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djarinsidebitch · 4 years ago

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Mandalorian & Flyboy

A/N: yes I know that other Mandalorians can take their helmet off but lets just say that reader cannot Word count: 3.4k

As the war against the first order dragged on rumors about where the information gained on the first order started to pop up. When communication officers let it loose that there hasn't been any major intelligence missions in over 6 months. Rumors of a spy in such deep cover that the resistance cant even know, others of the information being bought from outside sources, Poe himself is caught listening into the base gossip. When he asks Leia she just shrugs it off going back to the task at hand. If he didnt know how good of a lier the General is he would have just let is slide, he kinda did shaking off anyone who asked the elite Commander what he thought just continuing with missions ‘The information isn't putting us in danger so why think about it’ he remembers remarking to a group of newer pilots when they again were asking about the rumors.

The idea almost completely left his mind when he caught a glimpse of Painted Beskar retreating into the forest from a back entrance of the hangar where he was working on small repairs to his x wing, it took a few seconds for him to process what he saw, or thought he saw; A Mandalorian some of the best warriors in the galaxy but very few are left they have become more of myth some believing that they are all gone. A possible mandalorian sneaking out of the base… the General. “Fuck!” he exclaims shooting up running to the general’s quarters expecting to see the worst he burst in only to see the General looking over a data pad “poe is there a reason you are bursting into my quarters at this hour?” she asks he sputters “I-I there was someone who left your quarters that i had never seen before” he breathes out putting his hands on his waist “I wanted to make sure you were ok” he nods now feeling slightly embarrassed “Poe no one was in here, get some sleep you have been working to hard” leia says calmly shooting poe from her quarters.

Poe left to his own quarters even more confused he could have sworn that he saw someone, something, leave from the base but tried to put it to the back of his brain ‘I am just tired’ he repeats in his mind going through the motions to go to sleep; which is just pulling off his clothes throwing them over on a chair in his room then flopping onto his bed. He fell asleep but it was almost like his head just hit the pillow when the morning call came out over the loudspeaker waking him up. He goes through the motions of getting up and ready BB-8 rolling around waiting for Poe, as a commander he was ordered to a mission briefing it was based on new information on trade routes used by the first order. Hearing this poem\ is thinking again about what he saw last night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Poe decided that he wanted to get to the end of this person that has been in his mind, once a week he watched from behind his X-wing when a Mandalorian snuck into base went to where the general’s quarters where for about an hour then would sneak back out. Then the next day he would have a meeting about new information on a different topic. He finally had enough after a month and a half of watching the Mandalorian in there painted and dirty beskar mysteriously come and go in the base he went to the leia to get answers without starting even more rumors not everyone like mandalorians seeing them as brutish or savage like bounty hunters who care on of credits.

After a mission brief he stayed behind as everyone except Leia left “General” he asked, gaining her attention from the holotable “Yes Poe is there something you need?” “Well yes, who is the Mandalorian I keep seeing leave the base” he cringed at himself at being so brash. Leia let out a sigh shaking her head slightly “it seems you met my new opritave” “He is resistance?” “SHE is a bounty hunter and informative as to what is going on in the underworld” leia explains briefly not giving up to much information “Why work with bounty Hunters how do we know she isn't just selling our information to the first order” he responds confused “the first order along with the empire killed off most of the mandalorians and mandalore, those who survived mostly don't want to work for the first order unless they really need the credits. And i know her she may be in a dark line of work but her heart is true” leia turns off the holotable going to leave the conference room also leaving poe with new questions ‘why are you helping the resistance; how much are you getting paid’ the resistance already has low funding so how are you getting paid at all ‘have you done anything else than just gain information for the resistance' poe could feel himself get frustrated with this and mentaly decides that he is going to talk to the Mandalorian and get some answers.

When it came time for your weekly meeting with Leia you transferred the information into her data terminal while chatting with the general, more like she talked and you listened, nodded or gave small replies. As you leave the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, someone is near, your strides pick up slightly leaving the base of your ship. Taking the long way to your ship you catch a glance of someone following you so hiding behind a tree waiting for the assailant to walk past you, just like baiting a trap he walks past you and in and instant you grab him putting the man into a choke hold while holding your trusted baster to the side of his head.

“Why are you following me” The distorted voice grunts through her helmet, poe puts his hands up in surrender “I just want to talk i've been watching you come and go and i just want to know who you were” he chokes out looking in his peripheral vision and is met with an emotionless visor staring back. You losen the grip on his neck dropping your arm but only to search his body for a blaster “i didnt come armed im not stupid your a madalorian” a dejected sigh is herd through the helmet as you go to sit om a fallen tree and motions with your blaster towards a stump near her. Poe gets the message and sits there is a silence when she finally takes a deep breath “i you are just going to stare i have better things to do” “Wait not, shit ok, i'll just be straight forward, Why are you helping us, the resistance; bounty hunter normally don't care about any of this just about what keeps their pockets filled” You are visibly irritated by the off hand comment about bounty hunters “I am not most Bounty hunters, but it seems you are like most flyboys nothing more than moof milkers who think just because they can fly a star fighter they are important” The mandalorian stands holstering her blaster “be glad i didn't put a hole in you fly boy” You growl out stomping away to your ship.

Poe sat there cursing himself he just insulted a mandalorian, not just any a really hot, resistance fighting Mandalorian “leia is going to kill me”

Poe thought it was safest to stop watching you when you came to the base not wanting to anger you more. Until he was asked to meet with Leia on the day you make your drops. He knew it wouldn't be good so when he walked in to see the general and you sitting there you more just leaning against the wall your visor felt like it was staring into his soul “Poe i thought you should properly meet our friend after your stint in the woods” she says almost standing between the two of them “how?” “I told her moof milker” You snear “(Y/n)” Leia scolds the mandalorian. “If you are going to be so interested in my dealings enough to follow her to her ship you might as well know who she is to the resistance” she continues “(Y/N) here is a bounty hunter and spy for the resistance her father helped with taking out groups of imperial loyalist shortly after the fall of the empire.” as she started talking about her past briefly he looked over her leaning form her armor had blue grey paint over parts of her helmet, her shoulder pauldron had a mud horn on it, the rest of her armor was silver beskar that was slightly worn from years of use and he can see the top of a pack that matched the silver beskar partially covered but and small cape. “She is here to help us gain information on the first order without having to put our numbers at more risk, she can get more done than a full squad of fighters can and we don't have the numbers anymore.” “I can also get places you can’t” you grunt out and stands walking over to stand in front of poe looking him up and down behind your helmet and thinking ‘he isn't to bad looking’ “(Y/N) Djarin” you sat curtly “since you are so interested in my work why don't you join the general in my drops” poe can hear the smirk that is placed on your face before you walk out of the room surprisingly quiet for how much armor you are wearing he stared as you left amazing by your voice and thinking over your name in his head “Close your mouth dameron before you catch flies; you are dismissed” she calls out to the dazed pilot shaking her head. Poe just nodded taking a deep breath walking to his quarters BB-8 was waiting outside of the door waiting for his master “Hey buddy” he starts to talk about you to his little buddy “an her name- buddy her name is so pretty” he says dreamyly

Over the next few week he started going to meet the general and (Y/N) he even started to talk to her outside of the meetings walking back to her ship and a few transmissions here and there at first it was just him rambling and you putting your input in here and there but as you got closer you started opening up your family growing up losing your mother at a young age and traveling with your older yet younger brother and father then when he settled down and took off the helmet for good and you put it on changing some things slightly. Talking about visits to your dad and brother between work was the thing that got you really talking, only stopping when you realized you had reached your shipe 5 minutes ago. Poe found out that for a scary bounty hunter you are a dork and he loves it when you realize you have no idea how to truly socialize with anyone that isn't your family or poe. He prides himself on the small chuckles and breathy laughs he can get out of you. If he didn't know better he would think that this flyboy had a shot with this badass woman he has fallen for following her around like a lost dog whenever he could.

You had started to come to base more than just once a week for Poe so when you and him out in the forest surrounding the base and you both hear explosions and the tell tale signs of Tie’s you both jump up running towards the base. It is the First Order they found the base and was able to surprise attack the base X-wings were already scrambling to get in the air. Poe calls for BB-8 while running to his X-wing jumping in getting into the air.

Stormtrooper transport land and whole battalions of troopers unload the battle is in the air and on land You use your two blasters and jet pack to take out hoards of troopers. Once landing you hold out your arm activating your vambrace flamethrower keeping the troopers away from you one shoots you the blaster deflecting off of your shoulder pauldron then you deliver a front kick to another while almost nonchalantly shooting two more troopers. Over the speakers a coded message rings out that was the message to retreat most officers fall back to get onto transports and get hasmany supplies and important information as possible. You try to give as much time as possible to the resistance to get to safety you picks up a larger blaster that one of the dead troopers had and used to to hit more enemies as possible you watch out of the corner of your eye three tie fighters chasing a familiar Black and orange X-wing before the Ties shot it down and it goes down into the forest “No!” you yell, shooting the last troopers she can and take off running towards the towers of smoke rising in the trees.

You run as fast as possible to the crash site hoping Poe is ok. When you get there it is not a pretty sight flames almost cover the entire ship you pull open the cockpit and your eyes widen poe is limp in his seat you pull out your vibro blade form your boot using it to cut him out of his harness pulling him out of the wreckage and presses the button to release his droid pulling him as far from the wreckage right before the ship blows and you cover his body with yours grimacing as shrapnel imbeds itself into the spaces between the plates of armor. Once the explosion stops and it's safe you look down at poe blood blossoming on his abdomen and body “poe” you call out trying to shake him awake; he just shakes limply under your hands you reach to feel a pulse but you can't sense anything “No Poe wake up” you call out tears welling in your eyes blurring your vision “It's not funny poe come on wake up” your voice breaks and you try to do chest compressions anything but nothing changes. BB-8 watches as you try to recestate Poe and responds with sad beeps missing his master. You ripp of the helmet and you feel like it's suffocating you as tears stream down your face mixing with the dirt and sweat on your face. You have felt pain but nothing like this sobs rake your body shaking with pain gripping onto poe “You- You can't do this to be dameron, you can't leave me now” you are blubbering now not caring if any one sees you it feels like a part of you had died.

“You- Fuck- Your so beautiful even- e-even with tears” Poe rasps out barley awake staring at your face contort to confustion then passing back out.

Hearing him makes you jump up grabbing your helmet, slipping it on and then picking up poe running calling out to BB-8 “Come on we gotta get back to my ship!” You jump over logs, adrenaline coursing through your veins pushing your body to its limits, not caring how much you are gonna hurt in a few hours, just focused on saving power. You see your ship and slow reaching to press the button on your brace to open the cargo door and run up the ramp placing him on the floor knowing it's not the most comfortable but not caring, pulling your helmet back off you rush to grab the box filled with medical supplies and pulling out bacta patches, stim shots, and the emergency cauterizer.

