#sidelines and let others command the fighting force she built up? no.
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listen to my vision boy
#didn't mean to make sonic look so mad but his side profile is so hard to nail down#1 year time skip arc that never came into fruition how i think about you so much#in my opinion one of the biggest low points in sally's writing- it's not that her actions felt out of place- it's that she was going throug#a depressive state and that itself was barely acknowledged#like yeah- it makes sense she would make crappy decisions after losing one of her oldest and closest friends while in the middle of a war#do I think she would distance herself from friends and family? yes bc she's done that before. do I think she would be willing to stay on th#sidelines and let others command the fighting force she built up? no.#if anything she would throw herself more into her work to try and fill out the void sonic left#as for the infamous breakup#i genuinely believe that was almost entirely self-sabotage on sally's part -if i absolutely had to justify the writing#girl needed a wellness check#as for everyone else- damn we missed out on a lot of character development#staring at antoine 👀#anyways I think sonic should have had a space adventures arc where he finds where all the other chaos emeralds were at the time
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The Fight - Little Sparrow Series Oneshot
A/N: I took a much looser approach with the prompt for Writer Wednesday. :) Thank you for reading, reblogging, and commenting.
Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F! Reader x Ellaria Sand
Warnings: 18 + for language, canon typical violence, mentions of depression, wanting to die, angst with a resolution.
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“You are an absolute FOOL!” Ellaria shouts from the entrance to the training yards. Men and women scattered in all directions at the fire in her eyes. Ellaria is a fearsome woman to behold on an average day but when she is angry, beware.
Oberyn scoffs and stabs his spear into the ground, leaning on it gently. “What have I done now?” Ellaria stomps the rest of the way towards him and grabs onto his jaw harshly.
“What have you done now?! Think, you always claim to be the smartest man in the room, the most cunning, the red viper,” her words dripping with sarcasm.
“I truly do not know,” he pushes her hand away, but the viper is not quick enough, and her hand smacks across his face. The spear clatters the ground, and Oberyn reaches for his cheek, holding it and staring at her with wide eyes.
“How dare you?” she growls, “I should have hit you harder! Maybe then you would remember what you have done to our Sparrow.”
Oberyn furrows his brow for a moment before realization slowly dawns on his face. Memories of a conversation with you from the night before. His belly was still full of wine, his head a bit hazy as he spared with a newer soldier.
**********
“Oberyn, please,” you begged, standing outside the ring used for fighters. His moves were sloppy; he was going to get himself hurt. “Please, my love, come to bed.”
“Go!” he barks at you, narrowly missing a blow to the head from the other wooden sword of his opponent. “Is that all you got?!” he shouts, edging the other man on. His expression hardens, and his sword moves quicker, slashing left and right against Oberyn.
You know what day it is—the reason for his drinking to excess, calling upon everyone for a fight. The children and Ellaria had been sent away for the evening, and you wished for her soft touch around your shoulders. Oberyn had begged you to stay, claiming only to need your body to suppress the grief he wishes to drown in. “Oberyn,” you call again, quieter, the tears beginning to swell in your eyes.
He turns towards you, and that’s all the distraction his opponent needed. The other man strikes him in the chest, knocking him off balance, the spear toppling from his hand. He barrels, rolls around your prince, and picks up the spear pointing the sharp blade against his neck. “Yield,” he growls, eyes hard, and Oberyn just watches his chest panting, the steel prick of his spear against his throat.
The red viper does not lose.
“Yield,” he repeats, pressing the blade tighter to the prince’s throat, drawing a drop of blood, staining the golden robes.
Oberyn lifts his head, and more blood trickles down his neck, “never,” he growls, voice dripping with venom. “Kill me,” he orders, “strike me down, live in infamy as the man who killed the Red Viper.”
“NO!” you step forward, reaching a hand out to wrap around the spear with one hand and pushing your lover down with the other. “That is quite enough for one night.” His opponent drops the spear to the ground and stands above you, bowing his head.
“My apologies, my Lady, my Prince,” he bows to you both before turning to leave the training yard. All others have left for the night, and it’s as silent as the grave as you turn back to Oberyn.
You can feel his eyes burning on yours, and you avoid them, instead choosing to focus on the golden robe. “You’re covered in blood, my Prince,” you go to unbutton the cinch at the top, but his hand tightens around your own.
“Don’t touch me,” his voice is stern, and he throws your hand aside, standing up. You remain kneeling before him, head down; he’s never used that tone with you. The anger and malice slicing through your heart like a dagger. “How dare you.”
Your head snaps up, and you feel the strength returning as you stand, hands trembling with your anger. “How could I? Do you expect me to just stand on the sidelines and watch you die?! Hurt yourself?!”
“I had it under control,” he takes a threatening step towards you, his finger coming up to your face, “you disgraced me.”
You take a shuddering breath, “I disgraced you because I love you? Explain that to me, Oberyn. I love you with my entire heart, my soul.”
He scoffs and takes a shaky step away, his fingers fumbled with the buttons of his robe, throwing it towards you. It bounces off your chest, and you catch it in your hands, the blood staining your fingers. “You’re not my wife,” he tosses over his shoulder as he reaches for the goblet of wine, filling up his cup, “why don’t you find some other cock to fuck you tonight.”
You ball the fabric up in your hand and feel your heart shatter in two, “I don’t take other lovers beside you and Ellaria; you know that.”
He laughs, “well, it is not my cock that will fill your cunt tonight. I’ll go to the brothel and find another woman who won’t disgrace me in battle and will keep her mouth filled with my cock instead of nagging me about what I do.”
You watch him walk away out towards the front of the Palace, each step putting another nail in the coffin of your heart. Oberyn did not visit the brothels since you joined his little harem, Ellaria, and you being more than enough for him. Ellaria had warned this could happen tonight, on this day when the memory of his sister, Elia, and her children’s deaths are reawoken like gaping wounds.
“Daemon,” you call into the shadows knowing the Prince’s guard is never far, “follow him, please,” you whisper, and he nods. His footsteps retreating after Oberyn.
You walk through the quiet halls of the Water Gardens and towards the washing room near the river. And there you stay until the morning light streams through. Your hands scrubbed raw with the force you used to remove the blood from the Golden robes. The fabric still scrunched between your fingers as you lay your head in a basket of blankets ready to be washed.
“My lady,” one of the servants presses her hand gently on your arm, and you blink, sitting up suddenly, “are you alright?”
“Where’s Oberyn?” you ask, almost frightened to know.
“The Prince returned only a few hours ago; the Maester gave him something to make him sleep. He should be up in a few hours right as rain.” The young woman smiles at you, and you cringe at the kink in your neck. “My Lady, please beg pardon, but you don’t look so well, should we call the Maester?”
“No,” you reply quickly, “no, please don’t. I just need to rest.” You move towards the door, planning to lock yourself in your private room for the rest of the day.
“What about the Prince’s robe?” she probes gently, and you stiffen, glancing down at the fabric still clutched between your hands. “Would you like us to wash them?” You nod, feeling hollow, memories of the night before flashing before your eyes. She gasps when you hand the robe over and looks at your hands, clutching them. “My Lady, your hands….”
You grab them back and clutch them to your chest, “please,” you close your eyes, feeling the tears ready to flow, “please just forget about them.” When you open, she looks sad but nods.
“Your secret is safe with me,” she whispers back, and you give her a slight nod, going off to your room to rest.
The rest of the day passes uneventful, many come with offers of food and a bath, but you ignore their calls. With the last of your strength, you’d pushed the dresser against the door so no one could enter. “Sparrow?” Ellaria’s voice chimes from the other side and you tremble at the concern in her voice, “they said you had not eaten all day; what is the matter?” She tries to turn the handle, but the door is locked, and you hear her shouting orders at someone, probably to unlock it.
She twists the nob, and it turns, but the door doesn’t budge. “Sparrow! Come to the door, are you alright?!” she sounds frantic, and you want to get up, but your energy is gone. The Prince’s words playing over and over in your head doubts swimming over everything you’ve built with him.
The curtains towards the balcony sway in the breeze, and you hear footsteps coming from the window. “She’s bared the door, Mother!” Nym shouts, pushing the dresser out of the way and coming back to sit beside you, putting her hand on your cheek, “mama? Are you alright?”
“Nym, leave us,” Ellaria commands, and Nym nods, leaning down to kiss your forehead before standing and leaving quickly, pulling the door shut behind her. Ellaria lays down on the bed beside you and puts her hand to your cheek, kissing you softly. “What’s the matter, Little Sparrow?” You break down and cry, her pushing you tight to her breast and running her hand over your head as you tell her everything.
“He told me I’m not his wife. That, it’s not his cock that will fill my cunt. He’ll go to the brothel and find another woman who won’t disgrace him in battle and will keep her mouth filled with his cock instead of nagging him about what he does.”
Her hand stills, and her voice is tight, “he said that to you?” You nod, letting out a hiccup from your sobs. “Has he come and spoke to you today?” You shake your head no, and her voice drops lower, almost deadlier, “I’ll be back.” She disentangles herself from your arms, and you watch her straighten her spine, her hands clenched into fists at her side.
**********
Oberyn clutches his head and looks ashamed at the ground. “Ah, now he remembers,” Ellaria taunts, “you are lucky she is even still here! I would have let you rot before I let you talk to me that way. Now, go and make this right before you make the biggest mistake of your life.”
“I wouldn’t blame her if she never forgave me.”
“Oh no, you do not get to feel sorry for yourself.” Ellaria waggles a finger at him as he lifts his eyes to meet the fire in her gaze. “Do you love her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want her to stay? To warm your bed? Give you children, and take care of you?”
“Yes.”
“Then go talk to her,” Ellaria crosses her arms over her chest and glares down at him, “or you will lose two paramours today.”
He stands and moves past her to your chambers, where he idles outside the door. Shame filling him at the words he hurled at you, like verbal daggers. He knocks on the door, unsurprised not to hear an answer. He twists the knob and walks inside. “Little Sparrow,” he calls out to you, hating how your body tenses up turned away from him on the bed. He closes the door behind him and comes to sit behind you on the bed, reaching a hand out to your waist.
You push his hand away, and he gasps at the rough touch of your palm. He is quickly reaching across you to pull your hands into his own. “What happened? Who did this to you?” He would kill them.
“You did,” you whisper broken, “I tried to get the blood out of your robe you threw at me,” you raise your eyes to meet his. The warmth is missing from his brown eyes as he stares down hard at your hands.
“You washed my robe?”
“What else was I supposed to do? Find another cock to fill my cunt,” the words taste bitter on your tongue, and you rip your hands from his own, clutching them to your chest. “How was the brothel?”
“I don’t know. I woke up fully clothed there this morning, Daemon guarding the door. He said I demanded whores to be brought to me, but I sent them all away.”
“Why?”
“Because no one is you, my love.” He reaches his hand out, and you fall to your back as he hovers over you. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, “I begged you to stay, and then I...I didn’t mean any of it. I was angry and sad.”
“You wanted to die, Oberyn.” Your words hanging in the air between you.
“I always wish I had died instead of her,” he whispers, “Every day I see Elia in my head, her voice begging me to move forward. This is the first time in two years I felt that way. It used to be every day.”
“What changed two years ago?”
“I met you.” Your heart pounds, and he moves closer, laying some of his weight down on you, “I met a Little Sparrow that took my heart and made it soar to the heavens where she flew. You,” his voice cracks with emotion, “are the love of my life. My reason for living. I’m sorry I lost my way.”
You cup his cheek and brush the stray tears, “have you found your way home to me?”
“I always know which way to fly home, Little Sparrow; you light the way.”
“I love you, Oberyn Martell. I forgive you, but please don’t leave me alone in this world.”
“Never, my love, never.”
#Little Sparrow Series#Oberyn Martell#Ellaria Sand#Female Reader#Game of Thrones#Oberyn Martell x F! Reader x Ellaria Sand#Autumn Writes#Writer Wednesday
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A Little Red Handprint
Summary - Echo is still learning how to adapt to having a child on board and struggles with deciding to treat her like a soldier or like a child. With a simple question from Omega, Echo finally makes his decision.
Word count - 2.7k
AO3
Echo had spent his entire life being trained to become the perfect soldier for the Republic. He could use every weapon imaginable, formulate a battle plan on the spot, follow orders to a T, and take down a droid with a single perfectly-aimed shot. He was proud to say that with time, he had learned to be exactly the type of soldier that the Republic wanted.
But if there was one thing he was never taught, it was how to handle a child.
Echo was completely clueless with how to care for Omega. Despite constantly watching Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech from the sidelines as they interacted with Omega, he was unsure of how to interact with her even after a few days.
At most, he’d dealt with a couple of cadets as an ARC trooper, but he treated them as soldiers instead of the children they truly were. He regretted his past actions the moment he saw Omega’s eyes flood with awe the first time she went into hyperspace as he learned how children appreciate the little things. There was a time and place for being a soldier but for now, Omega deserved to have the childhood no other clone could have.
Echo was fighting a constant but silent battle in his head over this matter. He wanted her to learn how to protect herself as a soldier could, especially after the events of Pantora, but he also didn’t want her to be in constant fear for her life. Echo was sure that their team would do everything in their power to keep her safe, but a thousand “what ifs?” still circled around in his mind.
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear Omega’s soft footsteps approaching. She could tell he was deep in thought and almost hesitated to interrupt him, but she eventually spoke, “Echo, can you help me with something?”
It was only thanks to years of training that Echo didn’t jump out of his skin at Omega’s sudden presence. He’d always had a bad habit of getting lost in his thoughts, something Fives loved to relentlessly tease him for.
Burying his surprise, Echo turned to meet Omega’s soft brown eyes and replied, “Sure kiddo, what do you need help with?”
“My trooper’s head is loose, and I don’t know how to fix it,” Omega said, revealing her trooper doll from behind her back and holding it up to Echo.
It still made Echo’s heart skip a beat to see that Omega had painted her doll to match the Bad Batch’s armor. Even though it was clearly the work of a child, he could tell that she put her entire heart into her work.
Taking the doll from Omega’s outstretched hand, Echo set the doll in his palm to get a good look at it. It was clear to him that the head had just been unscrewed from the neck a few times so with a couple twists, the head was back on as normal.
It was an easy fix, so easy that he was sure Omega would have known how to do it herself. Tech had been teaching her how to make all different kinds of repairs and she clearly had background knowledge as well. There had to be some other reason why she asked for his help.
Just as Echo was about to question Omega, she hesitantly spoke, “Echo, I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you wear leather armor on your belt when no one else does?”
Echo smiled softly as he realized that Omega just wanted an excuse to talk to him for a bit. The thought warmed his heart as he replied, “It’s called a kama, it’s a piece of armor I got after I became an ARC trooper. My captain used to say that it acted as extra protection, but my brother Fives always said it was just to make us look cool.”
Ever-curious, Omega propped herself up to mimic his position and asked, “So the reason you’re the only one who wears a kama is because you’re the only ARC trooper?”
“Yes, but the Mandalorians wore them before ARC troopers did. Once Jango Fett introduced kamas to the clones, ARC troopers began wearing them too,” he answered, preparing himself for more questions from the small girl.
Echo continued to answer her never-ending questions with a never-ending amount of patience. He told her countless stories about Fives and Domino Squad, a fond yet nostalgic smile on his lips the entire time.
Even without being told, Omega seemed to understand that the members of his previous squad were all dead and didn’t ask a single question about how they died. Instead, she asked questions about things like their favorite colors and Echo’s favorite memories with them.
Just when Echo thought Omega was running out of steam, she asked, “Can I try on your kama, please?”
Her question surprised both Echo and Omega, the shocked look on Omega’s face showing that the question had just slipped from her mouth.
Without hesitation, Echo reached behind him to unclip the kama and let it slip into his hands. Omega, seeming to understand what he was doing, broke out into one of her bright smiles and stepped forward to allow Echo to tie the kama around her waist. Even on the tightest setting it was too big on Omega, but she didn’t seem to care as she ran her fingertips over the rough leather.
Echo contently watched as Omega jumped around, giggling when the kama whacked against her legs. Even though she had to hold the kama in place with one hand, she seemed to be enjoying herself.
Seeing Omega so happy to be wearing a piece of his armor, Echo decided he would let her try on all of his gear. Echo was never more grateful for the prosthetic hand Tech had built him than when he was removing his armor. He was able to remove his armor and leave himself in his blacks in record time, Omega too distracted with Echo’s kama to notice what he was doing.
Echo called Omega over to him with a quick call of her name. She strolled to his side, still smiling about the way the kama was flapping against her legs.
Echo held his helmet up with one hand and asked, “Can’t let you just wear the kama, soldier. How about we get you into full gear?”
Omega gasped as her face lit up, nodding furiously. Echo returned the smile and helped her get his helmet over her head. The helmet was so big on her that she could spin it all the way around her head, which led to heavy laughter from them both.
The rest of his armor was also far too big on the small girl, but he managed to at least fasten it enough so it wouldn’t fall off of her petite frame.
Echo could hear her giggles echoing in his helmet and couldn’t help but laugh along with her. If his armor was big on her, he could only imagine how easily she would be swallowed up by Wrecker’s gear.
Omega quickly cleared her throat and stood at attention like she’d seen him do countless times. Even though Omega mimicked Hunter the most, it always brought warmth to Echo’s heart to see the small girl copying his actions.
Echo stood at attention as well, giving the girl a firm salute and smiling as she returned it with a little more force than needed and whacked her hand against his helmet.
“Hi soldier, I’m Echo and I’m an ARC trooper,” Omega’s voice rang out, clearly trying to copy the authoritative tone she’d heard from commanding officers. A quick laugh escaped from Echo as Omega dropped her voice several octaves to try to sound more like him.
Echo heard a quiet snort come from Omega before she said, “What are you laughing at, soldier? Drop and give me twenty!”
Echo replied with a quick, “Sir, yes, sir!” before getting to the ground to begin doing push ups. He felt Omega crawl on his back to sit on him just as she sat on Wrecker when he did his daily push ups. The armor dug uncomfortably into his cybernetics, but he kept his complaint to himself.
Omega jumped off his back after a minute and said, “I’m gonna go show everyone what I look like in your armor!”
Echo didn’t even have time to respond as she marched to the cockpit to greet Tech, armor clanging together as she moved. Echo slowly followed behind her, walking in just in time to hear Omega say, “Look Tech, I’m Echo!”
Tech looked up from the small project in his hands to see Omega with her arms spread wide and a smile undoubtedly spread across her face under Echo’s helmet. Echo didn’t miss the twitch of Tech’s lips as he fought back a smile at the sight of the young girl swallowed in Echo’s armor.
Omega put on her Echo-voice again and said, “Tech, did you finish your work on repairing the communications system? Hunter wanted that done by the end of the day.”
This time Tech allowed himself to smile at the child and responded, “Yes, communications are up and running, though I doubt we’ll need to use them. Everything else is as it should be.”
Echo quietly stood off to the side, doing his best to give the two of them some space as they no doubt spoke of the projects Tech was currently working on. Tech always enjoyed getting to speak to someone about his various interests, and Echo didn’t miss how Omega was eager to soak up every bit of information he gave.
A moment later, Omega sped past him and made a beeline for Hunter’s bunk. Before Echo could leave to go after her, Tech spoke, “We’ll be landing in precisely 30 minutes. You might want to get your armor back in that time.”
Echo nodded and ran off to catch up with Omega. Just as she was about to poke Hunter awake, Echo grabbed her wrist and softly said, “Sorry kiddo, but Tech says we’re landing soon and I’ll need my armor back.”
Echo could sense that she was pouting, but nonetheless let Echo lead her away from a snoring Hunter to a quiet area on the ship. Omega lifted her arms out and let Echo unclasp his armor from around her frame.
As Echo was helping Omega take off his armor, his thoughts drifted to Rex and Fives. Even though the events on the Rishi moon cost him three of his beloved brothers, it strengthened his bond with Fives and introduced him to Rex. Their armor tied them together and while he wasn’t wearing 501st colors anymore, his armor would always remind him of his brothers.
An idea popped into Echo’s head as he removed the final piece of armor from Omega and began, “You know Omega, there’s something from my armor that’s been missing for a long time. I used to have a handprint from my Captain on the chest plate of my old armor. Since I’m part of a new team, I’ve been thinking of getting a new handprint too.”
Omega tilted her head in confusion, so Echo continued, “Would you put your handprint on my kama for me?”
Omega beamed from ear to ear and exclaimed, “Of course! I’ll go grab the paint!”
While Omega ran off to grab the spare paint they kept on board, Echo began putting on his armor, leaving his kama to the side.
The pitter patter of Omega’s quick footsteps alerted Echo to her presence as she returned with a canister of red paint and a paintbrush in her hand.
“I thought the red paint would look best on it, but I can get black if you want!” Omega said, clearly happy to be doing this with Echo.
“I think red is perfect. You ready?” Echo asked as he plucked the paintbrush from between Omega’s small fingers. In response, Omega stuck out her left hand and smiled brightly.
Echo kneeled to the ground, bringing Omega down with him, and brought the paint and his kama to his side. Echo plopped a splat of paint against Omega’s hand, which led her into a fit of giggles as she said, “That’s cold!”
Echo smiled at her laughter and began brushing the paint across her hand, which led to even more giggles as she exclaimed, “Now it’s cold and it tickles!” Echo laughed as she squirmed about, but continued applying an even coat of paint against Omega’s small palm.
When he was finished, Echo set the paintbrush down and lifted the kama in front of Omega. He didn’t have a preference for where she put the handprint and knew she was smart enough to pick the best place for it.
“I’ll let you pick a good spot, just make sure to keep your hand steady,” Echo instructed. Omega nodded, her eyes flicking over Echo’s kama. Eventually, she lifted her palm up on the left flap of his kama, just above his knee. It was about an inch or so on either side of the red border, and Echo thought it would look perfect.
As Omega pulled her hand back to reveal the mark she’d made, Echo felt tears flood his eyes. Even if the handprint belonged to someone else, it would always remind him of Rex. Echo was more than happy to be part of this team, but he couldn’t deny that there were some nights when he longed for the company of his brothers in the 501st. His happiest memories were with them and after all he’d been through, he still craved the simple joy that came from something as trivial as a pillow fight or deep conversations over a cup of caf.
Sensing his sadness, Omega silently laid her unpainted hand over one of Echo’s. Tears began to pour down Echo’s cheeks, but Omega stayed silent and kept her warm hand over Echo’s. He hadn’t cried like this in ages, and he felt years of suppressed moments bubbling up.
(Rex would love Omega, wouldn’t he? And by the Maker, he just knew Fives would be able to make Omega laugh for hours.)
Echo smiled at the thought, squeezing Omega’s hand before using his sleeve to dry his tears. Echo finished cleaning himself up just as Hunter emerged from his bunk with sleep in his eyes and a fond smile on his face at the sight of Echo and Omega.
Omega ran over to Hunter with her painted palm held out and exclaimed, “Hunter, look! Echo let me put my handprint on his kama!”
Hunter chuckled, ruffling her hair and replying, “It looks great, kiddo. You’ve got some skills as an artist. Let’s get you cleaned up now, okay?”
She nodded in response, but ran back to Echo to throw her arms around him first. Still kneeling on the ground, Echo was almost knocked over by the force of the small girl’s hug. Echo returned the hug, placing one hand on her back and threading his fingers through her hair with the other.
She contently sighed against him before mumbling, “Thank you, Echo.”
Echo hugged her tighter and replied, “No Omega, it should be me thanking you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Omega stayed latched onto Echo, only releasing him from her hold when Hunter cleared his throat. She pulled away from him and stepped over to Hunter, but not before giving Echo one of her smiles that could rival the brightness of the sun. He smiled in return, watching as Hunter guided her to the refresher.
Staring fondly at the little red handprint adorning his kama, Echo knew that Omega may not be a soldier like them, but she was definitely a member of their team and he’d protect her just as he’d protect any of his brothers. The hole in his heart left by the parting of Rex and death of Fives may never be filled, but he had a feeling that their newest member would be bringing a new kind of joy to his heart.
-- Dedicated to my wonderful friend @eternalqueenofthemyscira --
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Battle Tendency Liveblog: JJBA Ch. 83-87
Last time, the Red Stone of Aja got mailed out to the bad guys, so Joseph and Caesar have gone to shake down the Venice Post Office. Notably, Joseph wears a hat and coat similar to the one he’s rocking in Part 3.
