "But now it seems I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place." You raised an eyebrow and peered down at the offending appendage.

Bucky moved back from you, his eyes wide. A pink blush dusted his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Despite his clear embarrassment, he let out a gentle laugh.

"It would be so much less hassle if you two just kissed and got it over with," Tony interrupted your moment. He had clearly given himself access into your comms as well. In response, before Bucky could do anything, you pushed him back onto the opposite wall, pressing yourself into him, and leaned close to his ear.

"Whaddya say, Sarge?" you whispered, making sure your breath reached his neck, and relished when goose bumps appeared, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"What can I say, I have a weakness for people that can lift me over their heads." He murmured back, his lips moving against your neck as his deep voice reverberated through you. He dropped his rifle and wound his arms around your waist.

Before he could get a grip on you, you stepped back, aimed your rifle at his chest and fired. His vest lit up red, the lights flickering to show he had been killed, and you were victorious. You couldn't help the smug smile that formed on your face as the look of shock and subsequent rage laced Bucky's features.

You turned, and before strutting away, you called over your shoulder. "At least ask me out first, and to think I thought you were a gentleman!” You paused for emphasis, turning slightly in his direction to gauge his reaction, “I've recently acquired a new mode of transport though, so I can come pick you up." And with a joyful laugh and a wink in his direction, you went to join the rest of your team, swinging your rifle over your shoulder. Boy did victory feel good. Nearly as good as Bucky pressed up against you, but that was for another time.

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[walkerismychoice]

Giving In (Bryce X MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Dr. Bryce Lahela X MC (Dr. Charlie Hawkins)

Rating: 18+/Erotica

Summary: Charlie thinks she just wants to be friends with benefits but Bryce wants more. Will Charlie give in?

Word Count: 2019

Charlie feels a hand slip into the back pocket of her scrub pants and give her a squeeze as she stands at the nurses station reading through charts. She turns to see who it is, but she already knows. "Dr. Lahela, I'm not sure that's appropriate workplace behavior. I may need to have a chat with HR."

Bryce scans the area and drops his voice low. "Make sure to tell them about the time you jumped me in the supply closet on our first day, and when we made and while spying on Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Banerji, and-"

"Shh!" Charlie presses a finger to his lips. "I suppose I walked right into that, but now you are making me wish I had time to sneak away with you to violate the employee code of conduct again."

Bryce shakes his head. "Dr. Hawkins, I'm beginning to think you only want me for my body."

"Can you blame me?" Her gaze sweeps over him from head to toe. Even in his hospital issued surgical scrubs, he always seems to look like some hot model who stepped off the pages of a surfing magazine.

Bryce's face falls momentarily before his ever present smile reappears. "Let's go out, Charlie. On a real date."

They haven’t discussed the terms, but this is supposed to just be a casual thing, at least as far as Charlie is concerned. "It's not like we haven't ever. We saw that band the one time and then hung out at my housewarming party."

"The party doesn't really count," Bryce argues.

"I let you sleep in my bed!" Which Charlie worried in the morning had been a mistake. Sleepovers are a couple-y thing and they are not a couple. 

Bryce shakes his head. “So back to the issue at hand, how does tomorrow night sound. You are off, right?”

“Actually, I picked up a shift for Landry, and I’m just super busy this week, but maybe tonight after our shifts I could come over to your place.” It would be easier to just leave his place than to have to kick Bryce out of hers.

“But it will be midnight by the time we get back. That doesn’t leave any time for any date-like activities.” Just then Bryce’s pager buzzes and he checks the screen. “I gotta run, but we’ll continue this discussion later.”

~~~~~

Charlie makes her way to the staff locker room after an extra long shift once again. It’s quiet at this off time as most of the outgoing shift has gone home and the night shift is already out on the floor, so she’s quite surprised to find a freshly showered Bryce inside, standing in his underwear.

“I’m getting a sense of deja vu here.” Charlie takes off her scrub top and moves to close the space between them. Up close she can tell that even the smell of his shampoo is reminiscent of the beach.

Bryce braces her hips, keeping a short distance between them. “Are you trying to seduce me so I’ll forget about our earlier conversation? Sorry, Charlie, but you are going to have to wine and dine me first if you want me to put out.”

Charlie chuckles. “When did you become such a prude?”

“Since I’ve noticed you keep trying to shut me out. The sex is great, incredible really, but I want to get to know you better. And I want you to like me for more than just my hands, and my mouth, and my-” Bryce shifts his eyes down towards the bulge in his boxer briefs.

“Oh, Bryce...” Charlie slides her arms around his waist and pulls him as close as he allows. “I like all of you.” She does, this isn’t a lie, but it’s also what scares her so much.

“Then show me. I’ll even meet you halfway and keep it simple. You can come by my place, get some takeout for dinner, watch a movie, talk...” Bryce waits eagerly for a reply. 

“Well that doesn’t sound terrible, and I do get off at 7 tomorrow.”

“It’s a date!” Bryce flashes a big toothy grin. Charlie backs him up against the lockers and kisses him deeply. Bryce reciprocates briefly before pushing her away. “Save it for tomorrow.”

~~~~~

Charlie arrives at Bryce’s place shortly after 8pm. It’s an older building but well maintained and his decor is not far off from what she would have expected - simple, modern, dark colors. She's always caught of guard when she sees him in anything outside of his hospital attire, and she’s really liking the patterned light gray button-down and slim-fitting dark jeans on him. She watches his eyes roam over her juniper green belted shirt dress down to her tan booties and lets out a low whistle. “You look hot, Charlie.”

She smiles but waves him off. “You always say that.” She will admit her dress looks good on and she wore that color because she knows it brings out the green in her eyes.