You pull off his tsttered clothes striping him down to just boxers and looks for the worst wounds on his abdomen and thigh injecting a stim shot then going in with the cauterizer working on shutting the wounds glad that he wasn't awake for this part the smell of blood and burning skin isn't new to you but knowing it's him makes you sick but once you sealed all the major wounds you placed bacta patches on them then using bacta spray on everyone else. You sit there for a second looking over your work then staring at his face it looks calm but it doesn't have the wrinkles from his smiles or the look in his eyes what she watches from behind her visor so seeing it without it is something else. Her com link in her brace goes off and she scrambles to grabs her helmet then connecting, a relieved sigh leaves her mouth it was leia “I'm glad you made it” leia says with somber undertones “(Y/N) i'm sorry to say but we haven't been able to contact dameron he was the only pilot we can't account for he might not have made it” she says sadly he was like another song to her leia was keeping it together for the sake of the resistance “i know he got shot down by three tie i was able to get him and BB-8 out before his ship exploded “ she explained and watched as a new hope filled the general’s eyes “that is amazing how is he’ you sigh looking down at poe now noticing the slight rise and fall of his chest “ he is knocked out now but once he wakes up i will know more” she explains “How did they find you” You ask now no emotion present in your voice back to being a mandalorian “i don't know we are trying to figure that out but for now get off world and lay low until we can find a new base” Leia says with a sigh “take care of him ok” you nod “always” you sign off and go back to poe looking over him before getting into the cockpit of your own ship and old imperial command ship you had found for cheap and fixed up yourself. Once in hyperspace you come back out to see poe stirring, you quickly kneel down next to him as he opens his eyes “where am i” he looks around frantically until he sees you “(Y/N) he says softly reaching for you “what happened” he asks “you where shot down; i got there just in time before your ship exploded” you explain watching as he grabs onto the bottom of your helmet “i- i saw your face” he says almost unsure “i thought i lost you; you weren't breathing you were gone” your vision went blurry whether that was from tears or the blood loss of your untreated wounds you didn't care and neither did poe as he lifts up your helmet slowly almost waiting for you to stop him… you don't he drops it with a clang and sits up you are quick to help him. He takes your face in his hands staring at you with so much love and emotion in his eyes that he starts crying also “you are so beautiful” he whispers leaning in to kiss you; you meet half way and the kiss is explosive full of passion and sorrow for what could have been lost he moves his hands down the side of your neck to the back pulling you in closer your hands hold onto his cheeksIt is not a pretty kiss it is dirty and sweaty your tears mixing on your cheeks at they are pressed together, the only reason you separate is to breath and even then your foreheads are touching “you are the first person other than my family that has seen my face since i was 11” you whisper out looking deep into his eyes. He smiles rubbing soft circles into the sides of your face “I'm glad you are just so beautiful. I love you so much, i have fora while you are so complex in all the best ways you are anamazing warrior badass in every way but so soft spoken adn dorky i would die a thousand times if it means i can see your face” he confesses tears start filling your eyes again and his voice breaks with emotion “I love you too, your snarky hummor and being dumb enough to follow a mandalorian in the woods; i knew you were the one and as long as i am arround you are not dying” she responds softly leaning in again to kiss him. Maybe it wasn't horrible that one person saw her face.

#poe dameron #Poe dameron x reader #Poe Dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #mandalorian #Mandalorian reader #Star Wars fan fiction #Star Wars x reader #din djarin x reader #Mandalorian x reader

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years ago

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A will they, won’t they relationship with Seth Brundle would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous/Hope this is what you wanted!)

(I chose to do this outside of the plot but I wouldn’t be opposed to doing something similar during the plot <3)

- Seth was never an incredibly social person but seemingly out of nowhere, it became abundantly clear that he needed somebody in his life. An assistant; he’d reasoned with himself, somebody who could help him with his work while also ensuring he didn’t go insane staying cooped up inside his house all day. That was where you came into the picture.

- You’d been working as an engineer/machinist when you first met him. Over the years, it became a habit of his to go to one specific company for his very important machinery and odd parts. You were a new hire of theirs, one he became anonymously and particularly fond of after seeing the level of care you put into your work.

- It was during one of his routine pick ups that the two of you finally met face to face. It didn’t take him long to decide that you were the perfect person to employ; young, intelligent, precise, …pretty. After learning that you had a background in biology, he considered it a match made in heaven.

- He asked if you’d like to see what he’d been building, planning to propose a partnership once he’d successfully amazed you with his invention. Since your shift was almost finished; and you were a tad bit curious, you took the bait and agreed to go with him. The rest is history.

- Seths never really had anyone to talk to about his work so it’s really a breath of fresh air when you come into his life. He can finally have a conversation with someone who’s on the same level as him and understands what he’s saying.

- The two of you can have deep, hour(s) long conversations with each other and not even realize it. Sometimes you’ll figure that you’ve only been talking for maybe an hour tops, then check the clock and find out you’ve actually been talking for three hours. Guess time ...flies when you’re having fun.

- Touching and staying close to each other’s sides any chance you get. You normally have to work in pretty close proximity so it isn’t all that hard to find an excuse.

- The two of you get to know each other very well, I mean, that’ll happen when you spend nearly all day and night with a person for days on end. But regardless, he can recite all your favorite things and uses it to his advantage.

- Sometimes, he’ll just surprise you with a treat or gift, usually something like buying you your favorite hot drink or dessert. He likes being able to make you smile and absolutely adores when you return the favor.

- Late night take out dinners after a long day of hard work. Some of your best memories have taken place on the floor of his apartment, cheap food container in hand and a smile on your face.

- Crashing at his place when you wind up working late into the night. Waking up and seeing you asleep on his couch/bed never fails to make his heart flutter and bring a smile to his face.

- Teasing and treating each other like you’re an old married couple. Every now and again you’ll bicker with each other and he swears you both sound just like his grandparents.

- The two of you have definitely been mistaken for a couple more than a few times. It never fails to make his heart race whenever someone says you look good together or calls you his girlfriend. He always tries to subtly look over at you to see your reaction, hoping that you don’t look bothered by the idea.

- He started calling you darling and honey jokingly; both because of your tendency to get mistaken for a couple and just to be a smartass, but then he just never stopped. It’s become a habit of his and one that he isn’t going to be able to break anytime soon, no matter how hard he tries.

- The amount of times he’s made you flustered with his compliments/praise; specifically after you spark an idea in him or make him realize something, is embarrasing. Oftentimes, he’ll kiss your cheek/forehead, laughing like he’s just gotten an adrenaline rush and calling you a genius.

- He’s definitely exclaimed that he loves you in these moments but you just think it’s strictly platonic, like how someone will say “god, I could just kiss you” when they’re overjoyed. If only you knew the truth.

- Whenever he gets something right/finally figures out what’s happening, he turns into an adorable fool. He giddily takes you by the arms and demands that the two of you celebrate, already moving towards the liquor cabinet as you try to calm your beating heart.

- Everytime you tell him that you believe in him or think he’s a good scientist, he has to stop himself from smashing his lips to yours.

- Theres a few times where he almost kisses you for real and you’re nearly sure he will. Once when you were both huddled around his computer, your faces inches apart (a fact you realize when you finally look at each other for the first time). He glances down at your lips and begins to lean in but stops himself, apologizing and stepping back with a shy smile.

- The second time is when you fix a major bug in his system, making everything work just the way it should. He’s grinning ear to ear as he calls you brilliant and a million other names, all but running over to where you stand. He hesitates for a moment; contemplating just doing what he’s dreamed of doing for so long, before he finally just pulls you into a tight hug. You never thought a hug would make you so dissapointed.

- Then there’s the times where he’s almost told you how he felt. There was definitely a few but one stands out to you even to this day. The two of you had been working together for a few months and he’d finally decided that he could completely trust you. He brought up the idea of adding your voice to his machine and couldn’t help but smile at how excited you got.

- You spent the next hour or so programming your voice into the system and once you were finished he very nearly told you that he loved you. Right at the last minute, he decided that he just couldn’t do it and instead told you that he was glad that the two of you met.

- He’s finally forced to confess his feelings to you about a year or so after you become partners. While you can’t deny that you love him, you also can’t wait around for forever so you agreed to go out on a date with an acquaintance of yours.

- When you tell Seth, he seems bothered by the idea but he plays it off like he just wanted your help in the lab. He very nearly says accepts when you offer to reschedule your date but ultimately decides that it’s not fair and tells you to have fun, giving you a forced smile as you promise to stop by afterwards in case he needs any help.

- When you return to his house later in the night, he asks you how it went, taking the time to tell you how nice you look all dressed up. You shyly admit that you weren’t really planning on seeing the man again which makes him visibly happier. It’s then that he finally tells you what you’ve been waiting to hear for so long.

“Y/n,” he starts abruptedly, turning around to face you “Theres something I’ve been meaning to tell you, something that I can’t hold back any longer. Y/n ... I am completely in love with you and have been since the moment I saw you.”

“Now if you dont like me back thats fine but I couldnt live with myself if I didnt at least try to tell you how I felt. It finally hit me that I could lose my chance forever if I don’t say anything and thats not a risk I’m willing to take. I never want to feel how I felt tonight ever again in my entire life. So ...what do you say?” He asked, his voice slowing to a nervous stop.

- It felt like a dream when you returned his affections. He’s so excited to be in a relationship, especially with you of all people. He’s surprised that you want to be with him but god is he glad.

- The two of you share your first kiss right then and there, slowly moving toward each other until you’re nearly chest to chest. You’re still gazing into each other’s eyes as his arms encircle your waist. You only close them once his lips press against yours, stealing your breath away.

- It’s safe to say that you spend all night wrapped up in each other’s arms, making up for lost time.

#80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon #the fly imagine #the fly headcanons #the fly headcanon #Seth Brundle imagine #Seth Brundle headcanons #Seth Brundle headcanon

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huntsman-ash · 4 years ago

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RWBY V8E4 LiveThoughts

And were back at it again, this week with turkey and Italian preserved sausage as a snack! Lets see what RT has for us this week.

Oh, 20 minutes. Are they normally this long?

Oh, wait, the openings almost 2 minutes long. Thats more like it.

And now to Robyn and Qrow. Seems Robyns actually liking Qrow a little bit now.

Guess the cells aren’t secured if a fly got into Schnee’s. This a “Fly on Mike Pence’s face” reference?

Qrow sounds more growly again. Did he get smacked back two seasons by Clover dying?

If by “darkness” you mean “Tyrian” then, yes. Also dude, its Clover. He was shit anyway. All the Aces are shit. Dont feel too bad about him.

And he’s got a point too. If Clover had thought with his head instead of his dick (yes, Im sure they were gonna fuck, Fair Games totally a thing), he probably wouldnt be dead now, and Tyrian would be the one with the sword through his chest.

But of course this is RWBY and V7/8 so things cant go their ways.

Ouch. Deep thoughts of Qrow. And some interesting stuff from Robyn too. I still think I’d prefer hopeandharmonizing’s Briar, though.

Marrows glare gives me life. Hare’s just a moron right now though, but thats no real surprise. She’s immature emotionally. Honestly, shes...kind of like a less bad version of our current President. Always has to be the best at everything, fastest, leader, whatever.

Thats probably why this is grating on her so much. Even though shes TECHNICALLY the Ace’s leader now (I think? Seemed like she was Clovers lieutenant, so by rate of succession she’s in command now)

A glance at the little floating control pad... “Clerance access only”. Okay, that...seems weird. Shouldnt it say something like authorized personell only? Maybe it means access by clerance only or something.

Then Robyn’s name, and then process ID 4591-27. No idea what thats useful for but its there.

Also Marrow seems to be the only competent member of the Aces rn.

Ah now we get to see some of the hills around Atlas. For those of you who have seen my headcanons on the Hunter-Killers and their base of operations, Fortress Academy, its out in these hills somewhere.

The music sounds like a boss fight.