Turns out, the package is already on its way to St. Moritz, Switzerland. Messina knows this because... okay, try to follow this. So Esidisi hijacked Suzie Q’s body to mail the Stone. So she probably wasn’t even aware of what she was being forced to do, but Lisa Lisa used Ripple Hypnosis on her to retrieve the address. You’d think she would have told the boys about this ability before they ran over to the post office, but maybe they left before she could say anything.
Meanwhile, this dog’s about to get run over, but this is Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, so what else is new. Araki’s hatred for comic book dogs is the stuff of legend.
OR IS IT? Yeah, take a good long look, because this is the only time Araki saves a dog in JJBA. Apparently, Kars is a sucker for innocent plants and animals, go figure.
I don’t know what else to tell you, except Battle Tendency = Best JoJo Part.
As for Joseph, he and the others go to Switzerland, only to get held up by Nazis at the border. Turns out, their mysterious commander knows all about the Red Stone of Aja, the Pillar Men, and Joseph and Caesar’s Ripple training. That guy who tried to rob Lisa Lisa a while back? He was a Nazi spy the whole time. So now they have the Stone, and they want to cooperate with Joseph’s group. Lisa goes along with it, because it’s better than letting Kars find the stone.
For some reason, Araki pauses to discuss Nazi Germany a bit, except he has all these historical events from March and September of 1939. I’m not entirely clear on the chronology of Part 2, except that the final battle with Kars takes place in February of 1939, so none of these things have happened yet.
But the point still stands. Hitler wants Nazi Germany to rise above mankind, just as Kars seeks his own kind of supremacy. And like Kars, the Nazis are interested in the Red Stone of Aja as a possible path to greater power.
Everybody spends the night at some Swiss inn, until Kars shows up and uses his hyper-senses to detect how many men are in their room. Then he slashes through the wall with that blade he sprouts out of his forearm, killing them all with one attack.
Except for their commander, who has the Stone. Kars is confused, because he sensed the number and location of everyone in the room, but somehow he missed this last guy, because he’s got no body heat.
And Joseph barges in just in time to find out that this dude is Stroheim, the Nazi officer who blew himself up to stop Santana. Somehow he’s alive, and also a cyborg, which is why Kars couldn’t detect him.
Kars only wants two things: To capture the Aja Stone, and to kill Joseph Joestar. He says that he can’t afford to spare a Ripple User powerful enough to slay Esidisi, but Joseph wonders if Kars is motivated by a desire to avenge his comrade, rather than any sort of cold tactics. Wammu had called dibs on fighting Jojo, but he’s in Greece at the moment, and Kars is in no mood to wait.
But Stroheim insists on tackling Kars himself, as his cyborg body was specifically designed using the information gleaned from studying Santana. He’s strong enough to rip out pieces of Kars’ flesh, and he’s armed with a big-ass machine gun. He tells Joseph not to pity him, because he’s proud to become this living tribute to German technology.
What I want to know is: How did Stroheim survive Mexico without Joseph knowing about it? He was there when that grenade went off, after all. Maybe Stroheim landed some distance away, where Joseph wouldn’t have thought to look for him. But how did Stroheim’s men find him?
Anyway, Kars is not impressed, and he cuts Stroheim in half with his “light mode”, which is just the blades in his arms. They seem to glow, but it’s actually just reflected light from the complex patterns in the blades. From the sidelines, Joseph is unnerved by Kars’ ability, because he doubts that he could block or avoid those blades, even with the full power of his Hamon energy.
As for Stroheim, he had no idea that Kars could do anything like this. I don’t know, are arm-blades really that big a deal? Wammu’s powers seem a lot cooler, and Esidisi’s “flame mode” looks pretty scary, even if it only melts stuff. Still, it’s enough to beat Stroheim. Kars mocks him for thinking that he and Santana were on the same level. Kars considered Santanta a “novice”, like a “weak puppy.” That’s an interesting choice of words, since we just saw Kars save the life of a weak puppy earilier. Maybe that same pity was the only reason Kars kept Santana around in the first place. As dangerous as Santana was, Kars considers him utterly useless.
He even refers to Santana as “it.” Maybe that’s just a mistake in this scanlation, but I dunno. He’d probably use “it” to refer to that puppy he saved too. And maybe this contempt explains why Kars refers to him as “Santana”, the name Stroheim gave the guy. I always wondered why Kars didn’t use Santana’s real name, but maybe Santana never had one.
But Stroheim’s not done just yet. He has a UV beam built into his eyepiece, which stuns Kars long enough to make him drop the stone, and then it slides over a cliff.
Joseph and Kars race after it, but Kars is faster, because he doesn’t have to worry about slowing down before he goes over the edge. He can survive the fall, while Joseph can’t. So Kars figures that Joseph will try to kick him, and Joseph does throw a kick... at the snow, to distract Kars long enough for Joseph to get the Stone back.
But Kars has blades in his legs too, and he uses one to snag Joseph and pull him over the edge of the cliff. Joseph manages to use Hamon to grab hold of some icicles to stop his fall, but he still has to deal with Kars’ unstoppable blades, and his relentlessness. Joseph’s whole deal is that he outsmarts his opponents by exploiting their inattentiveness. But Kars is laser focused on getting the Aja Stone, so it’s almost impossible to catch him off-guard.
So Joseph uses that tenacity against him by holding up the Stone in the path of Kars’ attacks. Kars wants to kill Joseph, but he doesn’t dare use his blades near the Stone. Remember, Kars’ plan requires that specific Aja Stone because it’s the only one big enough and flawless enough to power his “Ultimate Life Form” mask. If he damages the Stone, it won’t be suitable for his needs. Knowing this, Joseph kicks him down the rest of the way, while he heads back up a “rope” made of Ripple-connected icicles.
Said icicles were provided by Caesar, who expected Joseph to try something like this, because he’s already learned that Joseph thinks in terms of ropes and strings. Stroheim is astonished by their flawless teamwork.
Below, Kars goes out of his way to adjust his fall so as not to crush a flower. He laughs at this latest setback, because he’s just that impressed with Joseph’s resourcefulness. Then he withdraws to try again another day.
This whole arc surprised me when I watched the anime, because it seemed like Kars would be the final boss of Battle Tendency, but here he was fighting Joseph early. And it wasn’t exactly an all-out fight. They had a little footrace and Joseph used the Aja Stone to keep Kars at bay, but not much more than that. Considering all the crazy stuff we saw from Esidisi, you’d think Kars would be much more dangerous.
But that’s just it. Esidisi was extremely formidable, and Joseph destroyed him with his Hamon training. Kars lost 33% of his team in a single stroke. All he has left is Wammu, who’s in Greece at the moment. He simply can’t afford to take on Joseph in this situation, so he doesn’t try anything too crazy. Both of them know his blades are powerful enough to get the job done, so he used them, but when they stopped being effective, he ran out of cards to play, so he left. It’s not that Kars is weak, it’s just that Joseph’s gotten so much stronger. So this fight feels like a much milder affair than the battles with the other Pillar Men so far, even though Kars is supposed to be the best one.
And this is something else I really love about Part 2. There’s only five villains to deal with: Straizo, Santana, Eisidisi, Wammu, and Kars. That’s it, so it makes things pretty easy to keep up with, and it leaves room for Wammu and Kars to fight multiple times.
Compare this with Part 3, where the Stardust Crusaders have to fight through a gauntlet of evil Stand Users as they make their way to Egypt. I think I counted 26 bad guys in Part 3? Somewhere in that neighborhood. And I love Part 3, don’t get me wrong, but if Dio only had ten henchmen instead of two dozen, would it really hurt the story?
This was something that really bugged me about Parts 4 and 5. Would La Squadra Esecuzioni’s role in Vento Aureo be any different if they only had five guys instead of seven? And what was the deal with that dude who lived in the transmission tower? Most of the “villains” in Part 4 were just randos who just fought with the good guys for no particular reason.
With Part 2, you don’t have any of that. Five villains, and three of them only get to fight once. That means every fight has to count, and every fight has to move the story along. Kars isn’t going to just show up to be sociable. He saw an opening to achieve his goal, and he went for it, only to discover his enemies were better prepared than he expected. Now, he’ll have to wait for Wammu...
#jojo's bizarre adventure#battle tendency#joseph joestar#caesar zeppeli#kars#rudol von stroheim#lisa lisa#messina#suzie q
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Adora, Catra & Trauma (Pt2)
(Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4)
Full Show
An Analysis of the way Catra & Adora are affected by their respective traumatic experiences.
Relationships With Others:
Adora:
Adora works to be of use to other people and to be liked. She wants to impress people and to be “good enough”. Her sense of self and self-worth is completely tied up in how others view her; this is based on the identity destabilization and unhealthy schemas from disorganized attachment style. Disorganized attachment is born from Shadow Weaver, her mother figure and primary attachment, was psychologically abusive and formed a person who was not always safe to return to. Adora while didn’t form a complete distrust or others in a fight way but truly flees or fawns to the person she wants to attach to. Her attunement is strong for the most part but it is easily broken.
Princess Alliance
Adora doesn’t have distinct relationships to most of the princess alliance. She regards them with loyalty and affection but doesn’t seem to have attachments past the need to be the ideal of She Ra. Adora’s interactions with most of the other princesses are filtered through her identity issues.
Adora's interaction with Entrapta stands out the most because they have more one on one interactions and spend time on the same and on opposing sides. There are periods of stronger emotion like guilt, then a mostly apathetic confrontation to being able to work together.
Light Hope & Queen Angella
Light hope and Angella both fill the void left by Shadow Weaver who is her commander and mother respectively.
Light Hope starts being a person Adora searches out to give her some sort of answer and then continues to look to her for orders. Adora falls into a state of objectification due Light Hope treating Adora as mostly a weapon to act out her programming. Adora is generally willing to follow her and even starts to be casual with her, seen in Protocol (4x05). Adora wants to do well and be better than what she understands Mara to be starting in Light Hope (1x12). Adora goes to her for answers most notably when in The Coronation (4x01) Shadow Weaver reveals Adora is a First One.
Adora feels betrayed when in Hero (4x09) she learns that being She Ra in the way Light Hope pushed her was harmful. Not only does this sever her relationship it also causes more identity issues and is a re-traumatization of betrayal trauma.
They have a confrontation in Destiny pt 2 (4x13) were Adora stands up and tries to assert her identity, and the part of Light Hope that did care for her shine through and tell Adora to shatter the sword. All of these experiences leave Adora feeling more objectified, guilty and with another betrayal wound.
Angella stands in for the mother part of Shadow Weaver and is a healthier version. Angella starts off holding Adora not becoming emotionally close or trusting. Adora doesn’t try to get emotionally close but does search for trust. We see this in Adora’s open willingness to lose everything to rescue Glimmer (No Princess Left Behind 1x09)
They don’t interact much but during season 3 Adora offers respect and Angella tends to return it. In The Price of Power (3x01) we see Angella protect Adora. Understanding the pain and trauma Adora went through enough to try and stop Shadow Weaver from getting to talk to Adora.
During The Portal (3x06) Angella tells Adora how brave she has been and gives her life up to protect everyone and in Adora's place saving her life. Angella gives the parting comfort of holding Adora's face a similar action to one Shadow Weaver uses but there is compassion behind it. She also gives the parting advice of “take care of each other” one Adora fully misunderstands. The reason they never fully attached was partially Angella’s preoccupation with her own daughter and also Adora’s internalized need to be a hero and objectification. They never gain a healthy motherly nor mentor ability to attune. These are why Adora reads her “take care of each other” wording to be Adora must take care of Glimmer.
Bow
Bow and Adora generally have stable relationships, never having a moment of severe rupture in their relationships. Bow generally is friendly and supportive to Adora and most people in both their group dynamics and one-on-one bonds. In the final few episodes of season 4 and beginning of season 5, we see that Bow and Adora get along well acting as a duo. One of the main ways this dynamic show is how Bow cared for Adora when she was failing to take care of herself in Horde Prime (5x01) and Launch (5x02). Bow doesn’t always understand but cares greatly and is the primary partner when it comes to dealing with First One's technology.
They have different ways of handling situations and people like in season 4 when Adora’s is focused solely in solving her own destiny and stopping the heart whereas Bow is searching for Entrapta because he doesn’t believe in leaving “friends” behind. Seen in Beast Island (4x11) when Bow attempted to get Entrapta with a sappy speech and Adora is pragmatic. Adora also comments of Bow’s social intelligence is different from hers in Stranded (5x4)
Overall, Bow while not always understanding is generally supportive and able to give Adora strength via his pep talks.
Glimmer
Adora and Glimmer’s relationship is generally strong and displays healthy dynamics in season 1-3 and again in season 5. During season 4 they experience an episode of relational rupture. The main issues underlying this rupture are the loss of queen Angella’s and the disparate ways they believe they ought to be leading.
Adora was told to “take care of each other” by Angella in The Portal (3x06) but interpreted this as “take care of you [Glimmer]” (The Coronation, 4x01). Adora takes this seriously having spent her whole life as a protector and leader. Being a protector is a core belief of Adora's along with being compelled to honor a woman she respected. Glimmer is deeply affected by the loss of her mother and pushed herself to properly fill her shoes as queen and be a proper general. They are both absorbed in their respective grief.
The other layer shows up in what they do when it comes to the war against the Horde. Adora is working to be the concept of She-Ra this can sometimes lead to blind spots on what others are doing. Glimmer on the other hand often misunderstands Adora’s need to be She Ra and sometimes forgets how to explain her needs. Glimmer is also more willing to play real war where Adora is in the magic realm.
These issues cause strife up until Glimmer angrily pushes Adora too far in Boys' Night Out (4x08) blaming her for the loss of Angella. Adora is understandably hurt and then tries to hyper-focus on having to save the day. She falls back on the pattern of implicit memories of being the martyr and hero.
Glimmer’s angry words mirror Catra's from their past. Centering on needing to be the hero. With both of them, it’s a slight misread of what Adora actually needs to do. She does need to be the hero, the leader, and save the day but not because she is self-important but because that is what she has built her entire identity on from when she was a child. She has experienced objectification her entire life and changing from this perspective isn’t something easily done. Glimmer and Adora both feel the need to prove something and carry weight too big for them and Glimmer lashes out while Adora lashes in making Adora obsessed with saving everyone
Glimmer tries hard to support Adora in season 5 and is willing to do repair work from her mistreatment in Boys Night Out (4x08) and her mistakes in Destiny pt 1/2 (4x12-13). Adora is willing to let Glimmer back in easily, some of that might be Adora not focusing on her own hurt but was also healing.
Glimmer and Adora went through a deep time of grief and strife and came out with a strong bond and maintained their care for each other.
Catra
Adora’s relationship with Catra is the most defining one. This relationship depicts a romance torn apart by war as well as showing two children in an abusive family. This dynamic is part of the complexity of their attachments.
Catra was Adora's primary attachment following Shadow Weaver, being her mother. From being a baby Catra was her primary relationship and her only source of love. In conjunction with their attachments they fill roles in an abusive family, Adora plays the golden child and Catra is the scapegoat. Shadow Weaver and The Horde pushed Adora to feel responsible for protecting Catra. Another layer to this is how Shadow Weaver set up Catra as essentially belonging to Adora (Promise 1x11).
Adora and Catra's disparate views on Shadow Weaver and the Horde system caused strife between them as Adora wanted to be the leader, hero and was often given this title which forced to Catra feel sidelined. Adora is not always aware of what she is doing or how she is affecting Catra emotionally as well as struggling to understand Catra (Sword Pt 1 1x01, Promise 1x11, Corridors 5x03). But the intention isn’t to be upsetting to Catra but to fulfill her duty and show her love.
Adora has attachment trauma caused by her upbringing, and she heavily shares this with Cata to be inherently disorganized and breeds traumatic bonding, neither is at fault. After their relational rupture in the start of season 1, Adora continuously wants to be with Catra still as she is her primary attachment and someone she loves deeply.
However, even with the attachment trauma related to each other, we see Adora be willing to maintain some boundaries making Catra open up to her in the end. Putting her needs first after The Portal incident. (Remember & Portal 3x05-6).
We see the relationship’s strength in Save The Cat (5x05) Adora being able to break through the effects of the medical and psychological abuse and showing both strength and vulnerability. In Taking Control (5x06) we get some of the strongest relationships scenes of Adora meeting Catra halfway but requiring Catra offering back the strength and vulnerability Adora gave. (Save The Cat & Taking Control 5x05-6)
In the next few episodes, we see them bond and Adora fall back into a mostly easy connection with her closest friend. In Failsafe (5x11) we see Adora being willing to admit she needs Catra and tries to rebuff Shadow Weaver’s attempted manipulation of their connection. We see Adora lose so much strength when Catra leaves again. Their relationships deep connection and Catra's ability to remind Adora she has something to live for ends up saving the day in Heart pt 2(5x13)
While I deeply enjoy their relationship there are some risks in it. Traumatic bonding and enmeshment are the base of their relationship and this has a higher probability to cause relational rupture down the line. Of the two Adora’s side is a bit healthier as Adora has some degree of identity without Catra and has formed attachments to Bow and Glimmer that are more stable. If Adora continues to heal from her need to suffer from others and maintains healthy connections outside I don't think it will be inherently traumatic.
Catra
General
Catra has a disorganized attachment style. Her ability to attach was compromised due to her primary attachment object being Shadow Weaver as her Mother. Her approach and avoid messages came from the same place, and any adults she would have tried to connect with would have been cold and militaristic. Children have to have a safe place and person to return to as they explore but Catra never had this, and this broken trust and attunement ability she struggles to attune to almost anyone else. Another layer is like many disorganized people she can experience enmeshment where identity and core ideas become overlapped with another person.
Cadets
The other cadets treated Catra poorly growing up, shown when Adora leaves Lonnie Says “Adora’s not here to protect you anymore” (Razz 1x03.) At first, Catra generally distances herself from them but as she sits in her place of relative power she starts to turn the bullying and abuse back to them. This is an abusive turnaround and not common from nowhere even if Kyle tried to say so telling her they “used to be friends” (Destiny pt 1 4x12) this isn’t what happened. In flashbacks in Promise (1x11) Catra was excluded from the group and catra often got in fights with them (Corridors 5x03)
Next to Scorpia, Lonnie is the person who suffers from Catra’s abusive behavior. We see this especially in Protocol (4x05) & Fractures-Destiny pt1 (4x10-12) as Catra ends up putting her paranoid thoughts, anger and fear on her after the loss of Scorpia. As mentioned above this is a bit of a turnaround but more prevalently the pathway of abuse from Hordak above Catra to Catra on Scorpia and Lonnie.
Bow & Glimmer
We see them interact to some degree in Princess Prom (1x08) & No Princess Left Behind (1x09) and it’s mostly in passing. Their first proper interaction comes in Ties That Bind (2x02) where Catra holds most of the power and only becomes dysregulated when Glimmer mentions Adora. But in the end, we see Catra at her most in control and manipulative and Glimmer’s is willing to act out. Catra wins the interaction through her manipulation with Entrapta.
In Destiny pt 2 (4x13) we see Glimmer and Adora both fall apart at the end. Glimmer is the one who sees Catra in a state of completely giving up in a fold state showing willingness to die. Catra is willing to save Glimmer when attacked by Horde Prime.
During episodes, Horde Prime - Corridors (5x01-3) Glimmer and Catra both deals with isolation and are working for pure survival. They handle it in disparate ways Glimmer tries to be the archetypal queen needing to stay strong for her own perception of self. While Catra uses her implicit need to protect herself through playing the game of the person in power. Catra and Glimmer share a few pleasant moments where they discuss what they would do on Etheria offering a level of support. Catra is willing to save Glimmer to prove she has some good in her and for Adora.
At the end of Taking Control 5x06 and Shot in The Dark 5x08, we see Bow and Glimmer being generally positive and making jokes with Catra. They offer positivity only picking fun in good faith. Catra struggles with this due to her own hypervigilance but is willing to return this kindness. In An Ill Wind (5x09) they work together in a fine way to get what they want. They all share the love for Adora that will drive them to the ends of their own strength showing the main thing they have in common. (Save The Cat-Heart pt 2 5x05-13).
Entrapta
Entrapta is an interesting case. From The Beacon-Signals (1x10-2x03) Catra and Entrapta share a relationship that starts with manipulation from Catra in saying that the princess would abandon her to get her on her side, this is also based on Catra's pain (The Beacon 1x10). They work decently together but Catra continues to struggle to form a healthy friendship finding Entrapta a bit grating and her generalized trust deficits. Catra can be mean to her but still offers some protection to Entrapta. (Signals 2x03). Their relationship totally breaks down from Catra’s perspective as of Light Spinner (2x06) as she feels replaced in Hordak’s eyes, replaying her base trauma from her attachment to Shadow Weaver.
Entrapta is unaware of Catra’s trauma or her pattern of harming others to handle her own pain. This leaves Entrapta vulnerable, and she is only fully aware when she is banished to Beast Island by Catra in Moment of Truth (3x04).
They interact fully again in Taking Control (5x06) where Catra’s hypervigilance and recent medical trauma has her fearful of what Entrapta’s will do to her when removing the chip. After Entrapta is able to remove Catra is willing to apologize and Entrapta easily accepts it.
Double Trouble
Double Trouble and Catra have a relationship built-in transactional stating in their first meeting in The Valley of the Lost (4x02). This continuous but Double Trouble is also able to make Catra laugh and Catra finds her easy to communicate with as there isn't a need for the same attachment patterns as normal relationships. (Flutterina-Princess Scorpia 4x03-6).
Double Trouble then is captured and Catra becomes worried about being abandoned by them as part of an episode of depression and panic episode after having been left by Scorpia (Fractures 4x10). Catra is surprised to see Double Trouble and Double Trouble notices how broken up catra was and is happy to point out Catra's fears of abandonment. (Destiny pt 1) Double Troubles transactional nature turns against Catra in the same episode as they sell out Catra for their own safety.
Double Trouble can't help but get in a final scene pointing out to Catra how she has driven everyone [Adora, Scorpia, Shadow Weaver & Hordak] away and that she has been wearing a mask this whole time.
Scorpia
Scorpia suffers from the fall out of Catra’s symptoms dealing with Catra’s tendency to replay her abuse. Catra is never fully able to let Scorpia in, while Scorpia desperately wants Catra to like her. Scorpia has an intense crush on Catra and becomes blind to the abusive behavior due to her self perception as a good friend. Catra is also blinded to the kindness being offered to her due to a warped perception of others and her leaning into the abusive programming of her childhood.
Throughout season 1 we see Catra generally keep Scorpia at an arm's length but Scorpia becomes attached when Catra shows her any attention like in Princess Prom (1x08), though Catra is upset about Adora and is default supportive of Scorpia. In season 2 we see Scorpia be very helpful to Catra and Catra does start to lean on her in Signals (2x03) and Catra even starts to recognize the affection in White Out (2x05). But fear and repeating abusive behaviors damage her relationships to a more abusive footing as Catra lashes out due to Shadow Weaver and Hordak's behavior.
We have two important moments in season 3’s episode Once Upon A Time in the Crimson Waste (3x03) and Moment of Truth (3x04). In Once Upon A Time in the Crimson Waste (3x03) we see how their relationship could be, Scorpia noting that this is the first time she’s seen Catra even be happy and that she could leave. Any chance of comfort is broken when Catra suffers a breakdown and lashes out. In a Moment of Truth (3x04) Catra hurts Entrapta deeply and threatens Catra followed by almost killing everyone in a moment of suicidality and homicidal tendencies. This fractures their relationships irrevocably.
Season 4 Catra spirals into only focusing on winning the war and being willing to use every one. She lashes out insulting Catra and putting her as her stress relief demeaning her. Scorpio recognized this finally in Princess Scorpia (4x06) telling Catra’s she’s a bad friend, a deep insult from Scorpia. This is one of the final straws that breaks Catra's fragile hold on functionality in Boys' Night Out (4x08).
Catra realizes the harm she’s done in season five though the relationship is less active in the finale season. But it was formative in moving Catra to a place where she could be better.
Hordak
Hordak and Catra’s relationship changes extremely throughout the show. In season one and presumably throughout their childhood he is a powerful influence that guides their actions but is more of a force than a person. He takes Catra into the higher sections of the power structure seeing her promise in being a force captain which is hugely important to Catra as it validates her need for attention and recognition.
Throughout season 2 he acts as a secondary abuser to Shadow Weaver, she seeks out his approval wanting to be able to be on the same level with him protecting herself from the insinuation she lacks his trust. (2x01-3, White Out 3x05 & Light Spinner 3x06) Catra shows fear to him and even tries to protect Entrapta from him originally in Signals (2x03). We see her also be very hurt by Hordak choosing Entrapta over her throughout season two.