“That’s because it’s always true.” Bryce kisses her on the cheek.

"Well, same to you. Even in your hospital issued scrubs.” Charlie takes in the scenery in more detail while Bryce takes her bag and sets it off the side. She notices the small kitchen table already set up with plates of sushi and wine glasses.

Bryce pulls out a chair for her. "Have a seat," he instructs before retrieving a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator. "I don't know much about wine, but they said this riesling pairs well with sushi."

"Riesling is one of my favorites, and I Iove sushi." She takes a sip of the crisp, fruity wine after Bryce pours her a glass. "Mmm. It's perfect." They chat about their days as they eat and work their way towards deeper conversation. 

“I have a very serious and important question for you,” Bryce announces.

“Okay...” Charlie nervously fiddles with the napkin on her lap. 

“Cat or dog person?”

Charlie lets a laugh but thoughtfully considers her answer. “I like cats well enough, but I’m definitely a dog person.”

“Whew!” Bryce pretends to wipe sweat of his brow. ”If you would have said you hated dogs, it would have been a deal breaker.” His tone is serious but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

“So a dog is a requirement of yours?” How is he tricking her into talking about the future?

“I know my schedule doesn’t allow for me to have the time for one now,” Bryce laments, “but eventually, yes. I always had dogs growing up.”

“Me, too! My parents still have our beagle, Max we got when I was in high school. I kind of miss being jumped up on with slobbery kisses every time I come home.”

“I could make that happen for you.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Very funny, Bryce. Maybe that’s why your ex called you a golden retriever.”

“Ouch,” Bryce crosses his hands over his heart. “Moving on. Ready to watch a movie?”

They settle the couch and Bryce makes a selection. “Is this okay?”

“A Star is Born,” Charlie observed. “Interesting choice.”

“Did you see Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga at the Oscars? Their chemistry was on fire. I want to see what that’s all about.”

“You are full of surprises, Bryce. I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type to watch the Oscars.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Bryce admits. “I just saw it trending on Twitter."

"Wait!" Charlie picks up her phone and opens up Twitter. "Don't tell me your profile picture is you in your scrubs and a surgical cap." She types in "Dr. Lahela" because she can picture the whole setup and sure enough, the first thing that pops up is his picture just as she described. "You have quite a following Dr. Lahela." She scrolls down and reads some comments on his posts. "Dr. Sexy...You can operate on me any day...Woah, I'm not reading that one out loud."

Bryce grabs her phone and hides it behind one of the couch pillows. "And what about you? Probably too cool for Twitter and would rather go for the artsy aesthetic if Instagram. I bet you have something like a photo of a pretty sunset you took on vacation as your profile picture and a private account so you can be selective who you let in." He appears to type a couple different names to try before he pulls up a private account and flips the screen to show her. "Am I right?"

Charlie instantly recognizes the photo from her trip to Costa Rica. "You were so far off. It's a waterfall, not a sunset. She swipes the phone out of his hand and tosses it on a nearby chair."

"Hey, I was going to request to follow you, Charlotte!"

Charlie raises an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I would accept your request.” She dives to retrieve her phone behind Bryce’s back but he grabs her wrists before she can get there.

“You don’t need that anymore tonight.”

“What if the hospital calls?”

“Is your ringer on?” Bryce asks and she nods in response. “Then you don’t need to worry about it. She’s hovering over him and he relaxes his hold so she sinks further onto him, their lips not far apart. “Kiss me, Charlie.”

“What about the movie?” It’s the last thing on her mind right now, but it was his idea.

“You and I both know we would have made it 15-20 minutes tops before we got to this point. No need to delay the inevitable any further, but I do have one condition.” The way he’s looking at her, she knows you won’t be able to say no. “You’re going to stay the night with me, and I’m going to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Lahela.” She leans in and kisses him slow and deep as he releases his grip to untie her belt. The work at removing each other’s clothes piece by piece with kisses in between. “What now?”

“I want you to fuck me, just like this.” Bryce hands her a foil packet and she unrolls it onto his hard length. Straddling his hips, she guides him into her, lowering herself unhurriedly so she can feel every inch. “Fuck you’re so wet, Charlie.”

Bryce reaches up and caresses her breasts as she rides him. He circles her nipples with his thumbs and then tweaks them just hard enough, sending and intense jolt of pleasure straight to her core. She presses her palms against the hard planes of his sculpted, adjusted her angle so her clit is rubbing against him and he’s filling her completely. “Oh my god, Bryce, you feel so good.”

“You’re fucking incredible, Charlie.” Bryce rises to meet her lips and lies back down as she moves atop him faster and faster, pressure building until her dam’s about to burst

Bryce bucks his hip,moving in time with her and suddenly she’s seeing stars as her walls pulse around his cock. “Oh fuck, yes!” she cries out as feeling of euphoria washes over her.

Bryce grabs her ass and pulls her against him as he thrusts up into her. “Fuck me harder, Charlie. I’m so close.” She does as instructed and not long after he lets out a strangled moan as he cums inside her.

Charlie collapses against his chest, resting there while they both catch their breath.  “Ready to head to the bedroom?” Bryce asks, sweeping messy strands of hair from her face.

“Are you tired out already?” Charlie teases, looking up to meet his gaze.

Bryce smirks.”Not yet, but after round two, you won’t be able to move.”

~~~~~

Charlie wakes up to sun peaking through the curtains and quickly remembers she’s in Bryce’s bed. He’s snuggled up against her back side, his arm draped over her, still sleeping soundly. She hadn’t been sure how she would feel this morning, but it wasn’t this. As much as it scares her, It feels perfect, like this is exactly where she wants to be.