The screen on Ren’s hoverbike reads “HVB Rhino” and “HD5800″ I can only assume HVB stands for “hoverbike” and Rhino must be its name, like how the dropships are Mantas. No clue what the number is.

Also apparently the cold in Solitas is so bad it corrupts machinery?

Ahh, good, some action. Lets see what we get now. Ohh, teamwork. And again, signs that aura allows you to move faster and farther than a normal human

Heh, it really is like a boss fight, like the chase scene at the end of the first Viking level in For Honor.

Oh, and it can call for reenforcements literally out of nowhere? Or is the whole tundra of Solitas just CRAWLING with Grimm?

Yes, yes it did just call for backup, Yang. Maybe these are all forward scouts and ambush units from the Grimmstorm. They did say its the biggest...

Another banger from Casey Lee Williams...

What the hell happened in Solitas to cause this geography? Seriously, its a line of bridges over a gap in two cliffs...that cant be natrual, not that equal in distance.

Man, those bikes didnt even last half an episode...I guess thats fair, they are facing obsurd odds. Or maybe they just want Yang to be the only one with a bike.

And there goes the dropwall. Woops.

Also you can just kinda see it but they bounce off the rock and thats why they slow down. Useful.

Also this part with them falling off the edge reminds me of the ending cutscene of Halo 4s Forerunner level, where Chief flies out of a portal and almost goes sailing off a cliff in a Ghost. Except here, the bike stays on the land and THEY go off the cliff.

I paused at just the right time cause YANGS FACE XD

Holy shit what are Ren’s weapons cables MADE OF? The one atop him is holding him AND the weight of his two teammates. And the one below has both Jaune and Yang. No sign of slippage or breackage at all.

Ahhh there’s the whaleship (Monstra? Fuck it Im gonna keep calling it the whaleship). So yeah my headcanon now is the mountain its right next too is Menachite, where Fortress is.

Oh hey back to the Schnee manor of all things! Does...this mean military invasion of the Schnee grounds. Hey Whitley. Lesbians are here.

Someone make a video cut of Weiss banging on the door to the “Knock knock open up the door its real!” part of that one song.

Hehehehhe. Nice Weiss.

Also convenient about the house staff. Good thing RT doesnt need to animate them or Willow now...

I hope the staff took some of the silverware and some paintings on the way out.

Why is MAY the one carrying Nora.

Ah so now they’re stuck out there with no cell service. Hehe.

Ah okay so the cold in Solitas DOES eat aura. Good, my headcanon still kind of stands.

I wonder, does wearing proper cold weather clothing (like bundled up stuff) help? Or does it cut right through...

Why is JAUNE the one hauling the bike? Isnt Yang the strongest? Or maybe they take turns.

Ahhh inter-team talking. Also, outpost. Hmm. Atlas one? Overrun if I had to guess. Unless he saw Fortress. Which I doubt.

I do love the circling shot here, with the light on Yang’s hair and the shadows on Ren. Its...really artistic and emotional. GREAT WORK RT.

Rens got points. And hes saying stuff I myself have been saying for ages, which is good. I wonder why this is how Ren is now...working with the Ace Ops? Being afraid of loosing Nora? No one tell him what happened last episode.

Also, Jaune’s hair seems to have gotten less crazy in recent episodes. It looks less like a banana and more like a close tactical cut.

Yangs got a point.

Ahhh and now we get to see the inside of the whale.

SALEM FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP SHOWING THE FUCK OFF. SERIOUSLY. WE GET IT.

...this is gonna be a really criingy torture section, isnt it.

Someones gonna take that “hound didnt break you” line in the WRONG direction

It is amusing the only thing holding Oscar down is the Hound actually.

Ah so they’re still searching the remains of Beacon.

Also I like how Salem calls them “her forces” as if its anything but a random bunch of expendable monsters. Like, bruh, you cant search anything with THAT.

Ignoring the boring chat between these two, notice how the Hound’s shoulder literally flexes and shifts when Salem touched it. I dont think this thing is solid at all aside from the head and the bone claws...the whole thing is just amorphous Grimm material that can adapt to whatever situation it requires. A specialist unit. A...Hunter hunter.

Yo what the fuck was that. Magic? Huh. Did we actually SEE magic for once in the show? Only took us 8 FUCKING SEASONS...

Doesnt seem to be anything but an energy blast/pain never firing though. I assume his auras still gone, cause its completely singed his shirt, but it didnt do much else.

...Im not impressed.

She really needs to stop touching his face, its creeping me out.

HAHA SHE CANT DO IT HERSELF SHE HAS TO RELY ON HAZEL BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF HIM. I think we know where she stands now, doesnt she...say what you will about her letting Hazel have his vengeance (which is very valid, even he admits hit), but me? I think she A) cant actually beat up on Ozma herself because she still cares and B) shes almost out of magic too. Its weakened as the Gods have been gone and shes been forced to rely on the Grimm and on pawns. Basically, once she and Oz are both gone? That’s it for magic. Remnant will belong to the Grimm...and to technology.

At which point without Oz around to hold them back Atlas is going to go fucking BONKERS and basically ensure the Grimm get pushed back into a corner and then finally permenantly STAMPED OUT.

More Whale insides. Seems like most of its empty grandious spaces. Or possibly muscle? Hard to tell. Either way theres a lot of open air in there...with tight corridors. If you fired a thermobaric warehead into one of the chambers the resulting blastc could possibly blow the doors off and send a raging fireball through the entire thing...Hmm. Filing that away for later.

NEO IS SO SHORT ITS FUNNY TO ME. I know its just positioning BUT SHE LOOKS EVEN SHORTER IN THIS SHOT THAN USUAL.

More note on the Hound; the “flesh” around its right shoulder spike actually sinks down when it stops moving. Its neck shifts and moves too, like the material isnt solid, but recirculating.

I also dont see any eyes. And it looks like it has some kind of...forehead mouth? Def looks like teeth down the ridge of its spine.

Oh boy yeah that...whole thing is basically melting in on itself.

I wont lie; hearing Cinder get berated by CORTANA (and yes, I still hear Cortana in Salem, espeically now that the two characters are kind of one and the same, both megalomaniacal leaders of giant armies, bar the fact that one of them is about a TRILLION times more dangerous than the other because one of them has access to Guardian Custodies and the other one is...well kind of lame and has to have beefy dudes beat up on small children etc) is pleasing to me.

Get fucked, Cinder.

And THERE is Cortana again too.

Neo Marry Popins’s Ya’lling is fucking CUTE. And I love her little smirk.

Wait the whale’s that close?

..oh my...hold on.

...thats it. THATS ATLAS’S AIR FLEET!?!

12 AIRSHIPS? 12? EXCUSE ME!?

ARE YOU LEGITAMETLY TELLING ME THE BIGGEST MILITARY ON REMNANT HAS FEWER AIRSHIPS THAN THE SMALLEST NAVY ON EARTH HAS FRIGATES? YOUR FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT? THERE HAS TO BE MORE SOMEWHERE. THIS IS A JOKE, A STRAIGHT UP FUCKING JOKE.

...

No, thats...thats it. Thats Atlas’s airfleet. 12 tiny vessels. I swear it was bigger last season...

...HA! HAHA! HA! Oh, Ironwood, and Atlas as a whole...you deserve everything your about to get. I hope you die SCREAMING, and that when your bodies fall bleeding and shattered to Mantle, the people down there will realize that, no. You cant just assume Hunters will do all the work for you

THIS IS REMNANT. ITS KILL OR BE KILLED. YOU EITHER MAKE A FORCE POWERFUL ENOUGH THAT THE GRIMM RUN FROM YOU OR YOU DIE INSTEAD. ATLAS FAILED. NOW THEY SUFFER.

Emerald stop simpin.

Also that is...the SHITTEST outpost...I have ever seen in my life. My overall thought process of Atlas is...sinking even LOWER than before.

Though it seems more like a waystation. Bed, Dust, some dudes coat on it. Dead heater. Its probably a rest spot for Specialists out in the tundra.

Ren does the emo sit. Lol. Yang even says it. Brood himself to death.

Alright whats this now...something forcing itself out of the tundra?

And thats it for today! Cool ass concept art at the end there too.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #spoilers #rwby v8

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themeed · 4 years ago

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damn allowed myself to want things for a day and all i want is a van to live in, knowledge, freedom, weight loss, and a bass guitar.

im. happy with that i think. im proud of me, no jokes. im proud of being able to want things and care about them and vibrate towards them with longing. im... pleased with that. its fulfilling in a way Not Wanting For Anything isnt, because thats... kinda hollow. empty. in a vacant, lonely, yearning and grieving and SAD way. maybe because i Couldnt Want then. i Couldnt Desire or it would be used against me or taken away. that sucks. that sucked.

and now. im free to want again. and comparatively???? i think im very much never going to aim for buddhism or that weird Not Desiring Not Attached Nirvana mindset. like good for u but been there out of trauma and its not fun theres no reason to truly Live. u just float endlessly and experience and it aches so badly!!!! it hurts to want to want and not be able to. and i guess that is different from not wanting at all but... its not different enough for me to justify ever going back to that. or going forward to that. i just got this back and screw enlightenment if it means i have to give up on my passions i dont think life is worth living without it.

and anybody who looks down on that from a spiritual tower has yet to examine their own pride and how empty they feel without it.

anybody who looks down and smiles and wishes me luck on my journey? good for them. im glad theyre living their best life, on their journey as they see fit.

and i feel the need to protect myself because ive been hurt by the pride- the arrogance of others before. a lot of my hurts and traumas stem from my mother being too prideful to recognize that she can be wrong and someone under her power could be correct over her. and it was an uncomfortable truth. so she denied it was one at all and hurt me. i know the reason could be elaborated on. she didnt want to confront her own internal logic. or trauma. or even doublethink. that doesnt excuse her hurting a child for the sake of her sense of pride, of comfort, of self-worth. a child under her power, that she claimed to be parent of. teacher of.

not owing anyone anything is not the same as not hurting anyone. i havent reconciled that yet. oppressors should be held accountable for their mistakes, and give reparations if the harm is physical at LEAST. and i think that applies to politics, yes. privately though? if i beat up a nazi, i dont want to pay for his hospital bills. my personal philosophy struggles between equating people and ideas as a worth measurement, and realizing that that line of thinking is... similar to oppressors. but. its based on something people can change. the question is, do i think "if given the opportunity" is a good enough reason to stop and question a racist that runs their mouth? and do i think pre-emptive violence is okay? if say, a nazi walks into a bar and doesnt say anything but is wearing all the red flags and bells and whistles. i dont think that justifies a beatdown. being asked to leave, sure, but the beatdown doesnt start til the first remark flies.

once the intent is given OR the action is taken, the line is drawn. doesnt matter if they Havent Had The Chance. if theyre starting shit outside of debate spaces like that, and not, say, asking questions, theyre not looking for new perspectives, and it is NOT my job to educate people. its not my job to Show People The Light. a quick fucking google search could tell them why theyre wrong. if they havent put even the most basic energy into questioning their beliefs, thats on them.

it sounds like im trying to absolve myself of blame here. largely because. i think i should go out and help educate people because theyre inherently complacent if theyre, yknow, in a position of power. aka white folk and men and rich folk and cis folk and on and on and on. these people dont live my reality. they dont live the reality of a gay black man in the south, or a genderqueer lesbian in the west, or an indigenous woman whose nation is being targeted, or a muslim woman who cannot wear her headcoverings in the face of danger of death, or an asian immigrant who cant get a job because of COVD age discrimination resurging. we will never live each others realities, but we can become aware of them.