Due to Catra still being very attached to Shadow Weaver we see Catra attempt to protect Shadow Weaver but at this point, she is still acting in fear of Hordak trying to avoid his anger at her culminating in him catching, assaulting and imprisoning her in Reunion (2x07).
After this we see Catra be apathetic towards anything going on with him being in a state of depression and anger. She is reckless and is willing to call him out for being a coward and risk whatever he will do, breaking through the programmed fear. (The Price of Power 3x01 Once Upon A Time in The Crimson Waste 3x03)
Catra lies to Hordak during her break down to be able to pull the lever (Moment of truth 3x04).
When they regroup after The Portal incident Hordak tries to continue using fear of Catra, but she overcomes the past fear almost completely and takes him on breaking his suit and partially disabling him. (The Coronation 4x01) She uses her knowledge of her own power and puts them on a more equal footing. Catra is the right hand but equal from his perspective until Destiny pt1 (4x12) where Hordak Says “we will control all of Etheria” and “victory is ours”. However, even this equality is partially a facade due to Hordak being an abuser to Catra for years and treating her as under him up until the last few episodes and Catra using the lie about Entrapta to claw back power after he rejected her before.
Catra starts to identify with Hordak telling him “you and me we don’t need anyone” (Princess Scorpia 4x06). She is trying to get him to finish their mission and has rejected any connection to others but in her rant, she is also still trying to prove herself saying “they’ll all see ''. This is similar to how Hordak wants to not be seen as defective. This identification also extends to her tendencies of following patterns of abusive behavior, at the height of identification her abusive behavior is at its worst.
The identification and manipulation come to a head when they fight in Destiny pt 2 (4x12) after Double Trouble reveals Catra’s lies. The fight is both a power struggle and a depressive and anger-fueled breakdown. At least on Catra’s part, the outcome is similar to what happened after the portal (Once Upon a Time in the Waste-The Portal 3x03-6). Hordak’s anger was comes from him placing some a level of trust in Catra and her rejecting that.
This fight is reckless and leaves Catra mentally and physically battered, an important moment that sets up her actions in season 5.
During her imprisonment with Horde Prime, they connect over her being able to tell him from the other Horde clones. They also both suffer similar religious and medical assaults from Horde Prime. They have little interaction after their plotlines diverge. Though both deal with ideas of autonomy.
Adora
Cat's entire world is centered around Adora. Her continued existence was tied to her relationship to Adora from Shadow Weaver’s perspective (Promise 1x11). As a child, Adora was her entire world and the only person to ever show her kindness. This leads her to experience an extreme enmeshment and traumatic bonding that leads to identity and relational struggles.
An early difference between them is the way Catra never had an ideological commitment to the Horde vs Adora who had a belief system to break. This difference is one of the first cracks in their relationship to Catra viewing the betrayal of Adora in personal terms. Due to the fact, Catra finds the idea that the Horde was hurting people obvious due to horrendous abuse she suffered as a child so Adora left her and downplayed their trauma in one go. (The Sword pt 1/2 1x01-2)
Catra spends much of the first season splitting on Adora going between wanting her back, protecting her, shoving her away and eventually proclaiming false independence. This is a trait of her symptom pattern due to her developmental trauma. A slightly less extreme splitting episode happens after they became close again (Return to the Fright Zone-Heart pt 1 5x10-12)
In her most violence breakdown in Remember (3x05) & The Portal (3x06) where Catra’s locus of control has broken down to being all about Adora’s actions. Adora rejects the blame and this forms another form of rupture in their connection.
Catra never fully stops being dependent on Adora for her sense of self and actions. She heavily places weight on what Adora did, what Adora would think, how to get Adora’s attention and ways to prove she’s better. Even when angry at her Catra has a need to base decisions off showing Adora her worth and strength (Princess Prom 1x08 & Princess Scorpia 4x06).
In the final arc of the show Catra has positive changes in her behavior and emotions. However, she still hasn’t fully learned boundaries; her decision to change was spurred on by flashbacks to her co-dependence on Adora in her childhood (Corridors 5x03). Their relationship starts to heal through Adora keeping up a level of boundaries and Catra being willing to admit she needs Adora (Taking Control 5x06). Throughout the rest of the season, Catra’s behavior is still centered around how Adora views Catra in their ability to work together and then the rupture after fearing Adora would choose her duty over Catra again and the misperception Adora lacked as strong feelings for Catra as she did for her. (Failsafe & Heart pt 1 5x11-12)
We see their relationship mature over this last season and the romantic aspect taking centre stage ending with their kissing help both of them maintain a connection reality in The Heart pt 2 (5x13)
Her love for Adora is important and something that kept her strong and can be healing. However, the relationship is still subject to dysfunction due to Adora the key to Catra’s core beliefs and schemas. Learning to have their strong connection be a strength while maintaining boundaries will be the key to this relationship being healing.
[Will cover Shadow Weaver and the girls in pt 3]
#acat#fandom:#she ra#topic:#abuse and media#trauma media#meta#relationships#ship:#catradora#catra/adora#catra & adora#Adora & glimmer#Adora & bow#Catra & scorpia#Adora & LIght Hope#Catra & Glimmer#Catra & Bow#Catra & Entrapta#Catra & Hordak#Character:#catra#adora#bow#glimmer#scorpia#Lonnie#Light Hope#Hordak#Entrapta
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The Longest One Hundred and Sixty-Eight Hours (a Veronica Mars one shot)
Part of my Spanning Years. Continents. series.
FFN II AO3
Summary: While out on deployment Logan's squad is attacked and Veronica gets a call: he's missing. So starts the clock on the longest week of her life.
The Longest One Hundred and Sixty-Eight Hours
The call came in on the landline at the office and Veronica barely registered the concerned tone as Mac let her know that there was a Commander Eduardo Ruiz who had asked specifically for her. They were close enough to San Diego that it wasn't abnormal to have clients from the base. She just had to make sure that she toed the confidentiality line with her Naval Aviator boyfriend at home. Depending on the situation the lines could cut too close, but sometimes it worked in their favour. There'd been a time or two that Mars Investigation had gained a client because of Logan. Once by direct referral and a second one that had heard about them through the grapevine, as it were. Deployment left their Skype sessions short and sacred, so it was easy to believe that it had simply slipped his mind to tell her that he was sending someone her way.
Except he hadn't.
This wasn't wasn't a call for her services.
Veronica felt her world shift dangerously as Commander Eduardo Ruiz informed her that Lieutenant Logan Echolls' F/A-18 Hornet had been struck by enemy fire while over an undisclosed location. Both he and his Weapons System Officer Dave Riley had successfully ejected. The rescue team had found the remains of the Hornet, but there were signs of a possible struggle on the ground and neither Lieutenant Echolls nor Riley had been found as of yet. She was listed as his next-of-kin and they would let her know as soon as they had an update.
Commander Ruiz's voice was terrifyingly calm and stiff as he spoke, the words rehearsed, possibly even scripted. If he knew Logan or had any attachment to him at all, Veronica had no idea, and he couldn't answer any questions that she rattled off at him. There had certainly been a few. For each one he gave the same answer: the United States Navy was doing everything in their power to recover their two missing officers. He might as well have been saying that he was looking for a needle dropped into some Iraqi desert.
Veronica supposed that Commander Ruiz indicated that he was going to end the call before he actually did, but she found herself sitting at her desk with the phone still pressed to her ear and gaze fixed on nothing in particular in front of her, terror ripping through every vein.
Logan was missing.
He'd been shot down by enemy fire and he was missing in some foreign land that Veronica had no contacts in and no reach to. She could feel that realization - that helplessness - press down so firmly against her that someone might as well have punched her in the gut. She couldn't breathe, and while her mind was going a million miles a second, nothing of any use was making it through.
"Veronica?" Mac asked tentatively and the blonde woman blinked, finally registering that the line was dead in her ear and one of her two best friends was standing at the door to her office, her tone hesitant and her expression worried. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, it's -" She stopped mid-sentence. She could lie to Mac, tell her everything was fine, but unless they found him in the next five seconds before she visibly cracked it'd be really hard to explain. The thing was she wasn't sure she had it in her to actually tell her the truth either. It was anything but okay, but even though she had heard it, even though the terrible understanding was spinning around in her mind like a record skipping, saying it out loud made it real. Forcing her mind to sort the words from the chaos, formulate sounds that would bubble up to her tongue and escape through her lips made it real. So Veronica found herself stammering with her mouth open, nothing escaping her but a couple of dry, half-attempts at words that she couldn't even decide on, and suddenly her vision blurred.
Somewhere in the distance, almost like down a tunnel, Veronica heard Mac call her name. "Is he….?"
"I don't know," she gasped, feeling strange and hot tears slide down her cheeks without having anything remotely close to permission to be there. "They don't know."
"They don't…. I'm sorry. I'm confused," Mac managed and Veronica heard her circle the desk more than saw it. She blinked hard and it helped a little. "How do they not know?"
"He's missing. He and Riley are missing," she managed, hating how raw and terrified she sounded. "There was a fight and a crash and…."
Veronica looked up and she must have looked like hell from the way that Mac's confusion crumbled into worry. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. Logan's crazy stubborn. They'll find him."
If she believed it in that moment or not was anybody's best guess, but Veronica's usual BS meter was cracked and broken on the floor beneath the weight of the unknown.
"I need answers," Veronica breathed, even as the dial tone sang out from the phone still clutched in her hand laid out on her desk. She couldn't seem to find the will to move to return it to the cradle.
"I don't think we can get those," Mac answered, her voice equally as quiet. "You're the first person they'll call, right?"
Veronica's tear-filled gaze snapped over to her friend and she couldn't bring herself to feel guilty as Mac flinched back at it. "I need answers."
"Okay," Mac whispered, nodding as she spoke. "Okay. Then tell me everything you know and I'll find you everything I can."
--------
Veronica swore that when - not if, when- Logan got home, she'd never let something pesky like national security get in the way of her drilling him for information again. As it stood now, he had told her as much as he said he could. They were in the Middle East - sure, small area. Only a few hot spots. Super easy to find a downed jet in all of that desert. What was the Navy thinking? - and halfway through deployment. Maybe she should start with his squadron. They had been together before Logan had tumbled back into her life - before she'd tumbled back into his? - but he usually talked about them by their call signs.
There was Coma from East Texas with his painfully slow drawl that Logan and the rest of the guys gave him so much shit over, Kasper that made snow look tan, Siesta that could fall asleep anywhere, and ALF - annoying little fuck - that just wouldn't shut up. There were more, but she only knew Riley by his given name, and even that was turning up with nothing except a couple that Mac thought were probably his parents out in the Midwest. Not that they'd have any more information than Veronica had been given. Hence being updated as Logan's next-of-kin.
Mac was a saint for the effort she was putting into the search, given what little Veronica could provide. They were well into the zone, treating it like any other case when Keith had come back into the office. He must have called out to one or both of them at least a couple of times because Veronica didn't look up - jumped might be a more accurate description, but she'd never admit to it - until he knocked on her desk as if he were knocking on a door. "Something come in while I was out?"
It was a blessing in disguise, that focus, and she rattled it off with only a twinge of pain on the outskirts of the words until she realized her father was dead silent. She didn't acknowledge it until he circled her desk and he stooped down to wrap his arms around her. His was a normal reaction, she knew. It was terrible news. Riley's family was probably in tears and utterly unable to do anything other than wait by the phone for any update that the Navy could possibly give them, and while she'd finally managed to put the phone back on the hook at some point so that a call could come through, there she was trying to track down the non-existent trails that would never actually lead to Logan. Still, it was better than sitting idly by. That would drive her insane.
What was it Logan had said back in college? I'm not built to stand on the sidelines. Well, neither was she. She had to do something. Thankfully Keith didn't try to talk her down from the frenzy.
It was late before Veronica finally relented to the truth that they weren't finding anything new on their end that night. Her father tried to convince her to come back to his place so that she wouldn't have to be alone while waiting for the news. She had Pony home, she reminded him, and while she and Logan had paid their pet deposit that they'd never get back, her dad hadn't. No need to bring an oversized puppy that still thought pieces of furniture were his chew toys to his place. Instead, Mac had managed to convince her to let her sleep on the couch. At least Veronica hoped she slept, because she sure didn't. No, that first night she'd gone into the dresser, pulled out one of his favourite t-shirts, and slipped it on to lay with her cheek pressed into his pillow. He'd already been gone for three months. It wasn't like there was any real trace of him there, but if she tried hard enough she could imagine it. And if she turned her back to his side of the bed she could almost pretend that he was laid curled up on his side, breathing softly and steadily. Alive and safe and home.
The next night, after a day of equally useless information that was really none at all, Wallace had pushed his way into the situation and had taken up Mac's exhausted place on her couch.
It was the earliest hours of the morning when Veronica's cell phone started singing next to her bed, dragging her out of the restless sleep filled with worst-case-scenarios playing out in her mind's eye. She didn't even look at the caller ID as she slammed her thumb against the accept button. "Hello?"
Commander Ruiz was on the line again in that same rehearsed tone, but somehow, even with no real reflection in his voice to speak of, the words felt lighter. They'd been found. Both Logan and Riley. They had been transferred to a Naval hospital there in the Middle East. Next steps would depend on the extent of their injuries, but if all went well they would be transferred back stateside rather than moving to a medical ship or a hospital on a European base. While Veronica would have preferred the news to have been closer to Logan's in San Diego right this second, she would take alive and on foreign soil versus the unspeakable alternative without hesitation.
She had assumed it would be Ruiz with another update when the number lit her phone up the next day and Veronica had to stop and check herself at the familiar voice filtered over the bad connection. "Logan?" she breathed, pretty sure she wasn't dreaming.
"Hey." He sounded tired, his voice a little hoarse.
She gripped the phone tighter in her hand. "Are you okay?" They still hadn't given her any details other than that he'd been found and was alive. If he was hurt or how badly, she had no idea.
"More or less. Listen, I can't talk long, but I just…. needed to hear your voice."
Veronica swallowed hard, willing her voice to work. To tell him she needed to hear his too and that she needed him home right then. He didn't give her a chance as he cleared his throat.
"And to ask you not to be pissed."
Okay, that wasn't what she'd expected. "Why would I -?"
"I'm coming home," he said firmly, which only made his statement a moment earlier more confusing. "They were talking about sending me today."
"That's good news, right?"
She heard a sound from the other end of the line. "Yeah. One sec," he called back to someone on his end of the line before speaking directly onto the phone. "Veronica…."
"Still here."
"They wanna send me home, but Riles is gonna take a few more days. We had to eject. He… snapped his leg on the landing. He always hated those jumps."
"Bet he really does now," Veronica breathed, her mind calling up the image of the man that literally had Logan's back in the air. She liked Riley. He was sharp, with a wit that could match Logan's and a quirky and sometimes twisted sense of humour that was apparently born from a need to stand out among ten siblings. From what she could see, he'd also become one of the most loyal people to enter Logan's life after she had left for Stanford. They were close. "Is he going to be okay?"
"I hope so. He's in surgery now and they said it's going to be a long one. I don't wanna be gone when he wakes up, you know?"
"I know." She hated the words as they slipped out, but she knew how selfish it would have been to say anything else. Right then, she wanted to be selfish. She wanted to tell him to get his ass home so that she could hold onto him like she'd never let go.
"Veronica?"
"Yeah?"
"I gotta go."
"Call me when you can?"
"Yeah. Love you."
And then the line was dead, leaving Veronica sitting alone on the couch in their apartment. She squeezed her eyes shut, the last forty-eight hours' roller coaster of emotions washing over her as she tried to steady herself. "Love you too," she whispered into the empty living room.
--------
She spoke to him at least for a couple of minutes a day until he came home, but even hearing his voice on the other end of the line wasn't enough to keep the darker parts of her mind from playing tricks on her. She remembered how it had twisted her around during his first deployment after they had gotten back together, but at least then the dangers had all been theoretical. Sure, he was fighting a war and sure enemy aircraft or ships or what-have-you could take a shot at him and send him spiraling towards the unrelenting ground below. She knew that, and on some days it felt more real than others, but even after hearing his voice and that he'd made it out of this close call mostly intact Veronica needed to see him with her own eyes.
The first time he had come back from deployment it had been on the ship he'd left out on, but this time he and Riley were sent home on a transport plane that was due in late in the afternoon. Veronica had spent the entire day jittery and had driven down to San Diego with hours to spare. Wallace, Mac, and her dad had all offered to help with anything she needed from puppy duty to going with her so that she wouldn't have to wait alone. She'd declined the latter, instead opting to become well acquainted with the accelerator in Logan's BMW. Thankfully the PCH wasn't being heavily patrolled or she would have had to pay a mint for the ticket dealt out.
It felt like forever before Logan arrived safely and securely on the ground. He was on his feet when she saw him, left arm in a sling and bruises darkened under his eye and down along his jawline on the right side of his face. He looked exhausted, but still better than Riley who was stuck in a wheelchair with a cast nearly all the way up his leg. That was gonna suck. Probably already did, if he was due for pain meds anytime soon.
Logan spotted her and Veronica felt a rush of relief at that smile. She took off towards him, having to force herself to stop rather than latch her arms around his neck to hold on tight. He'd finally given her a list of his injuries - the worst being a torn muscle in his shoulder and a concussion - and she didn't want to risk hurting him.
He didn't seem to have the same hold up. Logan covered the last few steps and wrapped his uninjured arm around her, pulling her in more than up and leaned in for a kiss. Veronica's arms slid around his middle, fingers digging into the fabric of his uniform as she pulled him deeper into it. They stayed there in that moment, neither willing to let go of the other even as she heard Riley shout a joke about waiting till they had a room from off to the side. Logan loosed his grip on her and Veronica was pretty sure he shot Riley the bird, only confirmed by the other man's chuckle.
Veronica finally - reluctantly - broke the kiss. "You okay?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yeah. Let's talk when we get home."
She nodded and turned towards Riley. "How ya doin', Riley?"
"I gave as good as I got," the Weapons System Officer promised with a shit-eating grin.
"Oh yes. The ground never saw him coming," Logan answered, a smirk tugging at his lips and one eyebrow quirked up at his friend. "You sure we can't give you a ride?"
"Nah. My folks flew in. Apparently going MIA warrants a flight in from the homeland."
Veronica snorted. "Aren't you from Nebraska?"
He gave a casual shrug and a noncommittal mehbefore he started wheeling himself towards a small group of people that Veronica could only assume were his family if the collection of redheads were anything to go by. He offered a quick wave as he rolled forward. "See you in a couple days."
"Yeah," Logan huffed the response, his voice low enough that Riley probably hadn't even heard it.
Veronica turned back to him, watching the smile leave his eyes first, exhaustion taking its place, and then his thin lips evened out into a straight line. She touched his arm. "Let's go home."
Thankfully it didn't take much to get back to the car and off the base. Logan asked her to keep the top down on the BMW, even if he wasn't the one driving. She glanced over every handful of minutes as they started up the PCH, watching as he slowly relaxed into the seat. His eyes drifted closed, the lines in his face softened a little, and it was everything she could do not to reach out to him. Finally, she lost her battle and her hand slid over of its own volition to his knee. He startled in his place, but only for a moment, and settled back in as he moved his right arm across his body so that it could rest on her hand. Apparently she wasn't the only one craving touch at that moment.
The sun was setting by the time they got home and Veronica and Logan took the stairs up to their apartment slowly. She frowned as she fit the keys into the lock and turned only to find it already unlocked. She pushed the door open and loosed a relieved breath at the sight of her father refilling Pony's food bowl, the leash laid out on the counter. Keith looked as startled as she felt, straightening with a grimace, and turned fully towards them. "Hey. I didn't know what time you two would be here." His gaze drifted past Veronica. "Logan. Good to see you home."
"Good to be home," he answered, his voice quiet and more than a little tired.
"I won't keep you. I brought some Thai over. It's in the fridge if you get hungry."
"You didn't need to do that, Dad," Veronica tried and her father gave a small smile.
"I wanted to. Mac and I'll hold down the fort for the next few days. Take your time. And if you need anything -"
"Pretty sure I know your number," she promised, the corners of her lips tugging up and she wrapped a hug around her dad's neck before letting him slip out their front door, the cane he still leaned on after the car wreck sounding softly as he eased his way down the stairs. Three flights weren't easy for him to climb to drop off food and feed a puppy. He'd wanted to check on them. Not just her, but both of them, and there was something comforting in that knowledge.
Logan loosed a long breath, drawing her attention around as he moved slowly into the apartment. He dropped to a knee to greet Pony with a scratch behind the ears and a few soft words before straightening again. "Thai sounds amazing right about now."
"Don't have that on your ship, do ya?"
"Definitely not."
Or in the desert when you're missing for nearly thirty-six hours.Yeah, that probably wasn't the best way to lead into reminding him that he'd told her they'd talk when they got home. She wanted to. More than anything she wanted to hear every inch of what had happened, but while Logan was a fan of talking about nearly anything, when it came to his own personal traumas he tended to toss out a flippant remark and keep his feelings to himself. He knew her. He knew she was dying to ask, but she knew him too, and he probably hadn't given himself time to even start processing until they were back on US soil. Hence the reason he looked so damn tired.
They ate in silence, Veronica not trusting herself to hold back the questions. She wasn't sure how long had passed as she shoveled mouthful after mouthful of food, glancing over to see that Logan had stopped altogether. His brows were drawn tightly, his lips pulled down at the corners, and his grip on the chopsticks was firm. "I'm sorry," he breathed after a long moment.
"What for?"
"Scaring you. I'm guessing I probably scared you." He finally turned to look at her, those soft brown eyes making it hard to breathe.
"Understatement," she answered softly, "but it wasn't your fault."
"We, uh… We were so focused on the aerial fight that we missed what was happening on the ground. He was on Doc and ALF's tail, Riles and I took the guy out, but there was fire from below. They didn't have to eject, we did." Logan swallowed hard, clearly having trouble trying to get through the story he knew she wanted and Veronica did her best to keep her expression even. She reached out, her hand against his, and he set his chopsticks down to thread his fingers through her own and continue. "We got lucky. I mean, Riles might call bullshit. He's the one with a broken leg, but there weren't too many on the ground where we landed. We got out alive, laid low, and they found us."
There weren't too many on the ground. Right. Okay. Maybe she didn't want to know how he'd busted his shoulder and gotten a concussion. The little he'd told her was a lot to digest, and he'd been doing it by himself for the last week. Well, him and Riley.
"I didn't know about Doc and ALF. I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Those were fun calls."
Right. He was their squad leader. While someone above his head probably made the calls while he was MIA, Logan would have followed up with the families. For all of the responsibilities he skirted as a teenager, he took on even more while serving in the Navy. She'd never gotten the full story on exactly where the change had happened, and maybe it was because real change never happens at a single point in a person's life. She knew that somewhere in his sophomore year at Hearst he had bottomed out and he'd landed in ROTC. He'd met Riley there and Riley had been the one to steer him towards aviation. Logan had said once or twice that Riley had saved his life, and Veronica had always wondered if that wasn't just up in the clouds.
"Part of the job," Logan murmured and squeezed her hand. "Funerals'll be the hardest. That's in a couple of days."
Ah. So that's what Riley has meant. Veronica hadn't thought that they'd demand him back at work quite that quickly. Not while he was on medical leave. At least she'd hoped that they wouldn't. The idea of only having a day or two with him after all of this tied her stomach up in knots.
She pursed her lips together. "I'm selfish," she admitted softly, catching his confused gaze at the seemingly abrupt statement. "I hate that they're gone. I know they meant a lot to you, but…." She closed her eyes, struggling to find the words. She felt like such an asshole voicing them. These were people that he cared about, people that other people cared about. They weren't just names or call signs. They were good guys. Logan respected them, and even prefacing that she felt selfish for saying this didn't make it any better.
"Hey." She opened her eyes to find him looking directly at her. "You're good. You just listened to me. It's your turn."
She reached her free hand up to the side of his face, her fingers curling around bruised skin carefully. "These have been the longest hundred and sixty-eight hours of my life. I thought I'd lost you. Before, every time something split us apart, we could come back from it. Nine years and we came back from it, but…"
The words she'd meant to say got stuck in her throat, a sob choking them down, and Logan leaned his forehead against hers. "I'm here," he promised. "When our plane got hit, when we ejected…. all I could think about was you. About how I couldn't die not having seen you again. Veronica." He waited until she looked at him. "I love you. No matter what happens, it's you. You're the one I'm coming home to, and I'm always going to come home."
She felt the dam break and the tears started to blur her vision. There were so few people she could show anything akin to weakness to, but she saw the same glassy look in Logan's eyes and she leaned forward, her lips pressed against his. She could taste the salt from the tears - hers or his, she couldn't be sure - as he scooted himself off the bar stool. His movements were slow and a little awkward with one arm still firmly secured in the sling, but she followed him back to the bedroom.
One hundred and sixty-eight hours. Seven days. One week.
But tonight she laid curled up against him, her cheek pressed against his chest as his fingers worked their way through her hair. They would face the next challenges when the sun came up. Right then, in that moment, she felt herself finally drifting towards sleep with the steady beat of his heart a reminder that their epic story wasn't over. He was home, he was safe, and he would always come back to her.
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Spar | Vergil x Reader
Reader gets trapped with Dante and Vergil in hell at the end of DMC5, plot twist. They're actually a highly trained assassin from a coven Dante had dismantled. Most people were brainwashed beyond saving but he aaw something within the reader and took them under his wing. More drabble esc writing^^
You couldn't believe you had so foolishly gotten yourself trapped in hell with these two. Sat away from their sparring ring with your eyes closed, you listened to their annoying banter. Dante you had known for a great deal of time, he was your boss after all. While his twin, Vergil, was new to you. You didn't know what to make of him yet. He was quiet and tactical, both qualities you appreciated greatly when compared to his brothers dull witted humor. "Where did you learn to count?" Vergil demanded of his brother as Dante laughed and fell to the ground. "Same place as you brother. I need a break though." He sighed out, clearly out of breath. Vergil was still on his feet and you could hear him turn to you. "Up." He demanded, a command which you did not heed. You simply opened your eyes and looked in his direction. Vergil in turn pointed his blade at you and made a soft up motion. His gaze piercing you. "Do you truly wish to be beaten a third time?" You mused. Unbeknownst to Vergil, you had defeated him as Urizen but he had fled before you could seal the deal. And then again as V when you had hunted him down wanting answers. "She has a point." Dante added, sprawled out on the ground like a starfish. "I do not recall these battles, and I am curious of your skills. Please do refresh my memory." Vergil said. You finally rose from your spot, even your most basic of movements graceful and swift. "I don't bother with sparring matches. It's against my code of conduct." You replied and Dante let out a groan. "You never sparred for practice?" Vergil questioned simply because it was clear you learned from somewhere. Which he was right partially, but the coven that which raised you was ruthless. Training only the most cunning of soldiers. Losing a spar meant losing your life. And it was by that code of conduct you still lived by. Only partaking in battles you would finish. Ashamed you had so clumsily failed to kill Urizen and V. Part of you, a part you hated, was glad you failed both times though. "You do not want this fight." You breathed out as a warning. You did not know if you could control your impulses. You could feel the way your muscles twitched and how your mind already raced through every possibility of how this battle could happen. You wouldn't allow yourself to fail again much less you dishonor your own lifeblood. Vergil wasn't one to back down though, both of you carrying the same needlessly prominent pride on your shoulders. He simply got into his battle stance. It was all the invite you needed. Your movements were balanced, incisions precise, and senses heightened in the battle. Vergil was impressed with your keen ability to map out his attacks. He could tell you watched him as he fought with Dante and familiarized yourself with his battle tactics. Dante sat on the sidelines still, making petty comments whenever one of you would get a hit off on each other. It annoyed both of you greatly, adding fuel to the already massively burning fire. But your temper was controlled and had been tested through many years spent in that coven. This battle showed no signs of letting up. "Told you Y/N was one of my finest." Dante whistled. A well timed parry from you was enough to finish the battle as Vergil was forced down onto one knee. You became ensnared with the temptation to finish the battle, and as you raised your sword up your eyes bore into Vergils. Something in you hesitated despite the heat in your heart. The tempered mentality the coven had forced onto your shoulders becoming fuzzy. Dante had well enough been able to tell where the battle was heading and drew a pistol before you could swing the sword down. He fired at your blade twice causing it to knock out of your hands. You surprisingly didn't lose your balance though and stood there in shook while your chest heavily rose and fell. You staggered back and placed a hand on your head, muttering sorry softly before falling to the ground. Your past was stronger than you could fight but somehow you can't bring yourself to cut down your foe… It was possible you already thought of him as a friend in the way you did Dante. That thought irked you, reminding you of how soft you had become since joining Devil May Cry. It made you feel weak. Part of you suddenly got swept into the past, fear setting in that you'd be punished for such an inexcusable failure to win the battle. Dante could tell you needed a moment and went to go grab your blade. He knelt down beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" He questioned, a small amount of concern written on his face. Your mind snapped back to reality and you nodded gently. After that he handed you your blade back softly, hand lingering on yours for a moment. Trying to remind you that you were no longer leading the life you once were. Vergil was already on his feet again and seemed unbothered outwardly by what had just occurred. "Zero to one." He acknowledged, much to your surprise. Vergil, being bountifully overconfident was unaware of your strength. But even more unaware of your ability to adapt and predict. Internally he brushed this spar off, pretending the loss was simply because he underestimated you. Despite that, he found it in himself to admire your tenacity. Before Vergil could question you on where you were trained sludge rose in packs around you. Demons crawling forth from the ground. Dante motioned for you to wait. "We'll take care of this." He reaffirmed, leaving you to recover from your spinning thoughts as the two Sons of Sparda took care of the demons. After the demons had been dealt with, the three of you made a makeshift fire. You internally scoffed at your boss and the fact that he was tired. Attributing his somewhat low stamina, at least compared to yours and Vergils, to his poor choice of time management before the Quipoth had broken Red Grave. He never left the house unless he had to, fed himself poorly, and didn't train. But you wouldn't be so bashful of him out loud since you knew such judgmental thoughts came from a place of insecurity deep within yourself. After Dante was asleep you decided to apologize to Vergil. "I…" You hesitated for a moment, feeling as though an apology might be taken as weakness or not cared for from the stern man who sat beside you. "I'm sorry about earlier. I get caught up in fighting to easily… I understand if you don't want to spar with me again." You admitted. Vergil chuckled and completely took you off guard. "I should have not underestimated you. I applaud you for your dexterity." He said before giving you somewhat of a smirky smile. "I look forward to sparring with you again." He added. You took this as him being genuine albeit a bit awkward since both of you didn't know how to communicate well. Letting out a sigh of relief as you nodded in agreement. "As do I, though I admit I had an upperhand." You said. It was true you were at a slight advantage. After all, Vergil couldn't recall ever fighting you, but you knew how he battled from both his human and demon side. You got to watch him spare Dante as well. "All the more reason to spar again." He replied, seeing you as a challenge. A way to test and further strengthen his power. You nodded in agreement, thinking the same of him. "I do hope you allow me to prove I'm more than just an opponent." He admitted honestly and you had to take a moment to process it. Vergil would never be the type to be incredibly forward with his emotions. So you took this to heart. "Possibly." Was all you could respond with, still having walls of your own built. He seemed satisfied with that answer though. The two of you spent the next few hours resting before Dante woke up. "Think pizza could be delivered down here?" He teased and you rolled your eyes while muttering stupid. Before he could make some stupid quip back like 'didn't catch that' though, you were on your feet. "Rise." You instructed and he laughed. "Oh ho ho, someone's serious. You and Vergil make a little pact while I was out?" He asked, obliging to your somewhat demanding attitude. "No more a pact than it is an obligation to hold a higher score than Vergil." You commented, sorely behind since Vergil and Dante had been sparring for so long. If you were honest though, you just wanted to give Vergil a chance to also learn your attack patterns so next time you sparred you'd both start on an even playing field. It would make the victory sweeter knowing your win didn't come from one sides lack of knowledge. Your brain so trained to improve upon itself that you couldn't even acknowledge the fact that beating Vergil was an achievement. Through your next matches with Dante, Vergil's eyes followed you. But Dante could tell they lingered on you sometimes for too long. At one point he noticed how intense Vergil's stare was and gave his brother a shit eating grin. It cost him a good kick to the stomach, but it was worth it in Dante's eyes. He'd never let his brother live that kind of look down.
#dmc#dmcv#dmc v#dmc5#dmc 5#Devil May Cry 5#Devil May Cry V#dmc vergil#dmc dante#devil may cry vergil#devil may cry dante#vergil sparda#dante sparda#vergil son of sparda#dante son of sparda#sparda twins#vergil x reader#gender neutral reader#devil may cry
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Mistakes
Word Count: 1947
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Summary: Ramirhe Jacora gets sidelined because of a single mistake, all while finding out his request for a padawan has been fulfilled at the worst time possible.
AN: This was written for @celebrate-the-clone-wars prompt Unplugged
Ramirhe Jacora has a cybernetic left leg. He lost his leg protecting Senator Alyeil Laygos of Lothal before the clone wars in a speeder accident. Fitting seeing as how his master, Pavi Bevu, ended up losing both of her arms in an explosion while she was still a padawan. Normally his cybernetic isn’t a problem, he does regular maintenance on it between fights and as long as he doesn’t get too much sand in his leg, it works wonderfully. Thus his problem is as follows, he can’t be near EMP pulses if he wants to keep standing in a fight, which includes droid poppers. If he stands too close, his leg gets shut off and he risks falling over because he can no longer balance. This is something all of his men are aware of, and they’re very careful about their usage of droid poppers.
That’s the current problem he has right now. A droid popper didn’t get thrown far enough, and now he can’t move his leg, “Haar’chak!” Ramirhe Jacora, one of the best lightsaber duelists of his generation, felt his leg get zapped and then felt it lock. His balance was only maintained by the fact that he had planted his left leg in his fighting stance, but it wouldn’t last, especially if he tried to shift his weight at all.
“Who was the di’kitla who threw that droid popper?!” Jasavo had been keeping track of where his General was, and realized that the droid popper was thrown too close to the General. “Bevinn- get the general out of there now!”
Bevinn changed directions on his bike to weave into the droid ranks. “Consider it done, Commander. Hang in there a little bit longer, General.”
“I don’t seem to have a choice, Bevinn.” As Ramirhe said that, he used the force to pull a droid close so that he could slice it in half before he pushed the broken droid into some of its still functioning comrades. It was a risky move that almost led to him falling over.
Just as he stumbled, Bevinn pulled him onto the speeder. “Welcome aboard, General. Your orders?”
Ramirhe let himself relax some before tightening his grip on his lightsaber, “Get me as close to the droids as you can, Bevinn. Do you have any droid poppers on you?”
“Yes sir.” Bevinn answered, changing direction again before handing the bag of poppers over. “Ba’slan shev’la?”
The red haired Jedi nodded, “We’ll weaken their forces and then retreat.” He then took out three droid poppers and thew them as far as he could into the droid ranks as Bevinn drove.
Jasavo grinned a little bit under his helmet as he watched Bevinn weave through the droid ranks, “Ba’slan shev’la! The General’s creating a distraction. And Then I Want To Know Who Threw That Droid Popper So Close To The General!” He climbed onto his own speeder bike to help thin out some more droids and pick up an injured clone trooper. “Hang in there, vod. We’ll get you medical treatment soon enough.”
“Thank you sir,” Coil mumbled, leaning into his commanding officer. “I think I may have thrown that droid popper sir.”
“Easy, Coil. We’ll ask Blow later.I don’t think it was you. You know better than to do that and I didn’t see you take any droid poppers when we left.”
The Commander slowed down as he got to their ‘base’. Really it was a well defended encampment they set up. The Bes’bavar try to be as efficient as they can be. “Baar’ur- Coil needs medical treatment.”
Baar’ur looked up from one of the other clones and winced when he saw Coil with the shrapnel in his side. “I’ll get right on that, Commander. Also when you see the general, tell him that Admiral Shul needs to speak to him.”
“I’ll be seeing him soon, I have to fix his leg.” The commander grabbed his tools and watched as Bevinn parked his bike before helping the general walk over. “General- are you alright?”
“Outside of my leg, I’m fine. If it weren’t for your quick thinking or Bevinn’s fancy driving I might not be standing here to talk to you,” he answered before sitting down on a crate. “Just tell me you can fix it, Jasavo.” He rolled up his pant leg so that the commander could see the cybernetic prosthetic.
The Commander took his helmet off and then started to take off the outer casing, “I should be able to. Since droid poppers cause EMP blasts, I should just have to jump your leg... it will hurt though.” The nerves that the leg connect to would get the same shock that the cybernetic needs to turn back on, sending shooting pain through the General’s leg. “We could also wait and see if it will wear off.”
“No, we don’t have the time to wait for it to cycle back on.” Ramirhe looked at Jasavo and then smiled, “It’s alright, Jasavo. I trust you.”
“I’m glad. I just don’t want to get kicked in the head because of this,” he half mumbled as he set up the jump. Without warning the jedi, he powered it on, sending a strong shock through the cybernetic.
“Haar’chak that hurts like hell- What happened to warning me about shocking the leg?” Ramirhe had gripped the side of the crate the moment Jasavo shocked his leg. “Thank you for fixing my leg but was that necessary?”
“K’atini. With all due respect, suck it up, general. You’d think I did something more than just rebooting your leg.” The clone grinned as he started to do more repairs on the cybernetic, “Necessary? No, but you’re less likely to try to move the leg if I don’t warn you. I’m going to do some other minor repairs since you’re sitting here still. And the Admiral needs to speak with you apparently.”
“Hmmmm, I’ll answer that now then.” Ramirhe pulled out the holoprojector from his sleeve and turned it on, “Admiral. You need to speak with me?”
Brisco Shul is a fairly well built man who is generally very kind. Today, however, he appears to be very serious. “Indeed. A youngling is insisting that she is your padawan and should be allowed to go down to the planet’s surface with you.”
The young girl in question was a Rattataki, and she looked defiantly at Ramirhe, “Master Ramirhe Jacora? I am Padawan Learner Aubewem. The council has assigned me to be your new padawan, and Admiral Shul isn’t letting me go down to the surface.”
“That... may be for the best at the moment, Padawan.” He winced as Jasavo realigned something in the prosthetic. “We’re a little busy down here and it’s not save to fly to our landing zone. After we meet up with Master Bageeh’s forces- then you can land and we can meet properly.” Ramirhe hated putting this off, but he wasn’t going to make any of his men fly in this. “I shall contact you personally when it’s safe, Aubewem. Haat, Ijaa, Haa’it. I promise.”
She studied her new master’s face before nodding, “Very well, Master Jacora... I’ll... watch the Admiral quietly then.”
“That sounds agreeable.” Ramirhe stood up once Jasavo had gently tapped his prosthetic to give the okay. “Admiral, I shall contact you the moment Master Bageeh and I have begun our final assault. Ret’urcye mhi, Admiral.”
“Oh we shall certainly meet again, General Jacora.” Brisco ended the transmission, leaving Ramirhe staring at a holoprojector for a few moments.
Bevinn ran over from the speeders and stood in front of the two, “General, good to see you back on your feet. General Bageeh’s made his move sir. The Droid Army is completely cut off. We won’t get.a better chance to defeat them.”
“Well, then let’s get going.” Ramirhe jumped onto the closest walker after taking a few test steps. “Bes’bavar- It’s time to make our final move! I only have one real order for you since you all know your assignments- k’oyacyi!” Stay alive was always the final order he gave. As always, it was met with a a chorus of yes sirs as they moved out.
Once again, there was the sound of blaster fire and tank fire as they once again confronted the droid army. This time, he could see two sets of blue blaster fire, signifying that the droid army was indeed cut off from further support. “Well done, Master Bageeh. Well done indeed.”
Ramirhe Jumped into the air, grabbing onto a droid’s flying speeder and kicked the droid off, flying into the chaos of the fight and using his lightsaber to deflect incoming blaster fire. He had noticed that his leg felt stiff when he jumped but he tried to pass that off as residual stiffness from when it had locked earlier.
“Master Jacora, it is good to see that the Bes’bavar really do enjoy acting as the calvary,” Arif’s amused voice crackled over their commlinks. “I was expecting you to have already been in combat though.”
“You’ll have to forgive me, Master Bageeh. I ran into a little problem with my leg. I had to call a tactical retreat or risk dying, and I made a promise to a certain senator that I would come back alive.” Ramirhe countered lightly Jumping from his small speeder to one of the Vulture droids that flew by. He landed heavier than he would have liked. “And I might still be having problems with my leg. If you’ll excuse me.” Ramirhe’s lightsaber was the only thing keeping him on the Vulture droid as it spun. “Jasavo- there’s still something wrong with my leg.”
“Sir- Kriff how did you get on a Vul- never mind. Try to get on one of the walkers. We can finish this without you getting hurt because of your leg. I’ll run a full diagnostic after the fight.” Jasavo could have sworn he did all of the necessary repairs but its possible he missed an underlying problem.
The vulture droid Ramirhe was barely hanging on to, ended up getting shot down by another vulture droid, leading to Ramirhe barely sliding off in time before he got caught in another explosion. He rolled through the sand and felt something break in his prosthetic before he responded to Jasavo. “I may have to take your advice, Commander. Bevinn I need a pick up. Again.”
“I’m on it sir, I was heading towards you anyways. It Looks like General Bageeh has it covered though.” Bevinn commented, once again weaving through the fight to get to his general.
“That’s good.” Ramirhe opened his holoprojector. “We’re making our final move Admiral. The fight should be over shortly.”
“I understand, General. I’ll send your padawan down once we’re done up here,” Brisco answered before hanging up again. If Ramirhe were anyone else he would be insulted, instead he was just amused.
Bevinn held out his hand for the mandalorian jedi to take, “Sir.”
“I think I broke something else in my leg. Thank you for picking me up, Bevinn.” He accepted the hand and climbed onto the speeder, his left leg not moving at all.
“Not a problem, general. Let’s finish this.” The Lancer then started up the speeder, fully trusting his general to keep them from getting shot at from behind.
Just as soon as the fighting had begun again, it ended with a full surrender. “Finally... now I can get my leg properly repaired.” Ramirhe stayed on the speeder as he heard and watched the clones celebrate their victory, and he couldn’t help but smile. Not all was lost, even if he was pretty sure his prosthetic was done for.
#oc: Ramirhe Jacora#oc: Commander Jasavo#oc: Arif Bageeh#oc: Admiral Brisco Shul#oc: Coil#oc: Bevinn#oc: Baar'ur#oc: Aubewem#star wars the clone wars#star wars#writing wednesday drabbles
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We Belong to the Stars, Ch. 25
Rating: Mature (18+ only)
Word Count: 2765
Pairings: Poe/Skywalker!OC
Characters: Poe Dameron, Leia Organa, BB-8, Kaleb Skywalker (OC), Evelyn Skywalker (OC), Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, Snap Wexley, Jessika Pava, BB-8
Read on AO3
Taglist: @ms-dont-care If you want to be added to the taglist let me know :)
Alarm klaxons blasted throughout the base signaling heavy causalities were incoming.
Evelyn pushed her way into the command center, hearing the frantic radio messages and communications. "Is it Black Squadron?" She asked, grabbing Kaydel by the arm. When the younger woman wouldn't answer her because her aunt had given them strict orders to keep Evelyn out of the loop--Evelyn shouted, "Is it Black Squadron?"
Kaydel could only nod her head before getting back to work; Evelyn tore off towards the surface of the planet. This was the worst part of being grounded, she couldn't help out her team, she couldn't help Poe. For the last two months she had watched as Poe led mission after mission, as she was forced to sit on the sidelines. Heart thundering in her chest, Evelyn made it to the surface just as four x-wings touched down. Immediately she could see that they were heavily damaged and chaos broke out on the flight pad.
Medics were running in, fire crews were dousing the flames on the fighters, and people were shouting, trying desperately to be heard over the blaring alarms. Evelyn ducked underneath mechanical crew and headed straight for Poe's x-wing. BB-8 was being lowered from the socket, beeping wildly and the little droid rushed at her when he caught sight of her.
"It's okay, BeeBee," Evelyn assured him, even if in that moment she didn't feel it.
"Lieutenant, I need you to get out of the way, ma'am," someone said behind her and she felt fingers grasping her arm.
Evelyn turned to see a medic pushing her back as the hatch to Black One hissed open. Immediately the medics swarmed the fighter, she didn't even know she was holding her breath until she heard Poe shouting at them that he was fine. Letting out the breath, she reached down and gave a very anxious BB-8 some belly scratches.
Poe emerged from the cockpit, shoving his helmet at one of the medics before gingerly peeling himself out of the pilot's seat. "I'm fine!" he hissed when the medics insisted on looking at him. "Just some bruising; I'll live."
She didn't know why but that statement made her eyes fill with tears and she released her frustration in a choked sob. BB-8 nudged her, trying to comfort her, and moaned softly that he was sorry she wasn't flying with them anymore; he missed her.
"I miss her too, BeeBee," Poe said before pulling Evelyn into his arms. "It's okay; we're fine."
"I hate this, Poe," Evelyn whimpered against his flight suit which smelled like smoke and engine oil. "I hate that I'm not out there with you."
He pressed a kiss to her temple. Poe pulled away from her, wrapped his arm around her torso, and headed back towards the base. He was barely concealing the winces on his face as he walked, but she didn't argue with him. "I need to speak to General Organa--update her on what happened out there."
Evelyn nodded and walked with him. She looked over her shoulder at the medics attempting to tend to the other members of Black Squadron. It turned out that all the pilots were equally as stubborn when it came to seeking medical treatment. Glancing back at Poe, she asked, "What did happen out there, Poe?"
Poe sighed, heavily. "A mess--a big giant mess. We need to figure out whose leaking information to the First Order and we need to figure it out now. Otherwise, we're going to be dealing with worse than Karé breaking her leg."
"Karé broke her leg?"
"Yeah, as we were escaping Terex and his thugs again."
"Who are you going to suggest replaces her?"
"You."
"Wait? What?"
He stopped and turned to face her. Poe could see the confusion in her eyes, after all, she had been grounded for two months. "On the way back here, I got to thinking--our latest missions--those have been for your aunt--Dane has no idea what Black Squadron is doing. As much as I hate the guy--he's not our mole."
She wasn't quite following his reasoning as to why he wanted her back on the squad. Evelyn stepped aside as someone rushed by her, heading towards the surface. "But you said yourself that there's no way Snap, Jess, Karé or L'ulo would betray the Resistance."
Poe nodded. "Yeah, that is until Terex knew exactly where to fire to disable Karé's fighter--she's lucky she got out of there with only a broken leg. Who knows our fighters better than us, Evie?"
Evelyn paused, understanding flashing in her blue eyes. "Mechanics--they know our ships just as well as we do if not better. So you think...you think one of our mechanics is the mole?"
"Only theory that makes sense."
"Why would one of our mechanics betray us like this?"
"I don't know," Poe said, grabbing her hand and leading her towards the command center. "But I intend to find out."
"How?" Evelyn asked, walking along with him. "Are you even sure you know which mechanic it is?"
There was no response from him, partially because Poe didn't have any idea which mechanic was snitching on them, and partially because they had entered the command center and Leia was gesturing for them to join her in the situation room. "Have a seat," she instructed the two pilots. "We have a lot to discuss."
Evelyn shot Poe a glance as he sat down, wincing in pain as he did so. A brief look of concern washed over Leia's face as she noticed the pain Poe was in, but knowing the commander, Leia didn't bring it up. After this meeting was over, Evelyn was going to drag his ass down to the medcenter and have the medics look at him. She didn't care if she had to drag him there kicking and screaming--he was going. She knew it was more than just some bruising.
Leia called something up on the holotable, watching Poe and Evelyn's expressions intensely. "Red Squadron was able to obtain the rest of those plans for the First Order base."
Poe blinked, eyes wide. "That looks a lot bigger than the Death Star."
"Because it is," Leia said, solemnly. "It's a base entirely built into a planet."
"How is the weapon charged?" Evelyn asked, anxiously.
"Agent Dane is working on decrypting the transmissions from Agent Lothor; engineers are looking at the specs."
"Is it operational?"
"Not yet. Maybe in another six to eight months."
Poe smiled, wistfully at Evelyn. "So... that gives us plenty of time to figure out how to blow it up."
Evelyn looked at him, incredulously. "I know you're trying to be funny... but at the same time you make a great point."
Leia shut the holoimage down. "We might not have all the time in the galaxy, but... we have enough time that I think Black Squadron has earned a break, Commander."
Standing, Poe nodded his head, noticing that Evelyn was watching him closely. "There's one more thing I wanted to discuss with you, ma'am."
"Yes. Evelyn is back on the squadron."
"What--how did you know that was what I was going to ask?"