they wont come into awareness without someone asking or telling, and then doing something to change them.

we shouldnt need to go running to people in power for them to be aware of problems in the populace, govt is supposed to help and solve issues like this. like. actively. thats the whole point, make life better for the countrys citizens. and individuals in a position of social power...

are individuals who didnt take on a responsibility to protect and serve or otherwise care for the populace of a nation. i personally think they SHOULD care, but they are not obligated to. i cant make them care about others.

and honestly, on some of them, it would be a waste of time. there are people who want to change or question things and yknow what? they seek out answers. in people or places or online usually. stats and stories.

so like. i dont think someones Potential as a person matters when theres a throwdown about to happen. it really isnt my responsibility to save people from themselves or try to change their sides against their will. if they want to chat about it they can ask questions first.

not throw insults or punches or hatred.

what people have been taught is worth analyzing and trying to correct IN SOCIETY but i cant fix every broken white boy that comes to me. PSAs, fliers, outreach, online videos, debate spaces. those are things i already have access to and can be a part of if i really want to go around changing minds. or yknow. get involved in legislation and be myself around others to change their perceptions of whats socially acceptable or normal. maybe protest, maybe call congressfolk, etc.

but not every comment has to be analyzed or a learning opportunity. im allowed to shut it down, and people can respect that or stop talking to me. this isnt my parents house where i had to justify everything that i said or did when scrutinized, and doubly justify any criticism i had of mother, or any joke i frowned at instead of smiling.

these people dont have that power over me. they arent my mother. they arent my boss, and if they are i can fuck off and get a new job if necessary. they dont have financial control over my living space and food and schooling and physical control of where i can go and with who and for how long. I CONTROL THAT. I do.

Huh. maybe thats why i want a van so bad. i mean... when this lease ends if nobody is gonna end up living with me...

i could just... live in my car and shower at truck stops. get a storage unit for my stuff. save by driving jobs. like 40 to 60 a day. tear out my cars back, insulate it, and install my mattress pad there. water on the floor, cooler next to it, wooden cutting coard, knife, single camping plateware set, and another little shelf for spices. maybe a hot plate i can hook up to the car battery? get a long enough usb and it might be doable. i could go camping and open the trunk to just... vibe.

because yeah, honestly? i dont plan on having a solid apartment for a bit. like a long bit. and i still have like 70000 miles on my car before itll want to go. and by that point, even at like 100 miles a day, thats like 2 years, less if i go cross country in that vehicle. i could save up SO MUCH for a better vehicle, or like. college. live on campus, get some credit, continue working after i figure out want i want to do.

i think thats a solid plan, even if i dont get another apartment and put everything in storage. work as i need to instead of all the time for rent, really only paying for gas, car repairs, car ins, food, and phone data/hotspot internet... that would bring my monthly expenses down to like 500 a month max instead of like 1400. id only need to make some 1000 a month doing contract stuff to save for taxes and stuff. anything extra would be just that: extra for savings and things. holy shit.

depending on how this next month goes for my friends, holy s h i t.

i. i might do this. legitimately.

i. dont think i can yet. i need proof of address to get my license im pretty sure? but hey, thatll be my 21st this year, so. once i have that i wont need a new address for a While. i dont know if ill want one, really.

i could always just ask a friend or family member if i could use theirs for mail that cant go to a PO box.

anyway. yeah. wow.

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koorinohebi · 4 years ago

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OC ABCs: Y1 through Y5, please!

1. How old were you when you created them?

Let's see. Oh wow, to be honest I had to do a bit of math here since I've had Kiomi for so long. SOOOOOO long. And guess what. Even I'm surprised to remember that I created her back when I was 13 years old. It's been what, 17 years since then. Man, time sure flies.

2. What inspired you to create them?

Often times my inspiration to create characters (either making an OC or taking up a canon) is due to friend influence. Kiomi was probably the only one that doesn't share that. Because I was relatively new to the Naruto fandom back when I first made her and I just wanted some interaction from people who played in the verse. (I didnt even know what canon was back in the day. Like, I had no idea that they were called that.) So I made a character with attributes that I liked, elements that I like, etc. while learning all about jutsus and stuff, and how the verse operated. I'm a bit rusty now specially since I've been on a very long Hiatus, but yeah. My inspiration for her came from the desire for interaction and story weaving. That's when I met my first friend in the verse, which just so happened to be an Orochimaru. They were very apprehensive and iffy about OCs but apparently, we were able to hit it off well enough that they were comfortable about interacting with my muse. So apart from just story building, my friend's Orochimaru was part of the inspiration, specially for the environment that she grew up in.

3. Were they different when they were first created?

Well, for starters she's less of a brat now than she was back then. She was so problematic when I first made her. She was so ridiculously rebellious to the point where she throws things at her lord when she becomes pissy and throws tantrums. (One thing hasn't changed though. If Kabuto tells her to behave, she behaves. xD) She's better at handling that now.

Her personality is fleshed out better too. Years of interaction with Muns and Muses alike have allowed me to explore her persona and characteristics. That enabled me to add the layers that were necessary to make her feel more organic.

Let me just say that I love Naruto movies and plotting with friends. Back when all I had was the fact that she's from Yukigakure and that her family was part of a genocide, I was wondering how to tie stuff into the verse more properly. Because of the history of the Kazahana's in the Land of Snow, the technical advancement the place had, I've been able to incorporate that knowledge into creating information for her clan.

Those are just some of the changes that's happened for my muse over the years, but I think my favorite part of the changes is the fact that she has some bonds now that are relatively real. Something that she believes is worth fighting form. Loss is a very big part of her character evolution. The more loss she experience, the more her personality shifts. She's always tethering along the threshold of wanting and protecting bonds, and not wanting to have anything to do with it.

I love the fact that she doesn't feel the desperation for a bond until it's there. Back then, she really wouldnt have given a crap. But now, when she experiences something genuine, she develops an eagerness to protect it. However, when it comes to bonds, the one thing that hasn't really changed is the fact that she'll try to avoid it as much as possible, until she realizes that she can't.

Kiomi's also actually pretty defiant. But I found that mellowing over the years too. When she realized how that gets her into too much trouble, she eventually toned it down. However, it's been replaced by her chronic lying-- which isn't too good a thing either. But the chronic lying is basically her defense mechanism now, because from the start she is bad at dealing with people. Being honest lands her in disadvantageous situations, so she resorted to lies. (She just doesn't know it yet, but that'll get her in bigger trouble. Dont tell her, okay? ^_~ ) Also, being a liar helps her interact better with strangers for intel gathering. When she's faced with strangers, you can bet your horses that the first thing she lies about is her affiliation with Otogakure, because she's learned that not a lot of people trusts shinobi from the Hidden Sound Village. So it's not too strange to see her pretending to be a civilian. It's also the reason why she's often without her hitai ate.

But you know what, Kiomi is inherently a good kid at the core. It’s just that she ended up growing up in an environment that didn’t allow for too much of that. This is why if you’ll notice in some of my threads, she’s actually quite nice to people in similar situations such as her.

4. do you enjoy writing them more than other characters?

I do, actually. Among all of my OCs, I have an attachment to Kiomi. It's probably because I've had her for so long that I can't get enough of her and her growth.

This has reached the point where, if ever I go RPing on another verse or when I return from a long Hiatus (like I have done as of recent) I always end up penning for Kiomi. It's not that I like my other muses any less, it's just my one brain cell has a tendency to pick what it likes and it does like this particular muse.

I'm surprised how well she can adapt to other verses as well, which makes it easier for me to integrate her in certain verses whenever I get a burnout for Naruto. For example, I've played her in Devil May Cry before wherein the two verses kind of semi-merged. It was fun. From shinobi, she casually just got a job in Devil May Cry for devil hunting, I got to make her her own Devil Arm, etc. I've played her in a Fate Stay Night setting where she's the master of the world's oldest bully and even if they dont get along very well, they're able to function as a master-servant team when the need arises. Otherwise she's Gil's personal mongrel. I think one of my favorite crossovers had to be in Magic The Gathering where she's an apprentice to Sorin Markov.

So yes, I do love writing for her, so much.

5. what’s your favorite thing about them?

My favorite thing about Kiomi is her personality. Specially now that I can play on the complication of her emotions.

The best thing that ever happened to her was the fact that she made bonds that she didn't want to lose while knowing for a fact that her the friends that she made belonged to the enemy side. That gave her a lot of things to think about. Decisions of whether she throws away years of loyalty for something new is something I enjoy playing out. Although eventually I know where she returns and whom she returns to, depending on how much she grows attached to the other muse and how willing both parties are to make it canon, that's the only time that it may change.

The good thing about the Next Gen setting is that Otogakure has better relations with Konoha...at least compared to when the entire Naruto series began. This allows Kiomi to have a little freedom in terms of socializing with the little friends that she actually made.

Love's an aspect that I want to explore, but yeaaah. That's hard for her because she dislikes the notion very much. Although I'm sure that if the right person comes along, the possibility of her opening up and feeling for the other person still exists. As much as there's an RP outside tumblr where she does love someone. I do have her as a mutli-ship so basically all bonds are different per verse.

One of my other favorite thing is that she works well with people she hates. It's really funny because I find that-- for starters, Kiomi dislikes Sasuke with a passion. This is pretty much a classic case of Genius vs Hard Work. Sasuke's pretty much a stark reminder of everything that she wants. He's chosen by Orochimaru, he's strong and talented, he's a cut above the rest, for sure. All her hard work gets blown out of the water along with her desire to be the vessel because a favorite exists. But above all, she's actually pretty jealous that he still has a family in the form of his brother. But yes, she hates him so much, but apparently whenever I roleplay with Sasuke's they seem to have certain areas for synergy. Mainly because Kiomi will prevent him from getting killed (that's her job). So she'll help him out, tend to his wounds, spar with him, etc. So there's a certain dynamic there which I enjoy. That's why, to be fairly honest, Sasuke interactions is probably one of my favorites because the rawness of Kiomi's feelings come out. And I really love the fact that I can make this hate canon so easily because she doesn’t need an initial validation from him. She can just hate him on her own until such a time when they meet. It’s great because the more he ignores her, the more she gets pissed off, the more she works harder. Even up to Next Gen, Sasuke’s still her goal, albeit with decreased animosity. *Cough*Frenemies Please*Cough*

( Here’s an ugly doodle from ten years ago.)

It's a freaking meme for me, but I love how she gets into a fight with every Katon user she meets. She didn't get Katon'd, sure, but her worst run in was probably with an Itachi who Tsukuyomi'd her. That was really fun to play out but stressful. They became associates after. xD

Also, her awful way of phrasing some things. Sometimes, when she has a hard time of expressing herself, she ends up blurting things that's easy to misinterpret. It's pretty funny, all the trouble it causes.

#|| Breaking the Ice || Answered #super-kame-love #I ended up gushing.#I'm sorry it so long.

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just-my-fandom · 5 years ago

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Not Alone (Shuri x Female! Reader)

Request; Shuri x Female reader with the rest of the females of Marvel? The reader and Shuri are an assigned marriage in Wakanda but the family has grown to love the reader, but the reader and Shuri are attacked when Shuri is getting the stone from Vision by Proxima Midnight (Ik she doesnt really attack Shuri specifically but she's really cool), the reader is unable to get to Shuri to make sure she's not hurt so Okoye, Wanda and Natasha protect the reader because she is loyalty in the Wakandian family? Sorry its a lot I hope you can write it, Thanks!