The General's response was a gentle smile, and then an order for Poe to report to the med bay-- Evelyn offered to take him there herself. Poe argued the entire way out of the situation room that he didn't need to see a doctor, to which Evelyn argued that the wincing in pain every time he moved slightly was because she knew how hard he flew, how hard he pushed himself in the cockpit--she was taking him to the med bay.
Chuckling, Leia shook her head. Poe and Evelyn's bickering reminded her of herself and Han--L'ulo had been right all those weeks ago when he'd claimed that the young pilots were very much like a certain princess and smuggler. Feeling a heaviness press on her chest, Leia hoped that Poe and Evelyn's story had a much happier ending that hers.
"How's the prince?" Snap asked when Evelyn joined the group of pilots at dinner.
"Stubborn," Evelyn responded, sitting down next to her brother. "But he was right--it really is just some bruising."
Kaleb laughed. "You're not going to live that down--that Poe was right. He's going to remind you every chance he gets about this. Where is he anyway?"
Evelyn sighed and looked over her shoulder. "He went to take a shower, apparently he wasn't hungry."
"Well, he's going to miss out," Jess said, holding up a bottle of brandy. "We're heading down to the lake after this to kickback."
"Sure you want him drunk again?" Kaleb quipped, grinning. "You do remember that last time he got drunk, right?"
"According to him--he wasn't," Snap chuckled.
Kaleb frowned, slightly. He'd seen Poe a hell of lot drunker than he'd been the night down at the beach--but, Jas Dane had also not been around, hovering around Evelyn and calling her disparaging names. "Yeah well, thanks to him I have to deal with Dane and I'm pretty sure if I punch him my aunt is going to kill me."
Snap shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'd look the other way if I were her. It's not like Dane doesn't deserve being punched--in fact, I'm pretty sure that if you did hit him, he probably would have done something to deserve it."
Evelyn had noticed that ever since the fight on the beach, Jas had been keeping his distance from Black Squadron, partially because Leia had assigned Kaleb's squadron to retrieve the transmissions from Lothor. She didn't expect him, however, to change his attitude. It would take more than Poe beating him up to accomplish that. She finished up her dinner, decided that she wasn't going join the other pilots down by the lake.
Jess looked at her, curiously. "Where are you going to go?"
Smiling, Evelyn replied, "to make sure the prince doesn't get into any trouble tonight."
Sunset on D’Qar reminded him of home. Poe climbed his favorite grassy hill, deciding to skip a night of drunken revelry with his friends, and opted for the quiet of a late summer sunset. The sun was just beginning to dip into the horizon when he spread the thin, worn blanket out and sat down. After being given the rest of the evening off, Poe had taken the opportunity the to freshen up after spending almost four days away from base. It felt good to be out the flight suit and gear and in his familiar leather jacket.
Cool metal brushed against his hand and Poe smiled. It also felt good to have his trusty droid at his side. BB-8 had been following him around, concerned with how tired his master appeared, but Poe didn't mind. After all, the little droid had kept his rekindled romance with Evelyn a secret since they had kissed on the light freighter months ago now. Even though he was pretty sure everyone was aware that they were back together, BB-8 still hadn't said a word to the others. Poe sighed, feeling his muscles ache. The mission had been dangerous but they had still gotten additional information that might lead them to Lor San Tekka. Poe closed his eyes for a moment, letting the setting sun warm his face. It had been a long day… an incredibly long day…
“Do you mind if I join you?” Evelyn’s voice questioned, quietly, behind him.
“Of course not,” Poe replied, opening his eyes. He watched as she sat down next to him, sun reflecting in her copper brown hair. Gods, is she beautiful, he thought as he reached out and ran his fingers through her hair. “Not in the mood to join in on the drinking tonight?”
Evelyn shook her head. "No. I think I've had enough of cantinas and bars and drinking for a while."
Poe chuckled and draped his arm over her shoulders, drawing her close to him. "Me too."
She snuggled against the perfect nook between his arm and shoulder, noticing that he winced slightly. "Does this hurt?"
He kissed the top of her head. "For you, I'll take a little bit of pain if it means I can hold you." He turned his attention to the last bit of sunlight in the sky, watching as the sun dipped completely below the horizon and out of sight. The air around them instantly cooled now that the warmth of the sun was gone and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Evelyn shiver. “Are you cold?”
Wrapping her arms around her upper body, Evelyn shrugged. “A little; I didn't really plan a head when I went looking for you.”
“Here,” he said, starting to peel his jacket off, “take mine.”
“Poe,” she protested as he draped it over her shoulders, “you don’t have too.”
“I’m trying to be chivalrous here, Evie.”
“You don’t have to be!”
“I want to be!”
“Sometimes you're so difficult.”
He laughed at the remark, his dark brown eyes sparkling. Poe held onto his jacket, now hanging over her shoulders. “There. Warmer?”
She felt color rise to her cheeks underneath his gaze. “Yes. Thank you.”
Poe held her gaze a little longer than he had expected to, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of her. Kiss her, he told himself, but was completely transfixed by her; her eyes, the curve of her lips, how his jacket was much too big on her…
Evelyn smiled at him, coyly. "You know you can kiss me, right? I think I've established that I'm alright with that."
Slowly, using his hold on the jacket to guide him, Poe pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss. He released his hold on the jacket and wrapped his strong arms around her waist, guiding her towards the blanket. Her mouth opened this his, and he deepened the kiss as he laid her down underneath him.
Closing her eyes, Evelyn sighed, as Poe’s lips began to kiss her along her jawline, behind her ear, and then down to her collarbone. She felt a fire spread across her skin wherever his lips touched her.
Poe pulled back, his left hand idly stroking her hip. “Hey, BeeBee-Ate?”
BB-8 beeped, his eye socket watching every move his master made.
“You can head back to base; I’m sure you need a recharge by now,” Poe said, kissing Evelyn, hungrily. “Oh, and still not a word of this…to anyone… got it?”
There was a chirping affirmative from BB-8, before he rolled away, down the grassy hill and back towards the base. Poe smiled as he leaned down to capture her lips once again with his own. She yielded to his gentle pressure, allowing him to deepen their kiss. He pressed her back into the thin blanket underneath him, his arms wrapping tightly about her, hands burying in her soft hair. Their legs became entangled the heavier their kisses became, and he felt what little control he had over his senses slipping away as desire took hold of him.
He broke their kiss, breathing hard, and slowly pressed kisses into the hollow of her neck, dipping lower and lower until he was kissing the top of her chest. Her hands tightened in his hair, he heard her little gasps of pleasure and felt a shiver run up his spine.
Poe pulled back, raising his head to gaze at her. Evelyn was breathing just as hard as he was, her hair spread out around her on the blanket, evident that hands had been playing in it mere moments before. He grinned at her just before he kissed her once again and pressed his body into hers because he wanted to feel as much of her as he could between the fabric of their clothing.
Evelyn began to unbutton his shirt. One hand idly drifting south towards the waistband of his trousers…
....and his com link went off, interrupting the heated moment, and requesting that he gather Black Squadron to meet in the situation room.
"Damn it," Poe sighed after the com link shut down. "I knew having the whole night off was too good to be true."
"It has to be important if Aunt Leia is calling for us, after giving us the night off," Evelyn replied, idly playing with his curls.
Poe closed his eyes and nodded. He sat up, holding his hand out to her to help her up. Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath. "Let's go see what they want."
#star wars fanfiction#poe dameron fanfiction#poe x oc#poe dameron x oc#poe dameron#evelyn skywalker (oc)#leia organa#snap wexley#jess pava#black squadron
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My Love For You | Loki x Reader
Italics in quotations are thoughts: 'Sample.’
Regular italics are Flashbacks : Sample
word count : 5875
This would be set during Thor and The Avengers (2012).
Summary: She couldn't see him anymore, and she desperately wanted to believe that he was alive, that he lied there, waiting for her reach… just holding on to the idea of someone wanting him as he was.
My Love For You
"Barbaric woman." He muttered while watching the (h/c) haired woman and his brother spar.
It was a pastime going back to her years of infancy with the two men.
Usually, she'd center herself into the field, opposite of the thunder god to test her skills, better advancing with every fall she'd take, and growing more confident with each triumph she'd hold over him, which were too few in her book.
Off to the side, Odin's other son usually situated himself, paying mind to his own activities, occasionally glancing over to the fighting two with mild interest.
(f/n) and Thor had originally started off with sticks, advancing to using anything they could find to pretend to be true warriors, much like the mighty Valkyrie.
They'd boast on, cry out their names with elatedness as they declared their future victories.
Later on, they grew, maturing alongside each other, and while Thor grew to be a man worthy of the title of a warrior and ultimately named would be king, she blossomed into a woman, a beautiful one at that.
She grew to be a true goddess, both lovely and virtuous, holding qualities of a delicate creature, but with skills of a mighty combatant.
- And she prided herself in that fact.
She prided herself on being strong and valiant.
Meanwhile, on the sidelines, Loki also matured, both in body and mind, and while his two other companions grew to excel in a more brutish manner of offense, he found his own talents in the witchcraft his mother had a mastery of.
He was an eager learner, keen to master every trick she could advise him on, and doing so impeccably.
As time progressed, and they grew, so did the growing affection the young goddess held for the princes of Asgard, moreover, so did the feelings of longing affection she had for the younger, dark-haired one.
Whereas most other women were more drawn to the powerfully built form and golden locks of the elder brother, Thor, (f/n)'s eyes always strayed to the more graceful of the two.
Somehow, she always found herself drawn to Loki.
He became the center of her attention and sight, stemming back to when she was still an innocent young girl and without say, the dark-haired god of mischief was somewhat of a harbored crush for her, a sentiment that only grew into love.
He'd grown up to be beautiful, having shining dark hair that was undoubtedly soft and silken, the locks always kept neatly maintained, brushed back to show his lovely sculpted face. His eyes, which were a lovely color that perfectly reflected the mystical side of him, shined like polished gems, their emerald color always showing a small tease of his inner heart.
Truthfully, she always saw them as gateways into another realm he commanded, and that she was always drawn into.
They glowed with playfulness when he caused mischief because he just loved the attention he received from his little tricks.
They dimmed whenever he felt lonesome, the wonderous vibrancy of them being affected as his heart fell weak, something he didn't like showing off.
Through and through, he gathered up all his pain, tucking it away in hopes to make it die out, but fragments of it would still make itself known through his gaze.
Yet, later on, it seemed that there wasn't much to find within his eyes, only brewing emotions that tinted his lovely orbs dark, stealing away the pure light within them, something that she caught onto far too late.
As he matured and grew into a man, he hardened, mastering illusion.
He mastered tricks to hide his inner self, leaving him to become an enigma.
Her heart was always soft for him, and with time only became more feeble to his whim.
It yearned for his attention and affection, but he wasn't as easy to read as Thor. He had become too much of a mystery, and he wasn't as simple to please, being far more secluded with himself and his emotions.
Nevertheless, she wanted to serve him, to protect him at all costs, despite the fact that her duties and as well as loyalty were meant for the next in line, and for the current time, the all-father Odin.
Her (e/c) eyes quickly dashed towards the lonesome young man, seeing him pick at the upper corner of his book, turning over to the next page with a rather placid smile, one she found breathtaking despite its simplicity.
She'd seen him read the same book for years, somehow never getting tired of the old tale and always visiting it back, finding the same enjoyment as he did the first time,
'What makes you love that old worn thing?' she wondered with curiosity, wanting to ask him.
During then, the golden-haired god opposite to her took advantage of her preoccupied mind and toppled her over with a single sweep of his mighty hammer.
The force of his strike quickly snapped her out of her daydreaming and she threatened him with a harsh glare as she picked herself up from the ground.
He knew it was cheap to attack while she wasn't even in the mindset of battle yet, but he held no regard to clean fighting with her, nor the fact that she was a woman, and it had been like that for some time now, because she was everything but delicate on the battlefield.
He knew she was able to stand up again, bloodied or not, wounded or not, and even an inch close to death.
In the end, she would always rise up again, and he found it admirable.
"- Thor, mighty Asgardian prince, at the will of a woman!" She said grinning wildly as her boot came down on his chest harshly, letting her full weight and more fall upon him.
"Tis no woman I see here, " he responded in a wheeze, courtesy of her vicious stomp, "More like a beast," he commented, laughing heartily as she stepped off from him.
She giggled slightly and shook her head, "Don't flatter me!" she said, still smiling jovially.
Extending her hand out to the prince, she smiled triumphantly as he took it.
"You tend to use dirty tricks. " he huffed before standing and dusting himself off.
"I know...but in the end I was victorious," she replied with a smug tone and at that, Thor rolled his eyes at her.
"That's all that matters," she said with a small smile, "You taught me that remember?" she asked him as she walked alongside him.
Discreetly, her eyes trailed to the side, off to where the younger of the two princes still remained.
Loki sat far off to the side, still reading his book, completely oblivious to the lovestruck gaze that melted upon him.
'He's so lovely,' (f/n) thought while smiling, ignoring Thor's idle talk for just a moment, something he took notice of quickly.
Peering down at her, he found her glancing at his brother and rolled his eyes,
"Again with the wandering eye lady (f/n)," Thor mused, crossing his beefy arms as he waited for her response.
"Yes, again with my silly, little wondering eyes, Thor," she replied huffing, soon glowing red, because it hadn't been the first time she'd been caught staring by him, and it certainly was not going to be the last either.
"I am sure he wouldn't mind your company," Thor said while smiling lightly, nudging her shoulder with his elbow.
"- I'm sure he would." She retorted.
" For someone so cute, he truly is a grump," she added while gently shaking her head.
"He always acts like conversation pesters him," she explained, "And even if I could ignore his obvious brush offs, I'd only make a fool of myself yet again," she added, deciding to turn to walk away, intent on heading back into her chambers for a refreshing wash.
Passing Loki while on her way, she could see his eyes follow her, the gaze making her feel light, little feathers tickle her insides, teasingly brushing over the walls of her stomach.
During then, while trying to ignore his stare, her boots touched the ground, increasing the distance between her and her charming prince, something she detested.
Unfortunately, the timidness he arose from her always bested her. It never failed to settle in, no matter how hard she tried.
Furthermore, if it wasn't difficult enough to be in his presence already, her past encounter with him the week prior was still fresh in her mind, and she desired nothing more than to go back in time to play it off better,
"Hey, Loki-Dokie, you want to play too?" She asked happily, forcibly swallowing down her nervousness, inviting him over to join her and Thor, even if it was just for a moment.
'- Again with that stupid name.' he thought sourly in regards to the pet name that followed him from his childhood, courtesy of the (h/c) haired female.
He scoffed and continued to read instead, only sneaking a slight peek at her.
And as his emerald eyes landed on her, he noticed the way her fingers played with each other, relentlessly poking one another, all while she waited for his worded response.
"Why are you fretting?" He asked nonchalantly, slowly flipping to the next page and skimming his eyes over the handwritten words.
At his question, her eyes grew wide, and instantly, she bawled her fists, setting them to the sides, and by doing so stopping the little display,
"I'm not nervous!" She said all too quickly, huffing out the swift response .
"I never said you were nervous?" He asked her while being utterly perplexed, and altogether he set the book aside and began to focus on her, wondering just what had her so shaken.
He offered her a dull look, propping his chin on his palm, ready to entertain her in whatever silly conversation she had in hand, because honestly, it'd been far too long since they'd stood face to face for longer than a fraction of a second, and he wouldn't be honest if he said he was entirely pleased with that.
In the past, she'd always trail behind him, following his every step, however, That was of course before she grew older.
- Before she'd changed.
" what in the 9 realms is wrong with you?" he questioned her with wonder, receiving back an aggravated sigh before she turned to her heels, walking away without any response back to him that left him satisfied.
Immediately, he raised a brow in inquiry, "Am I missing something?" He asked himself.
"What in the world did she want?" He muttered to himself, not being able to think about anything else but their little conversation... if he could call it that.
He rolled his eyes and nibbled at his bottom lip before getting up abruptly,
"Honestly... that strange girl..." He huffed while trailing behind her, stopping immediately as he noticed her standing before Thor.
Hiding behind a pillar, he looked onto their interaction, his hold tightening onto the stone as he saw them showcase their obvious comfort with one another.
He couldn't hear them speak as they talked lowly to one another in a secretive manner that was only amongst themselves, but, even so, he felt green envy fester as he watched the way they stepped closer to one another.
From where he stood he saw a hidden romance, something he'd been growing suspicious of as of late, and much more despised.
"Perhaps...if you'd simply be straightforward, you'd get somewhere rather than turn back to me. " Thor grumbled with exasperation, snickering at the way her face colored cherry red.
" - You fight grand beasts, and yet fall under my brother's heel the second he sends you a look. Lady (f/n)...you truly amaze me." He chuckled before placing a hand to her head, ruffling her hair before trailing his hand down to grab her ripened cheek, pinching it.
"Teasing me doesn't help me," she sighed, brushing his hand off and hanging her head.
"Alright, Alright, forgive me," he said softly, grabbing both her hands in his, before raising them up to set them between their two bodies, tightly cradling them with true affection.
"- But I don't think you understand how much I love you both, and it brings me great comfort and joy to know that there is a woman here who truly loves my brother, and much more would do all she can for him." He confessed. "When you are ready to step forward and proclaim your love for him, I will do all I can to make sure you both see nothing but joy." He told her with sincerity.
Smiling largely, she brought her forehead down to their linked hands and thanked him, her voice soft and sweet as she was struck with tenderness,
"Would you truly accept me as part of your family?" she asked him breathily.
" A foolish question to ask," he stated, " I'm certain mother and father would both be pleased to have you as well." He told her. "But first you have to win over my brother," he reminded her, with a small bit of tease,
" Just remember, I will always be on your side, and I trust he will not overlook an amazing person such as yourself," he told her, quickly boosting her spirits with his uplifting words, giving her budding hope.
She remembered Thor’s promise of help as she trailed behind him, her heart soaring all the while, coming back to life once she'd heard the news that Loki was still alive.
She had mourned greatly over his presumed death, crying heart wounded tears at his passing, but now, she felt hope as she discovered he was alive, and in Midguard of all places.
"- I want to go with you," she said to Thor, a beautiful smile stretched over her face, illuminating her features. "You have to take me with you," she told him, her shining eyes filled with brimming optimism as she continued to speak.
She then playfully slipped herself to stand before him, wearing the same elation, her jubilance soon melting as she noticed his less than pleased look,
"What...What's the matter Thor?" she asked him with concern, not understanding his grave face.
Was he not happy to know Loki was alive?
She figured he would be the first to jump for joy, possibly surpassing her own enthusiasm.
Thor looked down at her, his blue eyes both filled with conflict before he closed them with a hard breath, pushing her aside and walking past her altogether.
Stunned and wide-eyed she whipped back to glare at his back in disbelief, storming over to him, and making her way in front of him within a few stomps, her hands both pushing him back.
"What's wrong with you!" she asked him, growing alarmed. "Did you not hear me? " she asked him, her voice rising to a higher pitch as her eyes hardened, demanding not only to go alongside him but an answer to why he seemed so ominous.
Again he stayed silent, his chest rising and falling hard as he reached for both her hands with the hand not holding Mjolnir.
"Why...Why won't you talk to me...?" she asked him in a small voice, "Are you not happy he lives?" She questioned him, her eyes wide as she looked up at him with innocence.
His hand then shook as it grasped hers, tightening at her question, "You'll see him when I bring him back," he told her sternly.
"Why are you refusing to answer me?" she asked him, stepping forward to get closer, her chest touching him as she looked up at him with question, searching for the truth.
" Answer me Thor!" she cried out, knowing that something wasn't right and that she was being held in the dark.
She then wiggled her hands out from his grasp as a sense of dread draped over her shoulders like a cold, wet blanket.
Glaring down at her, Thor dropped Mjolnir from his hold, placing both his palms on either side of her face, peering down at her with hurt blue crystals, " Have you heard of why he's there?" he questioned her in a low rumble.
Shaking her head she answered truthfully, " I just know he lives, " she admitted to him.
" Why?" She breathed. "What are you not telling me?" she asked him, her head tilting as she tried to see his eyes in a better light, desperately searching for answers in any way she could.
"- My brother has been on a downward spiral," he began, " and he has only sunken lower," he informed her.
"He's become a tyrant," he told her. "He's wielding power he cannot be entrusted with, and reigning down on Midguard as a wicked oppressor, already having taken lives for his gain.
So, I'm not there to simply speak to him..." he informed her.
"- I need to do this alone," he told her. " You love him so, but only the man he once was. I've seen him grow wicked. He's -"
"He's still Loki!" she stubbornly input.
"He's still your brother..." she said while growing glossy-eyed, fearing the worst for the younger Asgardian male.
"which is all the more reason why I must be the one to go. I have to convince him to come back, to give up that mindset in which has placed us in conflict.
To stop this madness...
To bring back the tesseract... And if I cannot... then..."
"Then what?" she questioned him, watching as his jaw tightened while he struggled to find the right words.
"Then...You'll kill him..?" she said with a hitch in her breath, pushing him off.
"Are you going to kill him?" she said anxiously, her aching chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.
"The Earth is under my protection," he answered her, not being able to stomach the idea of harming his brother.
Blood or not, they were still siblings, and love was not something that could be fabricated.
He loved his younger kin and would stop at nothing to bring him back safely, but with that being said, he understood the possible outcome, the probable outcome that is -
' He won't come easily,' He told himself.
Thor wanted to convince Loki with just words, to make him understand his wrongdoings with simple talk, but he knew his stubborn brother. Muchmore, he had come to see the pain held within him that had only manifested into resenting and spite, all of which only plunged the younger into more darkness.
"Please..." (f/n) said softly, "Y- You can't!" she said in disbelief, shaking her head.
"You can't do this to him! You can't do this to your own brother!" She cried out in desperation, her hysterics stopped by his booming voice,
"Do you think I want to !" he cried out to her. "Do you think that if I had any other option, I'd avoid all of this!" he went on.
And in his split moment of vulnerability, she could see his truths, all of which left her even more brokenhearted.
Her hands then tightened at her sides as she took in his words,
" Then with more reason..." she murmured, " with more reason I need to go. Because if he doesn't make it back...
I want to at least see him once more." She told him. " I already know punishment awaits him as he returns, I already understand that ... but even so, I will still love him," she told him.
"Even after knowing his true heritage, I still mourned him, and I still continue to cry for him and yearn for him. " She admitted to him, wanting him to understand the true depths of her affection,
"Can you not see, Thor?" she asked him, her voice soft and filled with plea,
" So please have mercy on me," she begged him. "I not only ask you as a wounded woman, but as a warrior without heart.
Without true purpose anymore...
I beg you as a friend to please take with you. Please let me be at his side once more." She rambled. " I will do all I can... I will do all I can to save him," she promised him.
" Please... let us share this pain, for if it comes to be that his heart has grown black, and too far gone into villainy...then I will help you carry his body back," she told him, bowing her head.
Gazing down at her, he saw her own defenselessness, taking it in with understanding, blue orbs.
With a small, silent nod, he slipped his hand into Mjolnir's leather strap before tightly holding onto the hammer and picking it up.
"We have no time to waste," he told her after a strong heave, "We will have my father transport us to earth," he then told her.
Nodding quickly, she placed a hand onto her sword at her side.
"It is not just Loki that is there, There are others who want his head now," he warned her, "His actions... they have been...unpleasant," he continued to caution her, letting her know what lay ahead.
"Then I will protect my prince," she stated firmly, her hand that had already been placed on her weapon, tightening, "From others and himself," she said sternly.
"And I will aid you, Thor, " she said with certainty.
" I know there is good in him," she told him, clinging onto the former image of him, " I know We can bring both he and the Tesseract back," she added, a crooked smile twitching at her lips.
And he wanted to believe her.
He wanted to agree with her words, but far, deep within his heart, he knew she was being nieve.
Yet, he said not a word to confront her, because he had felt love too. He had come to know the feelings within her breast, identifying the same naiveté that had once been his own heart.
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Once she found herself before him, she'd already been exposed to his wrongdoings. She knew of every wicked act, and yet, she still felt the same for him.
' I know there is good in you...I just know there is,' she thought with faith, firmly grasping onto the belief.
"Please Loki", she begged, both her eyes pleading with him as every ounce of her being was doused in mercy and benevolence, wanting nothing more than to stop him from falling further into the dark abyss he had stepped into.
She threw her weapons aside, making them fly out to land many feet away from her, striping herself of everything she'd strived to be.
She made herself vulnerable for him, throwing aside her blade to show him he was above her pride as a warrior.