Ive finally reached 500 followers! Thank you all!

My first Shuri x reader! Im sorry Ive been inactive, I took a vacation at the beach and the house we were staying at had no service, so I wrote these in my notes then tranferred them over. Enjoy! Send in more Shuri requests!

__________________________________

"They're moving in,"

You step back from the window overlooking the battlefield, gaze turning to the woman standing at a table with a man laying across,

Shuri glances at you, fingers moving through the screens of her computers, frowning,

"The process is taking longer than usual, only because its a stone," Shuri steps back from the computer, as you walk up to her, hand fiddling with the sleeve of your armor,

"I'm going to go help them," You exhale, "Stay here with Vision, get the stone out and stay safe,"

"You're going out there?" Shuri questions, as you nod, picking up a gun left by a guard and pecking her cheek,

"We're defenceless up here. The longer we stay here, the quicker time they have to get to us,"

You turn to the open doors of the lab, gasping when a hand wraps at your throat and backs you up,

"You're not going anywhere," A firm voice causes you to drop your gun, Shuri spinning around and eyes instantly meeting the red of one of the villains, Proxima Midnight,

Proxima shoves you backwards, watching you stumble into the edge of the lab table and sink down, hand at your head,

"Hand over the stone," Proxima orders firmly, sticking out a clawed hand,

You crawl forward, picking up the lost gun and stumbling to your feet, shooting two bullets so you could inch towards Proxima while she was distracted,

You elbow Proxima in the face, hissing when she catches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind your back,

"Shuri!" You call, "Get-" Your free arm flies in front of you when force presses to your back, falling onto your stomach and rolling over, coughing as Proxima plants her booted foot to your chest,

Your teeth grit, eyes peeling open in time for Proxima to press the front of her gun to your forehead,

"The stone," Proxima raises her eyes to Shuri, who had pressed her hands to the edge of the table, one arm slowly behind her back,

"The stone!" Proxima repeats, voice louder as she presses the gun harder to your temple, your eyes pinching shut,

Blasts sound, your eyes opening in time of Proxima stumbling back to cover her blasted eye, Shuri grabbing your arm and tugging you upwards, tossing you a Wakandian gun and pointing her own to the enemy,

"You'll have to get through us first," She snarls, your figure moving next to her to block Vision on the table,

"Easy," Proxima chuckles, dodging your quick gunshots,

You move forward, ducking when she throws her fist, and your gunshot hits her side, Proxima backing up to growl and grab at her uniform,

"Shuri!" You look over your shoulder, reloading your gun, "Get Vision to higher ground, get that stone!"

Black hits your vision when weight rams your front, your gun sliding to Shuris feet as she looks up, your figure hitting the glass window you once stood at, glass flying outwards of the battlefield,

Shuri gasps, dropping her gun, rushing to the edge of the window and catching sight of you on your side, Proxima feet from you on her back,

A beep from the machine connected to Vision makes Shuri look over, glancing at you feet down before rushing to Visions aid,

You groan lowly at the pain in the arm you landed on, sitting up to cough on smoke from fires, head snapping up at yells on the field,

You sit up in surprise, looking over your shoulder to see a group of aliens rushing towards you, yelping when a clawed hand grabs your arm and jerks you up, flipping you onto your back,

"You'll die alone. Just like that pathetic friend of yours," Proxima leans down, gun at your forehead a second time, and you swallow, fingers at her ankle in an attempt to push her off,

"She's not alone,"

Proxima raises her head to search for the sudden voice, eyes finding three women surrounding you,

Okoye spins her staff in her hand, pointing the dagger in Proximas direction, "Release her, now,"

"What is so important about her?" Proxima laughs, force of the gun pushing your head against the concrete, your eyes pinching shut in case she pulled the trigger,

Natasha pulls out two blades, Wandas hands glowing red as she stepped forward,

"One step," Proxima threatens, red eyes meeting Wandas, "And I'll shoot her. If shes so important," Proxima raises an eyebrow, "Get the girl up there away from the stone," She jerks her head to the floor with the shattered window,

"We cant do that," Okoye says lowly, Proxima flicking both eyebrows, cocking the gun,

You inhale a sharp breath, air releasing when Proxima is wrapped in red dust, thrown back, rolling onto her side and dropping her gun,

You sit up, eyes wide, Wanda moving forward to attack Proxima up close,

"Get her up top!" Okoye shouts to the blonde running up to you, and she takes your hand, helping you upwards,

Okoye jabs her staff towards Proxima, who dodges to the side to avoid being stabbed,

"I cannot leave my soldier," You gasp in, Natasha looking at you before she reaches the thankfully working elevator,

"You're one of the queens, right?"

You nod, and Natasha nods back, "If I was given orders to protect you from a specific person, I'm doing as told because I am an avenger,"

The elevator opens, and you move inside, foot bouncing as if it would speed the process,

"Who are you married to?" Natasha asks suddenly, trying to ease the tension in your shoulders, "King Tchalla?"

"God," You breathe, "No, I have no interest in men," You lean against the wall of the elevator as Natasha raises an eyebrow, "I was originally assigned to marry Tchalla by my father and his mother, but I realized I loved the princess instead," Natasha smiles when your shoulders relax, "I'm just glad its not looked down upon,"

"Are you two close?" Natasha asks, noting there were still three floors to wait on, "I've known marriages that were forced and no love was between them,"

"Very," You smile back, "It was weird at first, I'm not from a place like Wakanda so now suddenly having guards with me almost twenty four seven is different,"

The elevator dings, and you step out, moving downwards to the last door of the hall; The lab,

Shuri stands up from her knelt position at the machine connected to Vision, turning around in time for you to set down your picked up gun and extend your arms,

"Are you injured?" Shuri puts her hands at your shoulders, running them to your wrists, "You fell almost six floors down,"

"Im okay," You breathe, "Natasha here along with Wanda and Okoye saved me,"

"She was very calm," Natasha speaks up, and you glance at her to smile,

"How's the process with Vision?" You ask, Shuri taking your hand to pull you to the table,

"Almost complete. This is the slowest process Ive done, I almost didnt have the tech for it," She looks at you, and finds you rubbing your arm,

"Where does it hurt?" She leads you to a table against the wall, demanding you to sit,

"I just landed on it," You try to reassure, but Shuri carefully lifts your arm, watching your face for signs of pain,

She presses into your upper arm, instantly releasing when you jerk and hiss, "Ow, that hurt," You mutter,

Shuri frowns, stepping back and grabbing supplies to wrap your arm, "You sprained the upper half. Guess youre stuck up here with me," She teases,

"I'll stand at the door incase one of Proximas men come up," Natasha steps back, nodding once before stepping out,

"You had me worried," Shuri says quietly, your eyes looking up at her. You could hear the screams of your people and soldiers in the distant, and it made your stomach turn,

"I'm alright," You tuck a finger under her chin, lifting her head to press your lips to hers, "Now that I have you as a personal doctor,"

BONUS BELOW

"Shuri!?" You push through a prickly bush, looking around the silent field, "Shuri!!"

"Your highness!"

You spin around to face Okoye, eyes wide and full of tears as your hands clench, "Stop calling me that!" Your voice makes Okoye halt, her own eyes dull, "Shuri-Shuris missing, I-I cant find her,"

"Y/N," Okoye tries again, quieter, inching towards you as you caress your throbbing arm, "Shuris gone,"

"Gone?" You swallow, "Where? I-Is she dead?"

"I dont know," Okoye exhales, "Shuri along with Tchalla himself both vanished into dust,"

"That's ridiculous," You scoff, "They cant just vanish into dust, I-" Your eyes watch as a man with a gun and long hair falls forward, disappearing into ashes himself,

"Oh my God," You slowly sink down, a tear sliding down your cheek. You pinch your eyes shut, Okoye placing a hand on your back as you lowered your head, wedding ring now in your palm

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missblissy · 6 years ago

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Title: Free Fall Fandom: Red Dead Redemption Genre: Reader-insert, one-shot Character: Arthur X Reader

Follow me on AO3!! Read it there too!

Description: You and Arthur go for a hunting trip into Big Valley but some trouble comes along for the ride too. Things don’t turn up as planned. At all..

It wasn’t all that bad this morning. The rain from the night before had finally started to dry, and everyone started to come out of hiding.

Hosea was already up long before you, sitting by the campfire of the Horseshoe Overlook camp. Pearson had just gotten up too along with Grimshaw. You walked over to Hosea and sat down beside him.

“Good morning,” He said, handing you a small cup of coffee he had waiting beside him.

“Morning,” Your voice was still a little rough, “Thanks,” You took the cup, bringing it right up to your nose and let the steam flow over your face. It was far more refreshing than the chilly wet morning.

You look at Hosea, he seemed worried like always. All this stress of moving and running from the law has turned his hair even whiter and put more wrinkles on his face. He wasn’t looking too good. Every morning though, at every camp, for the last several years, you’ve woken up to spend your morning coffee with the old man. He was the father you never got to have.

“Got any plans for today?” Hosea took a drink from his coffee then looked over to you.

“Mhm,” You weren’t much for words this early. You took a sip of the coffee and then shrugged, “I’m not sure yet... We just got here, it’s only been a couple of days. There is a lot of work to do around camp still.”

“Yes, there is,” He sounded tired, “Maybe you should go hunting. The weather is perfect,” All of a sudden there was a little twinkle shining in his eye, “Years ago...” He started his story with a little smile, “When I was out in this country with some old counterparts, we heard of this huge- I mean really huge buck, right in the heart of Big Valley.”

“Yeah? Did you go after it?” You sat up a little straighter trying to get the hunch out of your back. You saw Abigal and John already having some sort of argument.

Hosea laughed a little and shook his head, “Didn’t even see it. Spent a whole week out there. Not a single damn thing. Nothing. We had better luck hunting the flies that piled around our shit.”

You both laughed at that. Chuckling under your breath, you asked, “You think it’s still out there?”

“Maybe,” Hosea took a sip of his coffee, “I’m not entirely sure, but it’s possible it’s still out there,”

“What’s still out there?”

You nearly jumped out your skin and screamed like a little animal. Arthur was standing behind you two with a bowl of stew in his hands. He had the smallest smirk on his face. So small you could barely even see it. Your heart started to pick up and inside your head, you were spazzing out. But you calmed down from the surprise and cooly said, “Huge buck, up in Big Valley,”

“You don’t say?” Arthur looked interested. You tried your best not to look at him too much. Some days you just wanted to stare from dawn till dusk at that man. Rarely did you ever get the chance to. He was always off doing this and that, running around like a little pack mule for Dutch.

You looked between the two men, and listened as Hosea said, “Why don’t you two go hunting?” You didn’t say anything and just kept sipping at your coffee. Truth is... You and Arthur... Haven’t been getting along too well recently.

Since the whole Blackwater incident, since you saw Dutch... Do that.. do what he did to that girl, your faith in the gang, in Dutch, has been unshaken. Hosea was the only one you could stand to even be around because he was the only one here who knew any better than Dutch, but nobody listened to him much.

It was hard, having to see the small family you loved finally start falling apart. From the start, it had just been the five of you. Hosea, Dutch, Arthur, John and little you. You watched people come and go, many of them died, but it was always you guys.