Because, truthfully, all in which she had prided herself in would have never been obtained if it wasn't for her devotion to him.
Her prince was hurt, he was wounded beyond the flesh and punctured deep within his bleeding heart, and in response, her own cried out. And it only began to fall apart as she watched him sink furthermore.
Like many times before she was weak for him, but this time, rather than shying away, she stepped forward, finding new strength.
"Have you come here to beg for my mercy ?" he questioned her with animosity.
His dimmed evergreen gems bore into her (e/c) eyes with anything but the innocence that once lay within them in the past, and yet, she still approached him.
' You are there Loki... I just know it,' she thought to herself.
"I said did you come to ask for my mercy ?" he repeated, seemingly savoring the moment he had at boastfulness, enjoying having the world under his whim and in submission.
And to him, it was almost laughable.
He'd easily evaded their "mightiest." and was now only steps from ruling.
He'd assumed that he couldn't reach a greater high, and that things couldn't have gotten better, until she showed up.
"I came to help you..." she spoke softly. " I came to aid my prince, " she told him, and at her words, he laughed the sound evolving into an unhinged state.
"Prince?" he questioned her with mock. " I am no prince, I am a king!" he told her.
"Don't you dare insult me with such a low title, with such pathetic words, as though I need your good virtue to 'save me'." He told her.
"I know you're reasoning." He started, " Of course...you came here for his sake," he said lowly. " You came to beg under his word, to bring Odinson his victory, have you not?" he asked her, sounding certain.
" Thor Odinson, or should I say Only son...Only worthy man ..." he added, his voice drifting into a low rumble.
"You are still Odinson aswell," she uttered, causing his teeth to bare,
" Don't belittle me, I've told you once to not provoke me." he sneered. " You must know well enough I am no son of his...That I am nothing but a trophy... A monstrous creature you, yourself also swore to slay!" he said angrily, spitting out the words that were laced with hurt.
"I came here for you Loki, not under Odin's command, nor Thor's will." She declared.
"I came because..." She started, taking in a shaky breath, "because..." she struggled, "Because I ...I Love you," she said softly, still feeling the same sentiment for him, her heart almost popping as she said the words.
"You...love me..?" he breathed, stepping closer to her by three steps.
Nodding she spoke, " I swear I do Loki, I have loved you for years, and I will continue to for more to come ... " she confessed.
She'd always imagined the moment she finally confessed to him her love, and now that it was happening, she felt once again as she did when she was younger; and soon, bashful, beautiful little fuzziness teased her from within.
As he approached her, the feeling became almost unbearable, very near to consuming her.
He hung his head as a smile curled at his lips, a deep chuckle rousing from his chest, "then do as I wish... under my whim, bow down." He said with the utmost vainglory, seething the words to her as he looked down at her.
She stared at him glossy-eyed, her lips trembling as she heard him speak,
"Loki?" she said softly, taken back by his order.
The harsh tone in which he had spoken to her shook her, making her (e/c) eyes moisten, wearing the heartache that lay in her breast out on display.
"Kneel, " he ordered again, the second time sounding even harsher, outraged at her disobedience, "Show your loyalty to me, Show me your supposed love," He told her, taunting her.
With the glowing sector in his hand, he brought it down to the floor with a harsh clunking sound, making the length of her spine run cold as ice.
She jumped slightly, never having heard him sound so irate, especially not with the spite directed at her.
The gleaming light in his eyes that showed merriment at her terror also was captured by her wide eyes, and bowing her head down in mercy she trembled, placing her hands flat to the floor as she kneeled down to him.
She shook with harsh tremors, but not with fear, nor lividness.
She shook with sorrow as she released her withheld tears and let them descend down to the filthy, debris-covered ground. The small drops of salted water spilled to the spot, creating small, dark specks for him to witness.
Her heart still ached for who she thought he was.
Kind, sweet, and misunderstood Loki.
Loki, the young boy who played with her as a child.
The same one who was enchanted by the uses of magic and filled with wonder boundless by the existing dimensions.
The same Loki that never liked to fight, but nonetheless stayed to entertain his brother and her.
Loki, the one who'd smile every so often and melt her heart with the soft showcase of affection.
The shield in which her eyes had once set on him became cracked and slowly crumbled, soon seeing nothing but a bitter, cruel person cackling at her showcased sorrow.
The kind Loki she knew wouldn't do such a cruel thing, even if he rejected her affection.
And by then, she couldn't see him anymore, despite desperately wanting to believe that he was alive, waiting for her reach and holding on to the idea of someone wanting him as he was.
' Loki... where are you?' she thought sniveling, raising her gaze up to him, not knowing the man before her.
" I came to beg you to come back," she said kneeling before him, this time sounding uncertain.
'All I've ever wanted... Was your happiness, Loki. I wish I would have been clear with you, because if I had known you were so troubled, I wouldn't have wasted time with my own fears. I would have let go of my insecurities to assure you of yours...'
" Please. Please just come back." She said imploring him, her voice shaking.
"You're as annoying as that oaf." He said snidely. "But once I rule over Midguard, and make all those pathetic humans fall to their knees as you are now, you will understand." He told her. " You will come to realize...No... Everyone will see how fit I was to be the one in rule.
Everyone will know much mightier I can be, " he said with certainty.
"- How much better I am than Thor!" he claimed. "I will prove I am filled with glorious purpose," He told her.
"Tell me, did you truly come here thinking I was a fool?" he asked her. " No... much more, did you believe your ploy as a wounded damsel would work on me?...when I know the truth?" he asked her.
"What ploy Loki?" she asked him, utterly perplexed. "what truth are you speaking of?" she said in confusion.
" Don't insult me any longer foul wench!" He said angrily, crying out to her with frustration as he saw her look up at him so wretchedly.
She dared to look at him as though he was deserving of pity, and it scathed him.
"You think I'm that stupid little boy, don't you?" He asked her, " You think I'm the same fool you constantly teased, as you went to that idiot time and time again, following him like a dog! like a bitch in heat!" He cried out.
His words struck her as he spoke so coldly and full of spite, and she did nothing more than listen to him, knowing none of it was true.
Did he honestly believe such a thing?
Her love for Thor was brotherly love, admiration, and nothing more.
It was her strive to be just as powerful and mighty, all so she could be worthy of Loki's affection.
- So she could protect him and keep him safe.
- So she could love him and be deserving of him.
She suddenly stood up, quickly stepping towards him before daringly touching her hands to his cheeks, "Please believe me," she told him, " please know that I am here for you, that I came here for you only," she insisted, staring deep into his jaded eyes.
She searched for something, anything that showed his true, inner musings, but she found nothing yet again.
"I truly do love you..." she said before stretching to capture his lips, salty tears melded with the taste of her lips and she poured her entire heart within that single, long kiss.
All the years of her harbored love, as well as all the suffrage she felt at his absence, were there, mixed with all the heartache she felt while seeing his current state.
It was all there, and he eagerly accepted her, one of his hands fisting her (light/dark) hair as he pulled her closer.
"So you believe me..." she said softly, her crying face blossoming with young optimism as he stared down at her.
He gave her a soft smile as he tightened his hold, once again capturing her lips, and with a staggering breath, she willingly let herself melt.
Her arms desperately held him as her body gravitated to him, never wanting to part.
He pulled away slightly, his lips still grazing hers, also unwilling to part, "It doesn't matter now," he said softly, " because now I have you... And I'll make sure to keep you tied down.
- At my order and whim," He said tearing away from her, his hold on her strands still there as he restrained her.
Her (e/c) colored eyes opened wide, staring at him with obvious hurt as she watched him use his other hand to raise his weapon.
He felt his heart tighten as his body reacted with aggression. Admittedly, her touch had affected him, because he'd loved her for years.
He'd always been longing for her, but wasn't convinced that her love was true,
'It's no coincidence,' He thought to himself, unable to overlook the timing of her confession,
'You do it for him.
You do it to toy with me again...' He thought with lukewarm amusement.
Through a tightened jaw he touched the tip of the scepter to her heart, "Temptress... I know you play dirty," he mused as a blue light emitted from his scepter.
She felt a surge of its power spreading throughout her body in shockwaves, making her feel suffocated at the overbearing power. Her pounding heart came to a sudden halt as she felt quakes of snake-like bursts course through her body.
Her pretty (e/c) eyes then turned pitch black before an electrifying blue settled into the irises, and it was only then that he let his grip fall.
"Now... you'll be at my side instead.
As you always should have been., as you'll remain for the rest of eternity, my (f/n)," He said sweetly, running his left thumb beneath her tearing (e/c) right eye.
'All I've ever wanted was your happiness...
Loki...All I wanted was to keep you safe...' she thought with sorrow.
Behind her glassy eyes, she stared out into the world from her puppet state as she was bound to him by a wicked spell. A colossal excess of woe weighed down her lacerated heart as she watched him fall further into the dark abyss he so eagerly drove through headfirst.
She watched him destroy himself, falling more from Grace with each wicked action he gleefully took part in,
'if only I had known...Loki ... Loki- Doki...Are you still in there? Are you still waiting?'
A bittersweet feeling overcame her as she came to a realization that now she was at his side, cuddled with him in the same dark, empty corner he had previously occupied on his own.
Together...
' I won't fail you again,' She thought with a small glimmer of light barely flickering in her expressionless eyes. 'And you won't be alone ...Because I'll always be there.' she thought with selfless commitment.
'I'll always be at your side, and when you fall, I'll make sure to do so as well, ' She swore, ready for the inevitable demise awaiting them.
'My love for you is boundless...'
#Loki Laufeyson x Reader#loki x reader#loki x y/n#loki x you#Loki Laufeyson#loki marvel#tom hiddleston loki#loki fanfic#loki#loki (marvel)#The Avengers#The avengers fanfiction#loki fanfiction#thor#thor movies#the avengers 2012#mcu x#Marvel MCU#MCU loki#mcu reader insert#marvel cinematic universe#marvel fanfic#marvel loki#loki oneshot#loki laufeyson oneshot#tom hiddleston#loki x reader insert#loki 2012#The Avengers fanfic#the avengers reader insert
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So I was having thoughts about a possible Kylo Ren redemption arc again, and why the idea really doesn’t work for me.
Now really, I don’t think it’s going to happen anyway. I think the Last Jedi basically put the kibosh on that concept when it dismantled every bit of Kylo Ren apologia that his fans have ever uttered. But let’s be honest, sometimes creators make very bad decisions. So I suppose it’s still possible.
There’s no way that it can be remotely satisfying though.
The thing about a redemption arc that I think a lot of people miss is that a redemption arc serves a point in the overall story. It’s not just about the character in question. In a way, it’s not even about that character at all, it’s about the role that character plays in the central narrative.
There are main characters and there are side characters, there are allies and there are villains. And ultimately, everything that happens happens to serve the main character(s) story.
Now it is true that some villains are main characters of their stories. Daenerys Targaryen is a good example of this. We followed Daenerys basically from her origin. We saw her grow and change, we saw her defeat and her triumph. We saw her do some amazingly good things and some horribly monstrous ones. The seeds of her fate were planted early on, but there were also plenty of indications that she could go another way. Her fall was tragic (if maybe not the best executed) and we were with her every step of the way.
Kylo Ren is no Daenerys Targaryen and he has never been a protagonist. He’s no Daenerys Targaryen. He’s not even a Tony Soprano or a Walter White. By the time we’re introduced to him, he’s already a monster. He’s already ordering the deaths of an entire village. He’s in the process of murdering an unarmed man. And he’s in the process of hunting one of our protagonists, while another is an enslaved follower.
Each one of Kylo Ren’s appearances in both movies serve to push the actual main characters forward. His massacre causes Finn to rebel. His torture of Poe leads to their alliance and escape. His kidnapping of Rey causes her to learn to defend herself instinctively with the force. His murder of Han fills our heroes with motivating grief and rage. Even in the Last Jedi, while we have lip service to Kylo Ren’s angst and possible redemption, what we really end up with is a plot that shows Rey her own vulnerability and arrogance. He exists, basically, so she can be wrong about him. So that she can be betrayed and return to her people a wiser person.
He is not a protagonist. He’s not a main character. He’s a villain to be defeated. He’s an obstacle to be thwarted. He exists for their stories.
Darth Vader comes up a lot in these discussions. Because of course, Darth Vader is the one who was redeemed. There are a lot of discussions about whether or not Kylo is “better” or “worse” than Vader, when we’re talking about his potential redemption. And I think that’s a bit of a trap. It doesn’t really matter if Vader was better or worse than Kylo, because Vader’s redemption was never really about Darth Vader. it was about Luke Skywalker.
Luke Skywalker started the Original Trilogy with a very clear (wrong) idea about who his father was. (A pilot, war hero.) And soon he had very clear ideas about what a Jedi Knight was. He knew that Darth Vader was the man who killed his father. He knew what he had to do. He blew up the Death Star and saved the galaxy. He went to the ends of the universe on the whim of a ghost to badger his way into training. He fought the most powerful Force User ever, surprisingly effectively for someone with a few days to a few weeks of training. But then he was blindsided by the truth.
Luke Skywalker in Return of the Jedi is a very very different man than Luke Skywalker in A New Hope. He’s older, wiser, sadder and more scarred. And even though Yoda and Obi-Wan have both told him that he has to defeat his enemy, he knows that as a Jedi, he has to do more than that. He has to be more than that. At the pivotal point, he throws away his saber. He reaches his father. His faith and love is rewarded.
That’s LUKE’s triumph. That’s LUKE’s story. It’s Vader’s too, sure, but it’s important for what it means to Luke.
Rey isn’t Luke. If anything, she’s in the opposite position. She grew up with a very different idea of the Jedi. She knew the myth of Luke Skywalker and she knew that he saved Darth Vader. And when he rejected her as a student, she decided that she had to prove herself by repeating his act. She was going to save Kylo Ren.
That was her Cloud City error. That was her equivalent of Luke trying to kill Vader. She didn’t want to save Kylo because he was family. She didn’t want to save Kylo because she loved him. She didn’t KNOW him yet. He was the man who tortured her. She was mislead (by Snoke) into thinking there was something she could reach. And she really wanted to prove Luke wrong. It was ego, and she got hit hard for it when he betrayed her all over again.
Like Luke, Rey was wrong. Like Luke, Rey was injured by it. And like Luke, she’s going to come out of it as a wiser person.
If Kylo Ren does have a redemption arc, that would negate all of Rey’s development in the Last Jedi. Rey was a character for whom everything Force related came easily, too easily by a lot of fan complaints, but that’s why her arc in TLJ was so important. She had to be wrong. She had to learn humility. If she were then proven to be right after all, then she’s got no reason to be a wiser person.
So Rey doesn’t benefit from Kylo Ren’s redemption. Who might?
Leia doesn’t. She had a similar story beat in the Force Awakens. She wanted Han to save her son. He tried and Kylo skewered him. In the Last Jedi, she’s sadder and wiser and when Luke tells her that he will have to fight Kylo and kill him, she accepts that. I’m sure she would be overjoyed to see a Kylo Ren reject the Dark Side, but that’s not the same as an ending to her story. It’s not something that she fought for or earned. (Perhaps things might have been different if she could have a bigger role in Rise of the Skywalker. But unfortunately, her story is fundamentally done.)
It doesn’t benefit Finn or Poe either. Both of them have suffered at the hands of Kylo Ren. And it would make some sense to have a storyline where they have to move past their anger and hate of him. Except, well, that’s not something that the movies have cared to address. When the Last Jedi sidelined both characters, it neatly moved them into plots that had nothing to do with Kylo Ren. Poe is learning to lead (execution of said plot notwithstanding), Finn is coming to terms with his past. Kylo’s irrelevant to the first, and just one face out of many abusers for the second. (It’s more likely that his direct adversary will be Hux, who advocated for the Stormtrooper program that his father started, who hit him and subjugated him directly in TLJ. It’s a much more personal tie than Kylo.) They’d need a whole other movie to establish Kylo’s redemption as being significant in some way to either man.
Han’s story doesn’t benefit. There are those who will claim that he “died for nothing if Kylo isn’t redeemed”. But narratively speaking, he didn’t “die for nothing”. He died to show us that Kylo wasn’t Anakin, and that Kylo wasn’t going to choose his grandfather’s fate.
And honestly, even Kylo Ren’s story doesn’t benefit from a redemption arc. On a narrative level, how would that even work. “Okay, so, I know Kylo has been offered redemption at least three times now and he responded by murdering Lor San Tekka, Han Solo, and trying to murder Rey. The Prequels took the pre-established ending of Return of the Jedi and built a story for Anakin around it. We learned that fundamentally, love and family were at the core of Anakin’s motivation. He fell because of love and he let himself be saved because of love.
But Kylo Ren is OFFERED that kind of love. Han Solo, weeping and unarmed, reaches out to his son only to be skewered. He REJECTS that love. Familial love is not enough.
Rey, a woman that he’s clearly attracted to, makes the same offer. No strings attached. No familial baggage to be an excuse. She reaches out to him, just like every single Reylo-is-canon sort insisted that she should do. And he REJECTS her too. Romantic love is not enough.
There are a lot of debates about whether or not Snoke was abusive, and to what extent he may have influenced Kylo. And certainly the idea of Kylo teaming up with Rey and company to defeat his abuser is an attractive one to a lot of people. Except, well, that actually happens. He and Rey DID team up. They DID kill Snoke. And Kylo Ren ordered his army to stand down, killed Hux when he tried to stop him, and went home peacefully. Wait no, sorry, he took command and doubled down his efforts to murder every last member of the Resistance.
So that means for a redemption arc to work, the writers will have to give us something that is more important to Kylo than family, romantic love, or being free from an abuser to finally reach him and move him off of the path he’s on. Murdering innocent people wasn’t enough, enslaving millions of children wasn’t enough, destroying FIVE PLANETS wasn’t enough.
This isn’t even an Adalind from Grimm sort of situation where her self interest can be used to justify hanging around with the good guys enough to appreciate that they, unlike her previous allies, won’t hang her out to dry. Kylo Ren has literally nothing to plausibly make him want to be a better person.
I can’t say whether Lucasfilms will try to pull off a Kylo Ren redemption arc in the eleventh hour, but I can say that they shouldn’t.
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BASIC INFORMATION:
NAME: Alexandra Liao. AGE: 28. PLACE OF BIRTH: Beijing, China. AFFILIATION: Neutral. OCCUPATION: Chief Treasurer with J.P. Morgan Chase’s Europe branch, as well as a senior analyst and strategist with them internationally. FACE CLAIM: Angelababy. AVAILABILITY: TAKEN.
BIOGRAPHY:
What’s the definition of perfection? People could tell you many things, but for half of Beijing, the raven-haired girl with slender, elegantly tapered fingers and dark eyes enough to pull apart your soul, dulcet tones and quiet words, graceful steps and a presence that borders on not being there at all, lips the colour of faded cherry blossoms and a swan column neck, a mind capable of holding her own against the best of the best, an elite who regarded herself as merely average. For them, perfection has a name. She’s called Alexandra Liao.
She grew up in urban western Beijing, amongst homes that were always empty and seemed to stretch on and on, below the eagle-eyed watch of satellite parents who spent hours buried beneath paperwork and strategic plans, and perhaps it shaped her far more than it should have- ripped the girl from her, burned it to ashes, and built a perfect weapon in its stead. Violin, piano, volleyball, ballet: each and every one of them a game of how much can you take? Alexandra gave each and every last thing her all, but even then, she knew that it wasn’t a choice to be the epitome of perfection. If her parents wanted the stars, Alexandra would give them the planets too.
She was too mature for her age, or so they said. Sliding between the dangerous tightropes that mark the blurry waters between child and adult, teenage years weren’t for recklessness and foolish decisions, rather, Alexandra spent them floating between social event after social event, plunging into the muddy waters that was Beijing’s elite with a courteous smile that flickered into an exhausted grimace. The fact that she went to a private school only served to exhaust her more, her classmates being at those same gatherings too. Alexandra’s accomplishments racked up, national math competition firsts, placing in the top three for international violin and piano competitions, but late at night, exhausted off coming out of several hours of sports and lessons, she could only crumble loosely into bed and pray that someday it’d all stop, but that was always too much to hope for.
First place rankings in school, first places in the Menuhin and International Tchaikovsky: Behind each and every accomplishment was a girl who bled for it all, someone who slept at twelve and woke at five, someone who racked up over thirty hours of instrument practice per week. Someone who was still the same quiet and intelligent girl from before, but now was willing to give everything. Anything, and everything she had. (Some would say that she’d paid more than what she owed.)
Her parents looked on approvingly; Alexandra’s smiles became sharper at the edges and more forced, the dark circles around her eyes becoming steadily more and more pronounced. Her people-reading and analysis skills grew; she’d always been astute, but it only seemed that throughout her high school years, they became honed to a deadly point.
Although, when applied to her parents, alarming trends began to emerge. The whispers had never entirely faded about the two, but the whispers, they said that her parents had connections, knew people. That they knew things, a lot of things, things that people desperately tried to bury, things no one should ever know. No one, by any means, was always entirely clean, and it seemed that her parents knew it all. You couldn’t hide anything from them.
She chose to wilfully ignore it all, because it was all still rumour, still speculation, still nothing but blind guesses.
First place ranking and class representative for three years. Menuhin first place wins. International Chopin fifth and third. International Tchaikovsky silver. Bronze, silver, then gold at volleyball nationals, last as captain. China’s International Math Olympiad Team gold for two years, second as captain. The list of her accomplishments went on and on, as did her severe exhaustion and sleep deprivation. Yet, she kept poise with four hours of sleep what many couldn’t do with eight. Whenever others suggested she take a break, she only laughed it off, and said that there wasn’t a choice to quit or fail anymore.
High school exams came, and she passed with a perfect. SATs returned the same. She spoke as valedictorian. Alexandra garnered the attention of several elite schools, and out of the dozen that arrived at her doorstep, she chose Harvard, intending on pursuing business.
Eighteen years had bred someone who was all at once a little less and more than human. She was a god, she was a monster, she was a machine, she was a weapon. No matter what you said, the end result was all the same: Alexandra Liao wasn’t human. She couldn’t have been. No sane person would be able to do the things that she had, could keep up the same smiles day after day, could play the same pieces week after week, could swim and not drown. Alexandra knew what people thought, her only reply was a sardonic smile and a singular, round and round we spin, with feet of lead and wings of tin.
The only way she could keep going was by that same momentum. People had a dangerous tendency to underestimate the strength of her heart and will, and it was that same drive that pushed her forwards, because there was only forwards- going back was impossible. And to most, that was impossible: it made you a monster and god, a robot, but to Alexandra, it was the only way she could just be.
So yes. Quiet. Elegant. Erudite. Polite. Tired. Sad. Determined. Loyal. Cunning. Calculated. A million things that could not and should not exist in one person: they did in her.
That same combination also doomed her as a ticking time bomb. For years, she’d been compartmentalizing, had been letting her irritation fall into neat boxes, but it only seemed that she’d been doing it for far too long. The summer after she graduated, one evening in Berlin, Alexandra simply couldn’t box it up any longer, flinging question after furious question to her parents.
They gave her the truth. They were information brokers. Not corrupt, but rather, nexus points with ties to the underground. Not directly part, but rather, silent observers, people that knew everything but seemed to know nothing, divulging things almost never. They were neutral, uninvolved.
The other truth though? Alexandra couldn’t deal with that truth. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out. How? What? When? Who? Why? Two weeks later, she moved into a dorm at Harvard, and for the next four, said nothing to her parents, and didn’t visit China.
She managed to weather university better than most, known to professors as hardworking, intelligent, and sharp. Two weeks after her undergrad, a single message showed up on her phone, and the world crashed around her. She’d gone four years without dealing with her parents, but they were broaching the topic again. Again. After all the running, hiding, avoiding, they wanted her back. They wanted her to do what they had done. Alexandra didn’t refuse, because refusal wasn’t a choice any longer.
The business textbooks and layers of papers, faces of businessmen and politicians and criminals plastered onto walls in complicated nets dotted her room, and two years later, Alexandra graduated as valedictorian. An heir.
The next three years would be spent at J.P. Morgan’s headquarters in NYC, with Alexandra rapidly jumping up to the position of senior analyst at Treasury. She’d become known as a strategy nexus and nearly infallible predictor and analyst, a part of the team known as the Crows. Still, she did not forget her parents’ command, and her listener nature only made people all the more prone to blurting out things.