The last time you spoke to Arthur though, was up in the mountains during the blizzard when he came back with Kieran. You fought over letting that poor guy go, but Arthur insisted on following Dutches orders, and you argued that Dutch wasn’t fit to lead this gang anymore. That was about a week ago. You haven’t spoken since.

There was silence for a bit, you didn’t want to answer or get your hopes up that Arthur would want to go on a hunting trip with you. You did miss him a lot. Arthur was by far one of your favorite people, probably the only person you’d die for. He was, to say the least, the man of your dreams. He was just so... wrapped around Dutch’s finger.

Finally, after a minute or two, Arthur said, “Sure,” and looked down at you. He trapped a finger on your head a few times, “You up for it?”

“Yeah, I suppose. A buck that big could feed the camp for a week,” You were actually very excited to go. It was so hard to keep all those emotions inside and keep your cool and laid back facade.

The three of your got up and started walking through camp. Hosea spoke up and walked between you and Arthur, “Excellent!” He seemed so happy to have the both of you -sort of- talking again, “You’ll need some supplies and I’ll let Dutch know you’ll be out,” Hosea handed you a small bag filled with who knows what he meant by ‘supplies.’

He rushed you off and left with a smile and a wave about how he was going to go read some book. The silence returned between you and Arthur and you felt the need to fill it.

You climbed up on your horse and got comfortable in your saddle, “You know which way we’re headed?” Arthur just let out a little grunt. That meant yes, “Take the lead then.” You said.

The ride, for the most part, was silent and little slow paced. You watched Arthur up front as he took his time to look at the world around him. He seemed just as tired as Hosea. You wanted to fill the void with between you and Arthur so you caught up and rode beside him.

The sun had just barely made it over the hills, the sky was a painting of red, pink, blue, orange and purple. It was beautiful. So you chose that to be the topic of your small talk, “A perfect sunrise, don’t you think?”

“It is,” He agreed, “Aren’t they your favorite?”

“Yeah, it is.” You felt a little smile twitch at your lips. He remembered... It made your heart swell in your chest and your brain scream. It was so difficult being around Arthur now. Since your fight with him, things have changed in a way you didn't think possible. The fight... you both said something that hurt and shouldn't have been said.

The real problem was the denial you were in about how you felt about Arthur. You loved him, honestly, that's what it was. You loved him more and more and every day you shoved those feelings down and told yourself I'm not good enough for him. He's had so many heartbreaks. He's not looking for love. While at the same time you also told yourself he didn't want someone like you. Someone stubborn, someone temperamental and someone who he probably saw more of as an annoying sibling and less of a romantic interest. You know what he wanted. He wanted Mary.

There was silence again. It was awful. It never bothered you until the fight. You use to sit with Arthur for hours on end, never speaking a word, just reading a book while he wilted a stick with his knife. You had to fill the silence, you wanted to talk to him. You wanted him to talk to you.

The sun was well and high into the sky now. You cleared your throat and said, "Do... You remember..." You paused to see if he was listening. You could tell he was because you saw the side of his face and ear facing you, "You remember that time when we were really young, and Hosea was teaching us how to hunt with a bow?"

"Oh yeah, I couldn't shoot an arrow worth nothin," There was a little smile on his face. You rode your horse up to match his speed.

There was a grin on your face and gave him a look, "But I could! I remember the look on Dutch and Hosea's face when I got a bullseye on my first try!"

You both chuckled, while Arthur said, "And John was being a little shit because he couldn't figure out how the hell to shoot an arrow," You remember that day fondly.

"Dutch was so proud of us. He couldn't shut up about how his three kids were learning to hunt and shoot.... and kill," You said that last part with a little bit of regret. You've come to blame Dutch for making you the person you were. But you kept that part to yourself.

"He was. Hosea too," Arthur carried the conversation on, "They share whiskey with us for the first time too, didn't they?"

"Ha, they did!"

As the day went on and you rode on, you and Arthur shared memories of better times. Talking about the old days made you nostalgic in a bad way. It made you realize how much has changed, how much the world was changing. How much you wanted to go back in time and live there forever. Eventually, the ride came turned from open fields to trees and mountain paths. When you finally go to Big Valley you were greeted with huge meadows filled with flowers of all kinds. It was so amazing and beautiful as the flowers made waves of there own in the wind. It was like watching the water on a beach.

You chose a spot to make camp past the open fields and more into the trees. While you hitched the horses and took care of them, you watched from the corner of your eye as Arthur rolled some logs over and made a little fire pit. He was busy, so you tried to leave him be. You didn't want to force him to deal with you. While he was doing that, you started going through the bag of 'supplies' that Hosea gave you.

Sitting down on one of the logs, you until the little string holding the bag closed. You find some pretty basic things. Berries, oats, bait, can of coffee, some cans of beans... And.. Did...? Was that? Moonshine?

Really now? "That god damn bastard," You smile and mutter those words under your breath as you pull out not one, but two big bottles of moonshine.

You looked around for Arthur, wanting to tell him about this little surprise, and you find him a few feet away chopping logs in half. By... God. That was a sight to see. There he was, Arthur Morgan, in the afternoon sun. Sweating. Showing off his arms with his sleeves rolled up like that. You quickly looked away. There those feelings were again. Strong and loud. Your heart raced and you shook your head to push those thoughts away. Instead, you stared at your hands and thought... Just once you thought, what if... Arthur loved you back. It made your face heat up, it made your palms sweaty. You thought and thought and started to get scared because you knew you were only going to hurt yourself if you actually kept feeling those feelings.

"(Y/N)!"

"Huh!?" You sat up straight and looked up. Arthur was standing right in front of you, he must have been talking to you. Oh no... "What?"

"I said... What you got there?" You looked down at the moonshine he was pointing at.

"Oh... uh," You were still a little flustered from before and your brain was having a hard time catching up, "Um," You handed him one of the bottles, "Hosea must have packed it to celebrate maybe?"

Arthur cracked it open and sat down beside you on the log. You were so lost in your thoughts earlier that you didn't even notice that he had set up a tent and even got the fire going. You were surprised when Arthur started during the moonshine. He took a long swig and cringe as the alcohol burned down his throat.

When he handed the bottle to you, you asked, "Don't want to save it? You.. know... for later? After we get the buck?" He shook his head, "Why not?"

"We'll get the buck tomorrow," He said as you took a little sip of the moonshine. You waited for him to explain a little more but he never said anything.

“So..? Why did you come out here then?” You stared down at your fingers as you twisted them together. You set the moonshine down between the both of you.

Arthur just let out a little grunt and nodded his head side to side slowly, “I needed a break. From all of that.” He waved his hand in the air like you knew what he was trying to say.

It took you a few seconds but then you suddenly got, “You mean the camp?”

“Mhm,” Arthur was back to drinking more of the booze, “Everyone has been getting on my nerves lately, it’s ridiculous. I can’t stand those idiots.” He made a face that reminded you of just how much Arthur enjoys his silence and isolation from the vast majority of the world. He was a loner and a stubborn one too.

“Oh…” You said as he offered the moonshine to you and you turned it down, “Well I can…Leave.”

“Nah,” He drawled out, “I can stand you. It’s Micah… Bill. Uncle. A little bit of John too,” He paused then put the moonshine back and his face grew dark, “And Dutch.” You felt something in the air that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You arm hairs stood up and you got a chill that ran over your skin. Arthur hunched forward resting his elbows on his knees and looked down at the ground. His hat was covering face for the most part.

He started to talk, but he got stuck on the words, “I… I know…” He stopped and cursed under his breath, “I know what you saw back in Blackwater changed you,” You didn’t really want to have this conversation right now. It bothered you that he was bringing this up again, “I know you’re not happy with the gang right now,” He took a breath and let out a heavy sigh that carried more weight than you could ever know, “And… I don’t blame you…”

His words surprised you. This was far different from the Arthur you argued with a week ago. He didn’t want to listen to you or even consider what happened in Blackwater. He blindly looked to Dutch and didn’t question his actions. Now it looks like Arthur was confused, even hurt a little.

“I’ve heard around from other people about what he did and I-” Arthurs words were cut off by the sound of gunfire incredibly close to your campsite. The both of you looked around quickly and into the trees. The evening sun painted the sky orange and white, making it a little harder to see if anyone was coming from the tree line.

The gunshots got closer and closer still and you could faintly hear shouting too. Arthur tapped your shoulder and pointed to the little creek down the hill, “Look,” You both found some cover behind a large boulder, “Someone’s being chased,”

You saw a man running for his life. He looked beat up, bloody and broken. He was screaming and stumbling every step he took. Following him close behind were a group of men on horseback.

“O’driscolls,” You muttered with malice in your voice, “Why are the O’driscolls up here too? How many of those bastards are there?”

“I don’t know, but it looks like they’re headed this way,” They killed the man they were chasing and started looting his body. You saw one of the men point in your direction. The fire! It was leaving a smoke trail for them to follow up and find you.

You looked at Arthur and he looked back to you. You shared some unspoken words and a simple nod. He ran left into the cover of some bushes and you went right and found a tree to hide behind. You pulled your revolver out and gripped the gun tight.

As the O’driscalls got closer you could hear them speaking.

“Ya think they still here?”

“They couldn’t have gotten too far,”

You peeked out and saw four men. They had walked past the bushes Arthur had hid himself in and closer to the tree you were at. The tallest O’driscoll said something about your horses and got yelled out, “We know ya still here! Come on out now or will kill ya nice and slow!”

This was it. You took a breath and calmed yourself down. You’ve done this before. No need to get nervous now. It’s just some O’driscolls, they’re nothing.

You walked out from behind your tree with your hands in the air, “I’m out!” You yelled at them. You took them by surprise and they all pointed their guns at you, “I’m out! I came out!” You slowly lowered your revolver down, “I don’t want any trouble now,”

“Well you got some trouble,” An ugly looking man pointed from you to your horses, “What about your friend? We know there are two of ya,”

“He’s hunting,” You lied coolly. Your revolver was still being lowered, “It’s just me. Take what you want,” The O’driscolls started lowering their guns too and walking closer towards you and your camp. As soon as your gun was by your side was when Arthur jumped from the bushes and gunfire cut the silence of the valley and gunsmoke filled the air.

It was an all out shoot out. You dove to the ground and took cover behind your tree while two of the O’driscolls ran off and the other two went for you. You shot at them, filling them with bullets, hoping they die slowly. Arthur had gone after the other two men while you shot down and killed the taller O’driscoll. The other one, the ugly one, was bleeding out but still hiding behind a log. He took random shots and one hit you and grazed right through your arm. You shouted out in pain and swore. You could see Arthur a few feet away beating the shit out of one of the men. He must have killed the other one.

“Fuck! Argh!” It felt worse than it looked. There was a clean cut on your shoulder that already started to bleed, but other than that you were fine. You took a stupid risk, filled with rage and pissed out of your mind that this bastard actually nipped you, you ran out from behind your tree and straight for the O’driscoll. He didn’t even see you coming, he was busy shaking and trying to reload his gun. When he saw you, the look on his face was fear and he was crying. He started to plead with you, saying he didn’t want to do this and that hated his life as an outlaw. He even threw his gun to the side and put his hands up in the air.

Arthur had come running in and out of breath with his gun pointed at the little sad ugly man, “You gonna kill em?” He asked.

“Please! Please don’t kill me! I-I-I have… money! T-take it!” He tossed a few dollar bills onto the ground in front of your feet. You stared him down, getting closer. He was shaking like a leaf, “Look-look! You already shot me!” he did have a few bullet holes in his legs. One in his thigh and one below his knee.