The end of her fourth year came, and Alexandra was shifted to London, promoted to Chief Treasurer of their European Branch. She was fine being a civilian. Alexandra Liao did not want to, and had no intention of becoming involved in the darker workings of the world. The young woman herself did not think much of her side job.
There were some things she was perfectly content not knowing, but perhaps knowing the darkness of the world is the only way to counter it. To survive it. To thrive.
Alexandra Liao isn’t sure how this is going to turn out. For now, she’s going to watch from the sidelines. She’s going to be a hawk, and let her sharp eyes narrow in on every corner in this city, not letting a single thing slip. She’ll let her parents know what’s going on, she’ll quietly come to her own conclusions and perhaps let a few things slip here and there as she sees fit.
The thing is though, by no fault of her own, she’s already in over her head. Alexandra Liao is someone who has too many tangled connections to this world, to this life, and no matter how hard she tries to stay neutral, how hard she tries to run, how hard she is going to fight to stop herself from getting sucked into this vortex, has to be a ghost because you can’t hunt them down.
If nothing else, there is one thing she knows with certainty. No matter what, she has to hide, she has to stay out of it all, she has to avoid getting involved, she has to avoid this world altogether. Still, she’s not naive enough to realize just how deadly the position she’s trapped in is for herself and for the others in this city.
In this world, next to a dead body, information is what everyone wants the most.
And she’s the one who knows it all.
SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. FAMILY: Liao Huning (father, unplayable) Wang Chunlan (mother, unplayable)
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Supercat: Cat must help a dying Kara after she is stabbed with a kryptonite knife when she was protecting Cat (happy ending ofc).
Honestly, Kara is going to kill Cat one of these days.
(Okay, so the wince she made at even thinking that meant it probably wasn’t going to happen, but still. The woman is tiny and distressingly human, and yet she insists on provoking her enemies as if she has Kara’s invulnerability. And after the third time she’d had to save Cat from said enemies, Kara had been getting tired of it.)
On one hand she gets it. Cat’s greatest weapons are her words, and she wields them without hesitation. And angry people make mistakes, overlook the facts of a situation, and generally don’t think clearly enough to win. Especially when faced with a superpowered Kryptonian with a personal stake in the fight.
But on the other, angry enemies would fight harder than a calm one, and were far less likely to listen to reason. When Cat finished pissing them off, the only way to end things was with Kara knocking someone unconscious. And when the other side were humans, was almost harder to accomplish than when she ended up fighting aliens. Most aliens she could put through a wall or two, but humans weren’t built for something like that.
This time she’s pretty sure her opponent is alien, or maybe metahuman. She can’t tell for sure, but the strength behind the punches she’s taking is definitely more than a human can throw. The man appears relatively indistinct, dressed like any other corporate office worker she’d passed on her way to work.
He didn’t fight like one though, there was a confidence in every movement that spoke to years of practice, and his strength is clearly beyond any human in the room. Still, Kara can’t use her full strength to end this quickly. The last time she’d taken out a wall at CatCo she’d heard about it for a month.
After that she’d decided there was a definite downside to Cat knowing the truth, because the lectures hadn’t been limited to an occasional evening meeting on the balcony. No, she’d been lectured any time they crossed paths in the CatCo building. Any time Cat could slip in a comment about carelessness or attention to detail.
It didn’t help that the lecturing set the slow development of their relationship back what seemed like half a year. After the Daxamites, after the return from Washington, Kara had been sure they were heading somewhere specific. Towards something more than just boss and employee. And she’d really been looking forward to it.
Then the attack, and the accident, and the minor structural damage to CatCo’s main executive conference room. Suddenly the level of cutting comments went right back to around the time Siobhan had been Assistant #1, and Kara hated it. Even the fact Cat never went back to calling her Keira no matter how she sniped could make up for it.
The worst had only lasted a week, but that was enough for Kara. After that she’d been a lot more careful where her opponents landed after she landed a blow. Nothing was worse than an upset Cat Grant. At least when Kara avoided property damage someone else could take the blame for the disruption.
At times like these she wished Cat would make that a little easier on her, but then again if Cat kept quiet Kara would probably be worried she’d hit her head at some point during the attack. The woman had a system by now, one Kara had become far too familiar with for comfort.
A quip tossed out during the initial posturing, one that pissed off the threat of the week and got them to wax poetic about why they felt the need to come after the CEO. It would start with back and forth usually lasted about two minutes, and gave Kara the cover she needed to slip away unnoticed (Cat had pointed out with almost uncharacteristic kindness just how obvious some of her departures had been over the years, and since then Kara was making a concerted effort to be more discreet).
After that Supergirl would appear, seemingly attracted by the raised voices. A few quick introductory blows would be traded, Kara carefully gauging her opponent’s strength and physical durability while Cat watched from the sidelines, temporarily silent.
Once everyone understood what they were up against the fight would start in earnest. If things were calm enough Kara would try to talk whoever it was down and get them to surrender. It didn’t work often, but she felt better for trying.
More often than that, whatever the newest attacker had spouted off during the first exchange of words had Cat ready to spit fire. When that happened, as soon as it was obvious Kara wasn’t horribly outmatched Cat would chime in from the sidelines. No matter how Kara glared it never changed anything, and today was no exception.
“Cat, you’re not helping,” Kara calls as the woman tosses out another comment, ducking another blow before returning it with one of her own. She can’t quite find the right level of strength this time around, every punch she’s landed so far was shaken off as if it were nothing.
That resistance is a little concerning, but Kara isn’t too worried. The speed and strength of the man’s punches aren’t anywhere near dangerous to her, and the DEO is on the way to help if this takes much longer. Cat knows to call them in if the fight lasts longer than five minutes, and by Kara’s count they’re heading towards minute seven. Between two superpowered aliens and Alex’s personally trained strike team, even a higher damage resistance won’t be enough to protect the guy.
“Well obviously I’m not helping, do I look like I can kickbox in this skirt?” Cat says from where she’s crouched behind her reinforced desk. Kara might recognize that keeping Cat quiet during a fight is a lost cause, but she’s not going to let the woman remain unprotected while she tosses her comments around. A specially reinforced desk designed to stand up to even Kryptonian blows (at least the first few) and strict orders to stay behind it until the fight is over have managed to keep her safe so far.
“It’s not your help fighting I want, it’s-���
Kara stops talking abruptly as she feels a moment of disorientation, refocusing her complete attention on her opponent just in time to watch the Kryptonite blade sink into her stomach.
The sound of shouting echoes in the distance, barely audible over the rushing of blood in her ears as Kara sinks to her knees, one hand lifting to grab uselessly at the knife. She doesn’t have the strength to pull it out, not when she can feel the poison beginning to rush through her veins as the radiation spreads through her bloodstream.
A fist swings at her head, and Kara can’t move out of the way in time. It sends her sprawling back, a new wave of agony washing through her as the knife in her abdomen shifts. As she lands the room starts to spin around her. That seems like a bad thing, but Kara can’t focus enough to say why. Her brain feels like it’s floating away from the rest of her body, connected only by a line of pain that sends off sparks every time she takes a breath or shifts even slightly.
Warm hands cup her cheeks as new sounds start to make it past the pain. There are bullets firing, and familiar voices calling orders. The DEO must have arrived to finish the fight. That’s good. Alex and J’onn can handle the threat, and Kara can rest. Rest sounds wonderful right now. She can just close her eyes and drift off, and leave the pain and fighting behind for a while.
“Kara, you stay awake, do you hear me? Open your eyes, you are not dying on me.” If it were anyone other than Cat, or if Kara didn’t have years of responding instantly to a command from that voice, it wouldn’t have done any good. But Cat is asking something of her, and Kara would never want to disappoint. Not when Cat needs her. Not when Kara would fight the sun itself to keep a smile on Cat’s face.
“Okay,” Kara manages to slur out, forcing her eyes open to meet the concerned gaze.
There are tears in Cat’s eyes, and somehow that hurts more than the Kryptonite still poisoning her. Cat shouldn’t be crying. Kara is supposed to keep her happy. That’s all she’s wanted to do for years now. First as Cat’s assistant, and then as whatever they are to each other now. Maybe someday she’d have the chance to keep Cat happy as something more than just friends. But whatever the case, Kara hates to see Cat cry.
“You said no crying at work,” Kara says, moving one hand from where she’d been clutching the knife to trace along Cat’s cheek, trying to wipe the tears away. She leaves a streak of red behind that makes Cat flinch, and it takes a moment for Kara to realize it’s her blood. She’s bleeding. She shouldn’t be bleeding.
“I’m the boss, I get to make an exception,” Cat says, reaching down to press against the wound in a way that makes Kara hiss. “I’m sorry, I know, but we have to keep the pressure on until Alex can get here. She’ll know what to do.”
“Take it out,” Kara begs as a new wave of pain rushes through her. She can feel the Kryptonite steadily weakening her, and she needs it to be as far away as possible as quickly as possible. “Please, Cat, take it out.”
“If I do that you could bleed to death, we need to wait for Alex,” Cat whispers, looking torn. “They’ve almost got him, Kara. Just hold on for a few more minutes.”
“If you take it out, I’ll heal,” Kara promises. “Please, Cat.”
The seconds of indecision are agony, but Cat Grant has rarely hesitated in the face of crisis. Today is no different, and when the pleading in Kara’s voice finally breaks through and makes the decision for her, Cat acts quickly. With a single quick tug the knife is gone, and a quick toss has it spinning across the bullpen until it’s far enough that Kara doesn’t feel it anymore.
She can feel the lingering effects of the poison in her bloodstream, but without the actual substance nearby she’s starting to feel better already. The steady waves of pain from her abdomen are receding, and Kara knows the wound is slowly closing. She’s in no shape to rejoin the fight, but she trusts Alex and J’onn to take care of that.
“Oh, thank God,” Cat exclaims as the last of Kara’s skin heals over. “You aren’t allowed to worry me like that ever again.”
“I don’t think I can promise that,” Kara says as she slowly sits up, Cat helping until they’re both sitting upright and leaning back against one of the sofas. Cat’s arm is still around Kara’s shoulder, and in the distance she can hear sounds of victory from the DEO agents. That means Alex will be running through the door any second now, but Kara has a few moments.
It’s long enough to press a soft kiss to Cat’s lips, long enough to wait through the startled gasp at the contact, long enough for Cat to return the kiss. They’d been circling around this for far too long, and after today’s events Kara isn’t interested in circling any longer. She wants this, and they can figure out the rest later.
And maybe while they’re figuring that out, she can get Cat to stop taunting every second rate villain of the week and making Kara’s job harder.
After all, she has far more effective methods of persuasion available to her now. Ones Kara doubts Cat will argue with.
#supergirl#supergirl fic#supercat#supercat fic#prompt fill#tw blood#tw knives#don't worry it's a happy ending as requested
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I wanted Jonerys to be canon since season 1 then season 7 happened and Dany pissed me off. I was introduced to Jonsa through your meta and it convinced me of Jonsa but let me tell you I haven't fully embraced them yet because I am skeptical. Most of the times the fans come up with these amazing metas only to be disappointed so I will not let myself get too attached to this ship. However what I want to know is that How did you start shipping Sansa and Jon? What made you see them as a couple?
First, sorry it took me forever to answer this ask. I’m so sorry, I got busy and I’m a terrible procrastinator.
I’m super honored that my little ole Jonsa meta introduced you to this ship and convinced you. You have no idea how happy that makes me. I don’t blame you for being skeptical tho anon. I’m used to shipping non-canon less obvious ships so it’s easy for me But I know a lot of people have a hard time latching on to things that are heavily built on subtext and go against what appears to be the more blatant direction the show or text wants you to go in. I’m a hoe for subtext and nuance so Jonsa was right up my alley but I know everyone isn’t like that So yeah I don’t blame you for not wanting to get attached because it’s hard to see good theories go to hell because sometimes viewers are smarter than the creators. I don’t think that’s the case with GOT/asoiaf which works in our favor.
So you want to know how did I start shipping Sansa and Jon and What made me see them as a couple. Here’s my journey:
When season 6 started I was looking forward to seeing what happened with Sansa. Last we saw her she was jumping off the walls of Winterfell with Theon. I knew it was inevitable that if she Survived the jump she would make her way to the wall and Jon. I had been waiting for a stark reunion for seasons and even tho Jon and Sansa were the last two I expected to reunite first, I couldn’t wait to see the reunion happen. I knew no matter what it would be emotional and satisfying. I was not prepared for how big the reunion felt and what came after. The way it was handled gave me serious emotions that I never expected to feel so strongly and found the way they handled to be interesting but I never looked deeper into it because I didn’t see a reason to. However the season continued and gradually Jon and Sansa’s relationship started to feel like a really big deal. It was more than just two starks coming together after all this time, it felt like the start of the resurgence of House Stark with Jon and Sansa at the center as equals. This was surprising to me because as I said I never ever predicted these two stark siblings to be the most linked as the series starts to get wind down. Every one of their interactions felt important and game changing even before I saw the potential for romance and it wasn’t just because they were starks but it was because of the way they were written and the way their scenes were framed. Sansa touching Jon’s hand felt huge even if I couldn’t quite figure how why. Sansa giving Jon his cloak modeled after their father’s felt like a monumental development, Jon deciding to fight a war he has no interest in fighting for Sansa and his family felt like it was huge for Jon. I felt like being around each other brought some important developments to both Jon and Sansa as characters at a crucial time and changed things for them and the entire plot of the show. Even without romance you just got the sense that these two people together were important for a reason beyond just being newly reunited siblings . The narrative centered the two of them and Sansa as a character in a way they had not done for Sansa and other couples in seasons prior and I didn’t know why at the time but I remember feeling like the answer to why would come and would surprise me and everyone else.
They very clearly put lots of effort into how they handled Jon and Sansa in season 6 and they were the driving forces behind the resurgence of house stark so it was clear that the future of the house connected to the two of them in some way. Marriage/romance just never crossed my mind because based on the knowledge I had Starks don’t do incest. When I noticed an odd tension that could be interpreted as sexual/romantic towards the end of season 6 (particular the tent scene, the forehead kiss and everything post BOTB) I brushed it off for the reason I mentioned above but my fascination with that tension never went away. It was there, but I didn’t know why and I couldn’t wrap head around a possible answer so I just didn’t dwell on it.
Season 6 ended with the Jon being a targaryen reveal and obviously that was a big reveal and would be major but IMO the moment Jon was named King in the North was the bigger game changer of the two. Jon had amassed power and loyalty before but it was always connected to the wall which was isolated from the rest of the storylines. Suddenly that wasn’t the case anymore and Jon is given power over the entire north. Suddenly Jon is in the middle of the game at a time where it’s stakes are about the be the highest they have ever been…..and only one person was at his side when it happened….Sansa. Jon being named King in the North shook me because up until that point he and Sansa were equals in the future of house stark, neither wanted to be elevated above the other. Jon didn’t even seem to want to be an equal he seemed content to hand Sansa what was rightfully hers. We even watch them discuss who would take the Lord’s chambers and both believe the other deserve it. They talk about being in this together and trust and it’s clear that they just want to rebuild their home together, as equals but then suddenly Jon becomes the power player. It made me wonder where that would leave Sansa, who clearly wants to be and deserves to be at Jon’s side and an equal. The scene where he’s named King even starts with Jon and Sansa side by side listening to their bannermen and the lords of the Vale together. At that point I was like “aww the stark siblings are gonna run Winterfell together this is perfect” then Jon is named King and Sansa is left at his side with an ambiguous expression on her face but appears to support him and I was stuck.
Jon being named King changed everything to me. Kings don’t run their kingdoms with their sisters unless they are a targaryen who’s married to one lol. Basically after that there was no way Sansa could truly be Jon’s equal unless she somehow became his queen and Sansa can’t be his queen because she’s his sister and Starks don’t do incest. Sansa clearly had a role to play in the north but now I wasn’t sure what that role was going to be. We went from a narrative where Jon and Sansa were centered to one where Jon alone is being centered when it comes to the north but I knew there was no way Sansa would just disappear into the background. LF had already let it slip that Sansa could sit at his side on the iron throne so Sansa was still a factor in the larger game. That was my line of thinking so it caused this dilemma where I wasn’t sure what to think or where this was headed but I knew that Jon and Sansa were not gonna be torn apart on season 7 like they wanted us to believe and that Sansa’s rise to power would not be ending with this.
Then season 7 started and Right away my confusion from the end of season 6 disappears. Immediately Sansa’s position is clear:
“Ned starks bastard has been named King in the North and that murdering whore stands beside him” -Ceresi Lannister
Right off the bat Sansa is positioned at a power player at Jon’s side, as a de facto queen, not as a sister chillen on the sidelines as her brother rules a kingdom. Cersei’s quote immediately stood out to me because it was an odd but direct parallel with Ceresi and Jamie. Ceresi rules as queen as her lover and brother stands at her side. It felt like an odd connection to make at the time but it fit and was too blatant to deny so my spidey sense immediately went off.
Next we actually see Sansa at Jon’s side in exactly the way Ceresi described. Jon attempts to rule with Sansa at his side and Jon clearly has command of his people but Sansa isn’t a silent passive prop like a sister of the king usually would be. Sansa intervenes in front of the Lords leading to some awkward tension and and confusion on my part.
Then we see them bicker and the way it’s framed becomes too obvious for me to ignore. They are framed like a husband and wife, they hit below the belt and compromise and seek validation from each other like married people do. Nothing about that Shit felt like two normal royal siblings so I was fascinated. They Lord over Winterfell like they are Ned and Catelyn reincarnated which is super weird for two siblings. There was also this sense that there was something being left unsaid between them. Like this weird tension that’s unexplainable didn’t just come out of nowhere. After this I was pretty much convinced that Sansa was gonna be positioned as a queen at Jon’s side and I found the prospect to be exciting and fascinating , but that confused me because I had the same block I had before…..how can Sansa be Jon’s queen when she’s his sister/cousin and Starks don’t do incest? I felt the urge to ship but shipping them romantically didn’t make sense because Starks and incest don’t go together. So once again I brushed my feelings off and stopped myself from shipping it thinking I was reading too much into it all.
In the following days after the premiere aired the stills for episode 2 dropped and we get a picture of Jon leaving Winterfell looking back at what’s more than likely Sansa with such hesitation and overwhelming affection in his eyes and we get one of Sansa looking out to Jon leave as if she’s saying goodbye to her husband aganist her will be she determined to hold their home down while he’s gone. I was like “holy shit why do they look like husband and wife separating” I was shook shook shookity shook. I was basically Jonsa trash from that moment on because the Shit was undeniable but I was still in denial because….you guessed it, Starks don’t do incest…..
Then somebody finally decided to put me on game and told me that Starks actually do practice incest between cousins and that Ned’s parents were cousins and that it’s actually really common in Westeros among noble houses and after that it all made so much damn sense I hopped my ass on board and knew I would be going down with this ship.
I started to see them as a couple and as a legitimate possibility because the politics made sense they always made sense and far more sense than any alternative. Sansa bend the key to the north since and being groomed for ruling since season 1 started to come full circle. The connection to build on was clearly there, they were so important to each other and came to each other at a crucial time. Their affection felt tangible even tho neither is keen on expressing it verbally. The two of them just fit and them being centered as the roots from which house stark gets to flourish once again in season 6 started to make all the sense in the world and appeared to indeed be deliberate like I thought it was. Sansa was clearly the queen the North needed and the queen Jon needed at his side. He would do anything for her, he would love her in a really pure and overwhelming way that she deserves after all she’s been through. They had a dynamic that allowed them to challenge each other and still have a very healthy and loving dynamic. Sansa and and Jon are better together. They share the same core values and beliefs and where one is weak the other balances them out.
they are at their best when they are closely bound and at the center of their house and nothing could seal that like a potential romance/marriage. Sansa was the balance that Jon needed to be the great ruler that he is clearly meant to be. Jon was the man that Sansa needed to make all the scars hurt a little bit less. I started to see them as a couple because they were framed as one and acted as one and could actually make a really great one. Once I realized that the incest hurdle was conquerable it was actually super easy to see Jon and Sansa as a couple and see them as a legitimate possibility for the future.
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the krystal discussion
[ Conversation Continued from Here! | @laelaloo ]
Not wanting to reblog my ask because it looks really weird on the layouts otherwise. This is a conversation I really want to talk about more or less because I have a LOT of thoughts on this subject.
OOC: I think the worst thing about it, is if you read the plot on Rare Thief (Look Here!) if you look into her character biography and the synopsis? She had a MUCH bigger role, to begin with, and while the trauma she faces is smaller in scale, is treated better with more detail and weight. She was the other storyline going on in Dinosaur Planet, and it wouldn’t have been hard at all to keep the story the same but with two characters. There’s a lot of interesting voice acting clips too. Including revelation that the Krazoa were actually kinda fucked up.
This is what I meant she had her narrative taken away from her - because it was.
Star Fox Adventures to me is the one game in the series I have a love-hate relationship with because it was absolutely gorgeous with this incredible effort in the world building, aesthetic, and then they removed a lot of the substance. There was at one point where Peppy and Slippy were out of the Great Fox. Whether they were going to be playable or not, that we’ll probably not know? But this would also explain the incredibly cool game cover art as well if they were going to be major players. Drakor was going to be a major player rather than a random boss fight. ( And I’m saying this with confirmation if you look at this promo here. )
I honestly can see why Nintendo would totally be okay with Star Fox put into this universe. It easily could have fit.
The plot for Dinosaur Planet wouldn’t be too hard to transfer to the Star Fox universe, especially since it seems they were initially going to go with that with Drakor playing an important role and all with the Krazoa also being a looming evil force as well. While Scales was ultimately going to be the same role of being a pawn of Drakor’s -- it sounded like there was going to be a showdown between him and Krystal in the first concept if we are to read the plot synopsis of Dinosaur Planet.
As for how I would personally fix Krystal? We got a decent base, she is kind and has a strong sense of justice, not to mention she’s incredibly headstrong.
Although I notice many people shit on Command for good reason, there is ONE thing I see consistently in it when she’s NOT being arm candy for Fox/Panther/Wolf. ( Yes, in Japanese, she does not run off to Star Wolf to be with Panther -- its to glorify Wolf, make Fox look more like a loser and Wolf cooler... Ugh.) Krystal steps up, gets her shit together before the rest of the group does to take justice into her own hands even if she was driven out of Star Fox. She isn’t here to sit on the sidelines, she’s going to go head first into battle and take action, whether she has to go outside of people’s permission to do it.
In almost all the endings, especially in endings where you do the ending, you’re not supposed to do. (Such as taking down Pigma.) She actually gets shit done with either Star Fox or Star Wolf off-screen. This says a lot about her resolve and determination, which can definitely go some places. While a lot of people argue to keep her out of the cockpit, I believe she can be integrated into the team fairly well if we went with the context that Slippy, Peppy, and Falco.
There are more obvious hints of her being underestimated in Assault (Even if I dislike the game with a passion and how it’s written) of her competence. (This is shown more clearly in Japanese, where there is more emotion.) The fact is, Fox is a dick who consistently interrupts her, underestimates her, and belittles her as a form of ‘protecting’ her. (Foreshadowing what would happen in Command...) This is why at the Sauria briefing her body language in game screams of being angry at being snubbed. The fact is Krystal is not some ‘newbie’ when it comes to piloting as shown that she was able to get to Sauria via distress signal -- or even the end of Adventures. She knows how to operate ships. Krystal is just a type of person who doesn’t want to be held back when she has a goal in mind and focuses on point a to point b but may miss things that might hit her from outside her line of sight.
Krystal is confident in her abilities. She DOES know what she’s doing. But there is this edge of danger to her that she will do if she’s left unattended. Whereas in the other plots of Star Fox Command where Fox or Star Wolf have to go and clean the Venom Sea to get down there? In the path leading to the third ending?
KRYSTAL: I was with them up until we destroyed the Anglar headquarters. KRYSTAL: The one at the bottom of the Venom sea. KRYSTAL: When we were finished, our ships began to corrode. KRYSTAL: When we pulled out, we ended up getting scattered. SLIPPY: You flew into the Venom Sea? That thing is pure acid! SLIPPY: You're crazy!
Krystal. Is. Reckless. No time to look for it, we got to stop him now, let’s do this.This is another trait to be built into her. Her sense of bringing justice is so strong, she goes into a dangerous as hell situation.
That being said I’m more or less not really too attached to her being from a different world or culture, especially if they’re not going to do anything with it. Perhaps go back to basics, something smaller but still enough to drive her and set the seeds that would grow into her desire for helping others and doing justice. Telepathy, Empathy, and Telekinesis are already a thing in Lylat anyway so... (See: Peppy and Andross.) But if they’re going to do the whole planetary destruction thing, they should actually genuinely make it matter.