“Looks like you’re already dead, don’t you think, Arthur?” You looked over to the stern man and he nodded his head.

“I’d reckon we should put him out of his misery,”

“N-no! No! Please! I-I-I-” The O’driscoll’s pleas were cut short. You shot him square between the eyes. You didn’t want to listen to him beg anymore and you’d rather get back to your campsite.

You reached down and hooked your arms under the dead man and started dragging him away, “Wanna help me get rid of the- Urgh! Shit!” You forgot you were shot and when you tried to lift the dead man your arm screamed out in hot pain.

Arthur came over and shuffled you away, “Go sit by the fire. I’ll take care of this,”

“No- I’m fine-” You tried picking up the body again but it hurt, even more, this time and it cause you to drop the body and fall with it too.

“Goddammit- Will you listen to me? You got shot for Christ's sake (Y/N)!” Arthur grabbed you by your good arm and helped you up. This was the first time you saw his face. He looked… worried? Upset? It was a mixture of many things but what stood out the most was how his brows were raised and knitted together and a sad little grimace was on his face. It was like he was the one in pain.

“I’ve been shot before,” You winced as he pulled you to your feet, “I’m fine, Arthur. It’s just a nip,” You looked to your shoulder and saw the blood stain soaking your shirt. It looked like you were still bleeding. Your sleeve was torn by the bullet so you pulled it back and gave the wound a real look. It didn’t seem that bad, just a medium-sized gash across your shoulder.

“Just go sit down, okay?”

You didn’t put up a fight anymore. You went to the campfire and sat down on a log. That moonshine looked really good right about now. You took your time swigging down have the bottle before Arthur came back. He sat down beside you an asked, “Can I see?” and gestured to your shoulder.

You nodded. He hesitated and his hand hovered over your shoulder like he was afraid of hurting you. He peeled back the clothes and started cutting the extras bits away. Arthur then reached into his satchel and pulled out some bandages.

The moonshine had started getting to your head so you found it a little funny, “You got everything in there, huh? Got any candy?”

He didn’t say anything but he went back into his satchel and gave you a chocolate bar. You burst out laughing, a little drunk, you found this absolutely hilarious. He gave you this look and raised a brow, “What on earth has gotten into you? And sit still dammit! I can’t fix you up if you keep moving,”

So you sat there drinking moonshine and chewing on some chocolate as Arthur took care of you. All those feelings you’ve been repressing started to come up again. You felt bad, guilty too. You easily feel down the trap that is the negative thoughts that can come with drinking. Arthur was almost done wrapping your shoulder when you made this sad little face.

“Arthur?” You were thinking about what he was saying earlier before the O’driscolls showed up.

“Yeah?” He didn’t look away from your arm, which was okay because you didn’t want him to catch you staring at him.

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?” He stopped and looked at you, to which you darted your gaze away and to the ground, “For what?”

“I’m sorry for what I said. About Dutch… and you…” You could still feel the venom and hate that you spat at him back then. You told him how Dutch was just... Not the same person anymore and how you wanted to leave the gang. That Dutch was going crazy with money and obsessed over power. You told Arthur he was a blind coward that couldn’t think for himself and depended on Dutch to keep him from becoming a sad and depressed old bag of useless shit… Just like his real father.

You waited for him to say something, but he was silent. So you rushed to talk again, “I-I… I shouldn’t have said those things. And-... We didn’t talk for a whole week. I missed you so much, Arthur. It was just a week and I felt like I lost you forever. We’re different.”

He finished bandaging your arm. He still stayed there sitting right beside you. You’re legs where touching and you stared at them as he started to speak, “Well,” he rubbed his chin, “I didn’t say anything nice either. I just really remember you saying you wanted to leave. I didn’t really get why. I didn’t see what Dutch did on that ferry but you did. And I was talking to Hosea, and John and everyone else. They all said things,” He paused and then shook his head, “I get it a little more now. You saw Dutch do something he said he’d never do. You saw the way he exploded and killed that woman. But I can’t have you leaving me just cause something bad happens.”

You’re eyes shot wide open and you looked up at Arthur, “...Me?”

“I-... I mean the gang. Can’t have you leaving the gang,” He looked down at the bottle of moonshine and snatched it up from you with a grumpy looking frown on his face, “Gimme some of that.”

“You said! Me! You said ‘I can’t have you leaving me.’ That’s what you said!!” Your drunk little brain was going wild. Normally you’d sit there and keep your cool but thanks to the booze that wasn’t going to happen.

“Alright!” Arthur snapped, “I said it! So what?”

You stole the moonshine back from him to drink some more and get up to your feet, “It means you want me around!” You smiled. You felt so much better hearing that. You were so afraid before that he’d never want to be around you again.

“I guess it does,” He had a small smile twitching on his lips, “I do want you around (Y/N). You’ve been around me almost all my life, it’d be… weird if you weren’t there.”

The first bottle of moonshine was already empty, “I want you around too. I love having you around,” You felt yourself getting a little dizzy so you sat down again. Your filter wasn’t on either, the words just puked out of your mouth like it was nothing, “I love everything about you, Arthur. I never want you to leave you or leave you behind,” You said it so casually but it took Arthur by surprise.

He was looking at with question in his eyes, “What's wrong?” You asked, “Do I got something on my face?” You started rubbing the back of your hand across your mouth and cheek.

That weird look on Arthur’s face was replaced with a warm smile, then a little chuckle, then a laugh, then huge fits of loud and booming giggles. He was laughing so much that you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. What was so funny?

Arthur cracked open the second moonshine bottle and took a large swig, “Goddammit, (Y/N). You make it so hard,” He said between sips of the bottle, “You are one of the only good things to ever happen to me and you make it so hard for me to stay away from you,” He took another sip, “I was mad. I was mad as hell about what you said last week. I wanted to stay mad at you forever. I stayed away. I did. It didn’t work. Every morning you came out of your tent all sad and heartbroken. It hurt seeing you like that. I saw you slouch around with Hosea, hiding behind him like some kid when your just as old as me,” Arthur chuckled and it made your heart skip, “But today I saw you… You didn’t look sad anymore. Just tried. Empty. I didn’t want to do that to you. I still don’t think you should leave. I don’t want you to leave. But I see it… I see that you aren’t happy here with us anymore.”

You were too drunk to really say anything meaningful. You did something bold and leaned onto Arthur and put your head on his shoulder. You weren’t one for touching others or being touched, but the moonshine was helping you do just the opposite, “I’m happy,” You mumbled, “I’m happy when I’m with you.” You could feel Arthur stiffen up at your touch and his breath hitched as you talked, “You take care good care of me. I wish we could have our own lives though,”

“How so?” He asked hesitantly.

“You know…” You were looking at the fire flicker and flash as it burned away the logs, “Just us. Our own people. We’d be normal. We’d have land, a home… maybe a dog.” Your repressed feelings and dreams started swelling up into your throat and spilling out, “Or we’d run away and go to California. Live in those red wood forests with the big trees were no one could ever find us. We don’t rob people, we don’t steal or kill. We don’t go looking for trouble and trouble doesn’t find us.”

“I wish you told me this sooner,” He sounded solemn, upset. You started to panic and look over at Arthur. Did you share too much? Did you just out your real feelings to him? Shit! Stupid! Stop drinking! This is why you don’t drink ever, not never, because you won’t shut up. You swore off the moonshine, cursing it for being a potent truth potion.

“I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!” You hid your face behind your hands and felt the crazy blush take over. You suddenly felt a tight grip around both of your wrist and calloused hands pull them down and away from your face.

When you looked up, Arthur was right in front of you, face to face with a serious looking expression. You blushed even more and felt the need to jump away, he’s never been this close to your face before.

“Say it again,” He said. You were confused and you gaze flickered back and forth between him and that duck shaped cloud in the evening sunset, “Say how much you want me around. Say how much you want to run away with me.”

You finally looked at him and met his gaze. His eyes were locked hard onto you, searching and digging right into you. You cleared your throat and nervously said, “I… I want you around all the time. Forever. I’ve wanted to run away with you since we were kids.”

It happened so fast that you didn’t even register what was going on until it was almost over. Arthur had close the space between you both by bringing you to him and kissing you. Your heart was pounding so hard that you felt your skull throbbing. He pulled away before you even return the kiss, but there were only inches between you two.

“I’m sorry,” He started to back away, “I should have asked- I’ve.. it’s… too much moonshine-” But you grabbed him tight and pulled him back to face you.

“Do it again,” You said, just like he asked to say it again, you wanted him to do it. Not a second was wasted, Arthur scooted closer and closer until the two of you were pressed together and lip locked in a kiss that had been going on for about a minute now. He tasted like cigarettes and moonshine, not that that was a bad thing. It was almost comforting.

You were stuck together until you both needed to breathe again. Arthur had a big cheeky grin on his face, it was beyond adorable, “I’ve waited some many god damn years for that,” He confessed.

You matched his smile, though a little shyer, “Me too” you admitted, “What are we going to do for the rest of the night?” The sun had started to set a long time ago and the sky was growing darker and darker by the minute.

Arthur grabbed the moonshine again and grinned a little, “Finish this, first of all,” You made a little giggle at that. He then lifted up his arm and gave a little wave of his hand. You slid over and got comfortable so close to him as he wrapped his arm behind you, “Then, after that, we’ll see what happens,” You just couldn’t stop those smiles and giggles. He always brought out the good in you. It felt nice to finally be this close to him. To have those feelings be returned meant the world to you, it meant everything. You didn’t even plan on this happening and yet it did. Arthur would press kisses to your cheek and pull you over to steal even more. He was so starved of attention that he took it whenever he wanted. The two of you enjoyed the rest of the night by the campfire, laughing and drinking and starting a new chapter in your lives.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead #fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #x reader #arthur x reader #van der linde gang #rdr #rdr 2 #one shot #ao3 #fan fiction #Hosea Mathews #confession #romance #cute #dutch van der linde

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hiraeth-doux · 6 years ago

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i am still running

summary: When Barry Allen runs a hundred years into the past to save Diana’s long-lost pilot, he doesn’t know that he is giving her the greatest gift of all.

author’s note: This is a @wondertrevnet Secret Santa gift for @blueincandescence :) I hope I did it justice! Happy holidays!

AO3

1918

“Steve.”

Diana’s voice breaks through the deafening bellow of massive propellers and the roar of blood in his ears, muffled by the wind and the distance between them.

He wavers, for just a moment. Wants to look at her one last time. His throat closes up, his heart so heavy in his chest he doesn’t know how it doesn’t weigh him down to the cold concrete of the airfield that vibrates slightly beneath his feet.

Steve clenches his teeth and surges forward. To look back is to change his mind – he knows it, like he knows that it is not a luxury they can afford. There is no time. If she is who she has been claiming to be all along, if she really can stop this terror then he knows she will, but she can’t be everywhere at once. One of them needs to take care of the deadly gas.

It has to be me.

He has come to this war to make a difference, and he hates that having to choose between Diana and millions of people is the price he must pay for it.

He knows she will understand, though. Knows that she would have done the same thing.

It is the path they have both chosen.