More or less, Krystal is an anime protagonist. She has the ability to stand on her own as her own character. (See what her original concept for Dinosaur Planet was, even if it was very GRRL POWER!!! of the late 90s ... ) and was initially written to be driven, to take action, so the fact the story doesn’t allow her to do anything due to Diabolus ex Nihilo is distressing.
Basically to start treating Krystal as her own character, we got to understand her own narrative -- which means not making her arm candy or an item to be won. This is not saying she cannot have romance, but to define her by her relationships is the worst way to go about it when there is a lot more to go from here especially if she's going to be a focus character. (Amanda for that reason I don't mind, is because in the long haul of it she's relatively unimportant to the narrative.) In order to achieve this, I believe Krystal needs to be more like Katt. Who isn't defined by her romance to Falco, even her romantic interest is a part of her character. She's also a person to take action as seen within her history in 64 and even Farewell Beloved Falco. Krystal has the traits all there to make a solid character who is driven, but she just nees to be given a chance.
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Weep For Me Chapter 3: Fugitive From Heaven
AN: I tagged my Forever Tags people in this chapter. If you got tagged and you haven’t read the series yet, the masterlist is below the warnings.
Characters: FemAngelOC (Aniela), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel
Pairing: Dean x OC (Aniela)
Series (Temp) Summary: Three chance encounters. The first, a split decision that marks their change in destinies. The second, a failed test of morals. An event only one experienced, and then third–the beginning.
Chapter Summary: Aniela runs from heaven until she can remember who she is, managing to help the Winchesters along the way. The Winchesters and Castiel divert the apocalypse. The civil war between the angels ignites...and Aniela leaps right into trouble.
Warnings: Violence, Angst, Language (Just a smidge)
Masterlist
Word Count: 5171
Aniela had no intention of going back to heaven.
She remembered everything they had made her forget, right up to the moment of her battalion's betrayal. She didn’t remember what was done to her, much to her frustration, but considering what had happened beforehand and how the overseeing angels had acted, how she‘d acted because of whatever they’d done, she was sure the angels did it.
But oh, she did miss heaven...the siblings she’d gotten along with...it was her home, her family...but she could not safely go back. And after what was done to her, she was not sure she could trust them anyway.
And what she’d done...to Sam, and by default Dean. She couldn’t get that look on his face out of her mind, and she felt...guilt and remorse for what she had done when she wasn‘t herself. Perhaps even a stronger emotion, like...devastation. What a wonderful first impression to make on the human she’d become so invested in. He‘d most likely only see her as the angel who tortured his brother for the rest of eternity.
Those where the thoughts she had when she was by herself, however. The rest of the time she was focused on trying to disappear among the humans. She was no fool, she knew she didn’t know them well enough to blend in yet, so she kept to herself, avoiding the urban areas at first and sticking to more rural or isolated spots on Earth when she was still recovering her sense of self, and then gradually incorporating herself into the world as much as she dared after she’d recovered what she could of her memories and was herself again.
Besides, her loneliness was too strong for her to stay in isolation forever. She’d never been one for being all alone, and that‘s what she was now. Alone. It was just her, no one else.
She couldn’t watch the Winchesters from heaven, not since Castiel had hidden them from sight of the angels, and she wasn’t about to go looking for them right now, considering she was pretty sure they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. She could always look for Castiel, but chances were, wherever Castiel was, so were the Winchesters.
But she also wasn’t built to stay on the sidelines, to stay out of the fight, for extended periods of time. The smart thing was to lay low, keep to herself...but the angels were trying to force the apocalypse that would lead to the devastation of Earth, and right now the Winchesters and Castiel were the only ones trying to stop it.
If she could just find them...maybe she could help from a distance. Maybe she could keep the angels off of them, relieve some of the pressure in their quest. Though that would get tricky, considering she was also on the run from heaven herself and wanted to keep her head low so she didn’t get captured and dragged back to heaven.
So continued her back and forth over whether or not she should go find the Winchesters and her brother, or if she should continue on her own. At present, she wasn’t doing anything--the apocalypse was headed towards them at an alarmingly fast rate, yet she just drifted from city to city on Earth, watching the humans, trying to learn their habits and about the things they enjoyed, and trying to figure out what her new direction was now that she remembered herself.
She would have been more worried about her brothers and sisters looking for her already if she hadn’t been aware that to them, she was just one stray confused angel they could look for after they handled the more important apocalypse. So long as she didn’t meddle in the apocalypse or do anything that could concern heaven in any way, she‘d be left alone while the apocalypse went on.
But again, knowing that the angels were trying to force the apocalypse because they wanted it to happen and no other reason...that wasn’t something she could let stand.
Well...it sounded like she knew what she was going to do.
The angels seemed to be getting more desperate to control the Winchesters.
She hadn’t found them--she wasn‘t that lucky--but she had been listening in on what the angels were doing whenever she could, hoping that she could hear of something she could prevent or hear about a lead on the Winchesters and hopefully get there first. And she had heard of a plan that made her uneasy but also gave her a thrill of...excitement, perhaps.
The Winchesters had apparently died a few times, and each time had been resurrected--and not by any angels or demons.
That led Aniela to believe God was watching everything that was happening, and he wanted Sam and Dean alive.
Something the angel Anna apparently hadn’t grasped, as Aniela had heard she had tried to go back in time and stop at least Sam from ever being born.
It was kind of thrilling to realize God was involved in everything going on to some degree. When she’d discovered God had left...well, when she‘d initially heard, she’d been under the angel’s control. Realizing it for herself, however, had been more of a devastating blow, to know that he‘d left and they were on their own, that while they‘d thought they‘d been doing God‘s work all these centuries he‘d actually left so long ago and they‘d been doing what their older siblings said.
Hearing what the angels hoped to do if Sam and Dean died and went to heaven again was the disturbing part. Knowing that the angels wanted to get their hands on their souls and keep them trapped in heaven until they were ready to say yes was appalling.
And she wanted to do her part to try and stop it.
But she couldn’t find them on Earth...so she’d just have to wait for them in heaven.
Going back to heaven went against every grain of her being that wanted to survive, or at least keep a sense of herself. Her sense of self-preservation screamed at her how foolish she was being, asking how she planned to go to heaven without any angels noticing.
She hid in the human’s heavens. She‘d slipped out of heaven with only Castiel noticing before, she could slip in without anyone picking up she was there. Once inside, she stuck with the humans, the little guys who had hardly made a visible impact on the world, where the angels hardly went, and she waited.
Several times she barely managed to slip out of one heaven into another without being caught by an angel who’d come to check up on it‘s resident, and each time reminded her what was at stake, how much she was risking for the chance that Sam and Dean might get killed again and end up in heaven once more. Every time she had a close call, she itched to leave, to get out of there if only for her own sake.
But she stayed. She stayed, and eventually, it paid off.
It was just another job that got them--not angels or demons, just another job that went terribly wrong. The witch they had been hunting had been a few steps ahead of them, and they hadn’t found the hex bag in time. So, they ended up in heaven. As soon as Aniela heard they were in heaven, she started navigating through to find them before the other angels did. It wasn’t easy to do that when Sam and Dean were jumping around as well, but once she found their trail, it would be easy to catch up.
Despite the fact she’d been waiting for them, she didn‘t reach them first. Some angels acting on Zachariah‘s orders were already there when Aniela stepped into the motel room of the heaven they were in--a part of Dean’s heaven, she believed--Sam and Dean on the ground and slightly bloodied while Zach’s underlings continued to try and beat them into submission.
Aniela's angel blade dropped down the sleeve of her dark brown leather jacket into her hand. Most angels ended up wearing suits and ties for some reason, but such clothes had felt stuffy for Aniela, and she liked the clothes her vessel had been wearing--the simple teal tank top, the dark brown leather jacket, the dark blue jeans that were now a little torn and ripped after all the fighting she’d been in, and the sturdy brown boots that went up to her calf.
“Hey!“ she shouted over the noise of the current scuffle, and for a moment, the angels paused, turning to look at Aniela. She rolled her shoulders, letting that angelic glow shine from her vessel just enough for her grand wings to show. It was definitely a power display, but if she could avoid killing her brothers and sisters acting on orders, she would.
But Dean, and Sam--humanity--was her priority.
“Let them go. Zachariah won’t have them today,“ Aniela commanded, keeping her gaze centered on the four in front of her and avoiding looking at the Winchesters who were staring at her from their place on the ground.
“You!“ one of the angels exclaimed, a spark of recognition lighting in his eyes. They started to step towards her, and Aniela shifted her stance to a more ready position, lifting her blade between herself and her siblings.
“I do not want to shed more blood in heaven--especially that of my siblings...but if you don‘t leave now, so help me, I will,“ Aniela threatened, her voice low.
“You‘re the traitor here--not us,“ the same angel who‘s recognized her spat before lunging at her.
Aniela stepped to the side, grabbing the angel’s arm and, before he could slow his momentum and shift into another attack, used that momentum against him and pulled him forward into her awaiting blade, the bright light of an angel dying causing the Winchester’s to shield their eyes while Aniela pushed her brother away and moved to the next.
There was a certain shock at killing one of her own, a cold that washed through her and a numbness that started in her gut at the realization she’d just killed one of her siblings in heaven, but she was not afforded the time to realize this truth and adjust. She was, in fact, a warrior--she could delay her full reaction until the fight was over.
The next was a sister, one who came at Aniela as her brother fell to the floor, Aniela turning and stepping back in time so the blade only cut her arm. Aniela thrust her blade towards her sister’s gut, her sister knocking her blade aside the same moment Aniela threw a punch, hitting her sister in the jaw and stunning her long enough to disarm her sister of her blade before running her own blade through her chest.
Now armed with two blades, Aniela was able to deflect the attack the third of her siblings threw her way before pulling her blade from her sister’s chest, arching to the side to avoid the thrust of her fourth sibling. She yanked her blade free so her sister could drop to the ground, stepping back and out of the way of any follow up attacks so she could regain her footing and adjust to wielding two blades instead of one.
She was up against two brothers now.
They both came at her at the same time, one aiming high, close to her chest or neck, while the other aimed low, for her gut or thighs. She knocked the blades away with hers, kicking one in the leg and deflecting a second swipe from the other before embedding her angel blade in the side of the brother who had taken another swipe at her. She leaned to avoid a third, weaker attempt on her, shoving her second blade into his chest as she pulled the other out of his side so she wasn’t vulnerable to the brother left standing.
Aniela cried out as she felt the other angel’s blade go through her shoulder before she could turn, releasing hold of the blade that was still in her other brother‘s chest. When the blade was pulled out of her shoulder so her brother could try and impale her again, Aniela rolled to the side onto her back, grabbing the arm of her brother as he went to stab downward into her chest and pulling it to the side and towards the ground to bring him into range of her blade, flipping it around in her hand and shoving it up into his gut. White light streamed out of him as he died, Aniela shoving her brother off of him with a low grunt, reigning in her emotions over what had just happened for just a little longer.
Putting her blade away, Aniela turned to the two Winchesters who were now on their feet and gazing at her with wary distrust.
And yes, there was hatred in those green eyes, as well. It seemed she’d been right in guessing Dean would recognize her as the one who‘d tortured his brother.
All-business was probably the best approach right now.
“Whatever we have to say to each other can wait for another day--once you go back, you won’t remember any of this, anyway,” Aniela told them, walking towards them but stopping when, after she got so close, they backed away. “We only have so long before more come, and you need to return to Earth.”
“I don’t listen to angels who torture my brother,” Dean said coldly, and Aniela flinched inwardly at his tone. “The only reason you’re not dead right now is because you’re standing between me and the blades those dicks dropped.”
Aniela let her gaze soften some, her remorse and sadness flickering in her eyes. “I cannot give you a proper apology or explanation right now, as you will simply forget it, anyway--I can only say my superiors did...something to me, and I was not myself when that happened. Nor was that the first time we’ve met, Dean Winchester.” The room rumbled, causing the two humans to stumble before regaining their balance. Zachariah was coming. Aniela held her hand out to the Winchesters, specifically Dean. “I ask not for your trust or forgiveness, not today. I only ask you let me send you back before Zachariah gets his hands on you again.”
Dean’s green eyes studied her closely, reading every inch of her face for some hint she was playing them. The rumbling continued, more intense this time, telling Aniela they were all but out of time. Dean didn’t take her hand, but he did seem to realize they did not have the luxury of options right now. “If you’re telling the truth, send Sam back first.”
“What, Dean--” Sam started to protest, but Aniela had already stepped towards the younger of the two brothers, splaying her hand on his chest. There was a flash of white light Dean had to shield his eyes from, and Sam was gone, resurrected in the motel room on Earth. Aniela felt the drain on her strength, turning to Dean’s tense figure seconds before another voice entered the room.
“No matter--I can at least deliver Dean to Michael, even if you’ve sent Sam back.“
Aniela only looked at Zachariah long enough to glare at him. She wasn’t going to waste time with words and give Zachariah the chance to stop her.
“Don’t give up,” she told Dean instead as she pressed her hand to Dean’s chest just like she had Sam‘s, sending him back to Earth. Dean had barely disappeared in a flash of white when Aniela was flung back by Zachariah, hitting the wall and crumpling to the floor with a grunt. There was an angry flutter of wings as Zachariah came at her again, but, knowing she was outmatched, Aniela did what she rarely never did.
She fled before Zachariah could stop her, plummeting to Earth so fast and suddenly that she was unconscious before she landed in the middle of nowhere.
They actually did it.
Everyone, everything had said that they wouldn’t, and for a while, that they didn’t.
But they did. These two humans most of the angels in heaven would have considered insignificant other than being designated vessels, and the so called traitorous angel, stopped the apocalypse. It had come at the cost of Sam Winchester...but they still did it.
Of course, losing Michael to the cage along with Lucifer, Sam Winchester, and Adam Milligan had thrown Heaven into chaos due to the power vacuum, but that didn’t make the victory any less of a victory.
For a while, Aniela didn’t know what happened to Dean after the apocalypse. She was actually worried about what had happened to him, considering all he had lost already, and what he had lost to stop the apocalypse. So, even though it was common sense Heaven would be in uproar, Aniela stayed on Earth and looked for Dean Winchester, if only to see that he was alive and okay.
By the time she found Dean, Heaven’s civil war was well underway, Castiel on one side, Raphael on the other. She might have remained on Earth instead of returning, but she wasn’t oblivious to what was happening among the angels. Now, seeing Dean live a normal life in a house with a woman and a child, she was far more comforted.
She wasn’t sure if she was ready to return to heaven though. How could she be sure that whatever was done to her wouldn’t happen again? Raphael was still there, and he was worse than most about rules. She wouldn‘t have had as much of a problem with that if it wasn‘t how he interpreted rules to fit his own needs.
Well...there were other ways to contact Castiel, if she felt that she was ready to leap back into the battle.
The soft flutter of wings told her he’d come.
Aniela sat quietly at the quaint table situated outside the Florence café, rising to her feet when she saw Castiel standing a few paces away, his expression carefully guarded.
“I thought a public place might make you feel more comfortable with meeting with me after the last time we saw each other,“ Aniela said quietly.
Castiel took a few steps closer, but he was still a safe distance away, favoring caution at the moment. “How are you?”
Aniela gave him a bittersweet smile. “I‘m a regular angel that rebelled from heaven...I’m doing as well as can be expected.“ She scrutinized him for a moment, the obvious change in him not escaping her attention. “I see you got an upgrade.”
Castiel reached to smooth down his trench coat, like he thought for a moment she was referring to his vessel, before he realized she was talking about his apparent upgrade to a Seraphim. “Yes, I‘m, ah...still getting used to it. But I was referring to the last time I saw you.”
Aniela inclined her head. She probably should have realized as much. “I don‘t remember what happened after Maine that changed me, but I remember everything else, yes. I’m myself again.“
“Are you sure you don’t remember what happened?“
“After Zadkiel knocked me out, no.”
An awkward silence fell between the two for a few minutes before Castiel spoke again. “Where have you been all this time? You disappeared after what happened with Sam...”
“I took some time to remember, to gather myself again. Then I laid low so I wouldn’t get dragged back to heaven. I didn’t want the same thing to happen again.”
“Yet some of our brothers and sisters tell me that you did go back to heaven briefly. No one knew you were there until Zachariah’s people found Sam and Dean.“
Aniela looked away. “I‘d heard Zachariah wanted to get his hands on them next time they ended up in Heaven. I figured if I was there waiting for them, I could get them out before Zachariah’s people touched them.“
“But they reached the Winchesters first. And you killed four of our brothers and sisters in heaven.“
“The last thing I wanted was to shed blood in heaven,“ Aniela said softly. “But they were not going to have Dean and Sam either.”
“Did you stop to think about it?“
“Of course. Before, during...after. I took no joy in it. What’s happened--happening--with heaven...” Aniela shook her head. “It needs to stop. So many have forgotten our first priority, before anything else, was to watch over and protect humanity. They treat them like uncultured vermin they can barely stand, and some are far too quick to agree to killing some of them. I just wish heaven was the heaven I thought it was.”
“It can be.“
Aniela studied Castiel a little more closely. “Castiel, are you about to try to recruit me?“
Castiel placed his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I‘m asking for your help. You’re one of the few of our brothers and sisters who still remembers humanity was supposed to be our first mission, like you said. You’re one of the few who sees a lot of things the same as me. You’re one of the few people I trust...and I know the Winchesters have become a priority of yours, like they became for me. You’ve known of them longer, actually. And if I worry about something going on with them, you’re not going to question whether my priorities are straight or not.”
Aniela thought she might know where he was going with this, but she wanted to hear him say it before she got ahead of herself. “Castiel, if you’re here to give me a leadership position, I don’t want to go back to heaven until I know whoever...changed me, isn’t there anymore.”
“I want you to lead my on-earth operations. You won’t have to come to heaven unless you want to, you can stay on earth, but there are important parts of this fight being waged down here.”
Aniela raised a pointed brow. “And?”
Castiel sighed. “And...I would like someone to keep watch on the Winchesters when possible. You I know would do that anyway. With me leading one side of this rebellion, I’m too busy to keep an eye on them as much as I would like.”
“Castiel...I’ve seen Dean, he’s left the hunting life, but something could still happen, I understand that. But Sam’s in the cage with Lucifer and Michael. So why do you say watch them?”
Castiel leaned back in his seat. “Sam Winchester isn’t in the cage anymore. He’s been back for quite some time now. I don’t know what brought him back, and I’ve found no answers...but he is back.”
That got Aniela’s attention. Though considering the level of devotion she’d observed in the two brothers, and the fact that Dean seemed still rather...distraught, she had to ask. “Does Dean know Sam’s back?”
“No, that much I do know. Sam’s decided not to tell Dean.”
“Have you talked to either of them?”
“Not since Lucifer and Michael fell into the cage, no.”
“And if I do agree to be your agent on earth...I won’t have to see Sam or Dean in person? They only know me from what I did when I wasn’t myself. I doubt they’d take kindly to seeing me again.”
“Ideally, no. Unless it was important.”
Aniela leaned back in her seat as well, considering Castiel’s offer. It would mean she’d have her connection to heaven back, so she wouldn’t have to worry about losing her powers or becoming mortal some day. She wouldn’t be so alone, she could have a purpose again. Maybe one day, with Castiel leading the charge, God’s Chosen as some was calling him since God brought him back as a Seraphim, heaven would be back in a state Aniela would feel comfortable returning to. Plus, she could continue to keep an eye on Dean--it would be her job to keep an eye on the Winchesters. That would be a perk. She could continue to walk among the humans, observe them up close, learn more about them.
“I’ll do it,” she eventually said, looking up to hold Castiel’s gaze. Castiel smiled at her as they both rose to their feet, pulling her in for a hug.
“It’s good to have you back, sister.”
Aniela followed the orders Castiel gave her, from running small errands to checking in on the Winchesters when Castiel couldn’t to searching for stray weapons of heaven. She had a small task force to help her complete her tasks, angels that reported directly to her, and not once did she have to go back to heaven.
When she wasn’t on any kind of mission, she liked to spend her time watching out for Dean. Of course always from a distance, and she never once revealed herself to him.
Of course, Sam had finally revealed himself to Dean, and that had lead to Dean getting pulled right back into hunting, trying to balance it and a normal life. Which also made keeping an eye on him harder.
Though Castiel would nudge her in the right direction when she didn’t know where they were, since he’d made himself known to them again recently when the two had stumbled across one of heaven’s stray weapons.
But that was all past, and not at all what Aniela was focused on right now.
Raphael was determined to take down the competition as soon as possible so he could move on with trying to reboot the apocalypse, which meant that part of Aniela’s job was to track down would be assassins who were after Castiel’s life on Raphael’s orders. She’d been tracking some of those assassins down for longer than she cared to admit, and she was growing worried that they had been given long enough to figure out a solid plan that would put Castiel at risk--more-so than he already was.
The assassins would meet on Earth, but she could never quite find them before they were gone again. She was always one step behind them, and because she’d had so much trouble catching them, she made sure Castiel knew there were a few assassins managing to elude her, that way he was aware.
She thought she might have a lead on them. Castiel was currently on earth, seeing Dean and Sam for something, so he was at risk, but she had a lead that the assassins were going to meet again at a warehouse in Chicago, Illinois. So that’s where she went, in the hopes to finally stop this recent assassination attempt before the chase went on any longer.
But there was no one there. Not one angel.
She’d been confident in the lead she’d been given, and yet there was no proof any angel had ever been in the vicinity.
Then why...
Her instincts gave her the answer before she finished the thought.
Because it was a diversion.
Castiel.
Dean.
Thank all of creation she made it part of her job to know where Castiel was whenever he was on Earth.
Her wings were already unfurling of their own accord, lifting her up into the air so she could fly with angel’s speed to where Castiel should currently be with the Winchesters.
She arrived in the shoddy motel room the same time the assassins busted in the door. For a few seconds, it was confusion--everyone reacted with battle instincts, Castiel, Dean, and Sam all startled by Aniela’s appearance and the angels busting down the door. Aniela didn’t have time to see how the Winchesters reacted to her appearance--she didn’t worry about how they would react at the moment since they were probably normally armed with nothing that would kill her, and Castiel knew she was on their side, so she focused on doing her job.
Stopping an assassination attempt.
One of the angels had thrown their blade at Castiel, a blade she reached out and caught before it could reach him, lunging forward to meet the would-be assassins halfway, punching one in the face before thrusting the blade she’d caught towards their chest. It was blocked--she didn’t expect this fight to be as easy as the one with Zachariah’s men had been--but by then Castiel had reached them, and she wasn’t fighting alone.
Aniela felt the sting of a blade graze her side, but she ignored it, bracing herself for the coming impact as one of the assassins got ahold of her and slammed her to the ground closer to where the Winchesters were trying to stay out of the way. Before the momentum could be lost, Aniela got her feet between herself and the assassin, kicking him up and over her head. Her own blade dropped from her sleeve as she reached back in one hard stab, the usual blinding white light telling her that she’d found her target before she rolled back to her feet, reassessing the room so she could jump back into the fight.
Castiel had his hands full with two, so Aniela ran up to the three and shoved one of his attackers off of him, allowing Castiel to focus on the one. The angel instinctively slashed at Aniela with her blade as he was shoved away, and actually managed to get her across the stomach in a wound deep enough it flashed a blinding blue, and Aniela stumbled from the intensity of the pain from her wound.
She put a hand on Castiel’s back briefly to steady herself, her brother instinctively lending the support she briefly needed despite his own fight.
She didn’t lean on him too long, not wanting to hamper him in his fight, so she threw herself back at the angel who’d slashed her, blade gripped tight in her hand. Sliver clashed against silver with rapidity, her opponent landing a few more cuts on her, but nothing as deep as the one on her gut.
She’d taken to thinking of angels on Raphael’s side as opponents instead of brothers and sisters to make it easier to fight them. It was far better than letting guilt swallow her in the middle of a fight every time she killed another angel.
There was a shout of pain--Castiel’s--and a flash of angelic light, and for a split second, Aniela thought he’d been killed. That split second was enough of a distraction for her opponent to thrust his blade into her stomach, a simple movement away from killing her.
Before he could, another blade found it’s way through the angel’s neck, angelic light filling the room before the grip on the blade in her gut slackened and she stumbled back.
Castiel caught her before she could hit the ground, hooking his arms under hers, one of his hands finding it’s way to her damaged gut, pulling the blade out and letting it clatter to the floor.
“Aniela!”
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