One last burst of effort, and he is climbing into the airplane, fighting his way toward the cockpit. It is easy to move when he has a goal, a clear plan. He tries not to think of Diana, of her disoriented confusion. Tries not to think of the way she looked at him last night, of what her lips tasted like—

Steve sinks into the pilot’s seat, his hands moving on the will of their own as they steer the plane forward, his muscle memory, strong and steady, no match for his scattered mind. For a moment, he can swear he hears her calling his name again, but he brushes the thought off - she is too far away. Must be the wind.

The altitude is making him dizzy, blurring his vision.

The inside of the plane smells of gasoline and metal.

Steve leans back in his seat. He closes his eyes and takes a breath.

He doesn’t think of breaking more promises or wish that things were different for them, but his finger trembles on the trigger nonetheless.

When the fire starts licking at his skin, he thinks of dancing in the snow.

—

2018

The air is fresh.

It is the first thing that Steve notices when his mind swims back to consciousness. It has been so long since he breathed anything but death and blood and gunpowder smoke that despite the fog in his head and dull throbbing in his skull, it is the smell of cold soil and old autumnal grass near his face that snaps him into wakefulness. Even more so than a rock jutting into his shoulder blade.

The other thing is the voice.

“—come on, man. Wake up.” It fades in and out a little, muffled, “God, she’s gonna kill me,” followed by an urgent whisper: “Hey, come on. Steve? Are you Steve?”

There is a tapping on his cheek. And then the other one.

Steve’s chest constricts when he inhales sharply, his lungs expanding as if he’d come up from underwater. He blinks his eyes open, squinting against the brightness of the day even though the sky above him is low and grey.

He is on his back, lying on the cold ground. There is a line of trees to the right from him, blurred in the periphery of his vision; the chilly breeze smells intoxicatingly of snow.

“There you are!” The chipper voice makes him wince a little. “I was starting to get worried–”

He blinks once more, and a face hovering above him shifts into focus. Half a face. Steve’s brows pull together in confusion. There is a man sitting beside him and trying to rouse him - and quite unceremoniously, too. The upper half of his face is hidden under a red mask with some yellow insignia on either side of his head. When Steve looks at him, he breaks into a smile so bright that it is tempting to smile back.

If only he knew what the actual hell was happening to him.

“Look,” he man tones down his enthusiasm. His eyes dart around for a moment or two before he leans closer to Steve, his voice dropping again. “I kinda miscalculated the return point a little bit, but don’t tell Clark. I’ll never live it down.” He makes a face. “Hang in for a little while longer, okay?”

None of this makes any sense. Steve’s eyes drop from the man’s fast-moving lips to his shoulders and then down to his torso, all wrapped in a red suit, tight as a second skin. He tries to think but his brain feels like it is made of jelly, his stomach tied into a queasy knot.

The black sky above Belgium… the plane… Diana.

Headache explodes behind his eyes.

This must be a dream.

“What–” he starts, his mouth dry and his voice croaky. He swallows and wants to try again, but when darkness closes over him once more, he is grateful.

—

There are ten feet and a hundred years between them.

Diana stares at him from across the room in the glass house where the smiley guy who introduced himself as Barry has brought Steve a little while ago. Her face is ashen like she is seeing a ghost, and when she looks at him like that he is not sure he is not one. Even from his spot fifteen feet away from her, he hears her shuddered inhale. His heart drops into his stomach.

The year is 2018, according to Barry and an older man with thin-rimmed glasses sitting on the tip of his nose who opened the door for them when they arrived. A hundred years from the day when he climbed into a German airplane to help Diana stop the God of War from plunging the world into endless chaos. A hundred years that were crumpled and compressed into the few minutes that it took Barry to drag him all the way into the future – Steve chooses not to think of this just yet.

He doesn’t believe that what Barry has told him is true, and Diana doesn’t either, if the look of shock on her face is any indication.

Her eyes roam over his features for several long moments. Someone is talking. There are other people in the room – Barry, the butler whose name Steve missed the first time around, and two other men. If he wasn’t so busy trying to stop his heart from breaking through his ribcage and leaping out of his chest, Steve would probably find it fascinating that the face of one of them if half-covered with a metal plate.

She doesn’t believe that he is real, and he can’t fault her for it. He wants to move toward her, but he is not sure how. Not sure if he can because it has been so long and you can’t walk across time. Yet, he remembers the way she felt in his arms only last night, when the fire went out in the grate without either of them noticing for they didn’t need it. Not when they had one another to keep warm.

The memory is so bright it all but makes him keel over, blood roaring in his ears.

A hundred years…

He stares back.

Diana looks the same but also so strikingly different that Steve is not sure whether to be excited or perplexed, and it is not her hair, slicked back, or her black pants and a fitted long-sleeved shirt – she is dressed like a man but he decides not to dwell on that, or how curious Etta would have been. It is in her eyes, guarded and full of doubt. The Diana he had met on the Paradise Island was starry-eyed and hopeful beyond anything he had ever seen. The woman standing before him now is anything but.

He doesn’t want to know what she has gone through to have the spark that shone brighter than the sun itself grow dim. Not yet.

“Steve,” Diana breathes, and even though her voice is so soft that it barely carries across the space between them, it still feels like a sucker punch that nearly sends him down to his knees.

Steve swallows, hard, and tries to smile. “Hey.”

Someone is speaking. Barry, Steve thinks, but he is not sure. Someone is trying to explain all of this to her. He doesn’t think she is listening; knows he certainly is not. Doesn’t care much for what is being said, either.

All he wants is to look at her, take her in the way he never had a chance to. Before, they were always running out of time.

“Can’t be…” she whispers, shaking her head.

He finds his voice and says, “It’s me.”

A strangled sob rises in her throat. Her hand flies up to her mouth and he watches her face crumple.

“Diana…”

When she slams into him with the full force of an Amazon warrior, he staggers backwards, nearly taking them both down to the floor. Doesn’t care that she has knocked all wind out of him, too relieved, too… everything. He catches her in his arms and gathers her to him, only now realizing that he is shaking all over.

The past hour of his life might have felt like a dream, but this is real. Diana is real. She is warm and solid and so very here. Steve buries his face in the curve of her neck and breathes her in, and god help him, she smells wonderful. Like sunshine and home, and it makes something snap loose inside of him. All the time he has spent holding back – he can’t take it anymore.

“Steve,” she breathes. He feels her lips brush along his jaw ever so briefly. She is saying something, asking something but her voice drowns in a thunderous sound of his heartbeat.

For him, it has only been a few hours, and he still can’t imagine missing her more.

Her hands move over his face, lean fingers skittering over his cheeks, pushing his hair back from his forehead. He can see tears in her eyes, her smile is weak and watery, and the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

“You’re back,” Diana murmurs, cupping his face in her hands, dark eyes flicking between the blue ones as though she is still waiting for him to disappear like a dream. “I don’t—I don’t understand. I watched you–”

She cuts off, a shadow of anguish crossing her face.

When Steve leans in and kisses her, desperate to wipe the last memory she has of him from her mind, he can feel salt on her mouth – hers or his, he has no idea. She kisses him back, deeply and hungrily, a century of longing poured into one touch, enough to leave him dazed and disoriented and breathless. And so alive he can feel it thrumming in his blood. Diana’s hands push through his hair, her arms wind around his neck and he holds her closer, scared beyond words to lose her again.

She feels the same, tastes the same, and after everything it is almost too much to bear.

Steve makes a mental note to thank the cheerful Barry later, but the thought is fleeting. The room falls away. He doesn’t care for anyone standing there. He is lost in her and he doesn’t want to be found.

—

Everything around them is a blur.

Steve doesn’t remember when everyone leaves, or how, but one moment he and Diana are standing in the centre of what appears to be a living room, the weak autumnal sun inching its way towards the horizon outside, and then it is dark and they are sitting on the floor with their backs against the glass wall overlooking the deck and a lake beyond it. The reading lamp on the side table by the couch is switched on, filling the room with warm light, and while Steve knows that they are not alone in the house, he can’t hear anyone else.

His arm is around Diana and her hand idly traces the collar of his shirt. She can’t seem to stop touching him and Steve doesn’t mind. He hasn’t looked away from her once.

His thick coat and the jacket of his stolen German uniform are draped over the back of one of the chairs, a silent reminder of the collision of time. He is yet to understand how they are going to go about all of this because her brows furrow whenever her gaze drifts to his clothes and it is clear that she is no more fond of those memories than he is. He doesn’t want her to remember.

Steve slides a knuckle under her chin, lifting her face to his, and kisses her again, softly.

“I can’t believe this,” Diana murmurs against his lips.

“Yeah, well….” He lets out a short laugh and shakes his head. “Is it really 2018? I can’t exactly… it’s a hard one to process.”

She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and his heart slams hard against his ribs. God, he loves her smile. She raises her hand to stroke her thumb along his jaw and nods. “It is.”

He nods, too. “I–” he clears his throat. “I—I’m sorry,” he mutters.

She frowns. “Steve…”

“That night,” he continues quickly, his eyes moving over her face. The same face. It’s been so long… how is it possible? He swallows. “I wasn’t planning to—I didn’t want to—it happened so fast.” He is stuttering and babbling but he doesn’t know how to stop. She is watching him quietly, and he tries to remember what it was that he wanted to tell her but never had a chance to. “I’m sorry for leaving you, Diana. I’m sorry that you had to do this on your own for long. I’m so sorry for—for everything.”

She touches his cheek. “Steve.”

When he looks up, her eyes are kind. He leans closer to her and rests their heads together.

“You’re here now,” she tells him, and he feels the weight of guilt lift off his chest. Just barely, but it’s a start. “There is nothing to forgive.” If it wasn’t for his arm wrapped around her, he is certain he would have flown away.

“I still don’t understand,” he admits, glancing around the room before he turns to her again.

“I will explain, I promise.” Diana runs her fingertips down his cheek and Steve covers her hand with his, turning into her touch to kiss her palm. “I will tell you everything you want to know.”

He nods once more.

He has questions, so many of them, but they all fade in comparison to the enormity to what has happened to him, to them. A chance he has never dared to hope for. Everything he has ever wanted right there, his for the taking. They have known each for one week - and a hundred years - and his heart feels so full that he can hardly breathe.

“Diana,” he starts, unsure where he was going with it. His thoughts are a jumbled mess, and she is watching him, her gaze full of wonder, making him forget how to think.

She is so beautiful, and because he doesn’t know what else to say, he says just that.

She smiles. Her hand curls over his jaw. “I missed you,” she says softly.

Steve feels the corners of his mouth tug upwards. “I missed you, too,” he confesses, which sounds odd and silly – he is not the one who has spent a century without her – and it makes her laugh a little.

He reaches behind her to pull the elastic band off of her hair and it cascades down her shoulders. She doesn’t stop him as he threads his fingers through the heavy mass, soft and smooth against his skin.

She presses a kiss to the side of his chin and rests her forehead against his again. “You look good for a 136-year old,” she tells him.

Steve laughs. “And how old are you, again?” He teases. They are quiet for a few moments, content in the comfort of each other’s presence.

After a while, he takes a breath, bracing himself for whatever comes next. “So, where do we go from here?” He asks, yearning for her answer and scared of it all at once. He would have done anything for her, anything to be with her, but a hundred years is a long time, and he doesn’t want to presume, not even after—

A void opens up between them. A hundred years feel like forever.

“What do you want to do, Steve?” Diana asks.

He watches her watch him as he searches for words.

He is a man who infiltrated Ludendorff’s circle, a man who walked – well, rode – into the German High Command like it was nothing, a man who climbed into a plane packed to the brim with poisonous gas and flew toward his death. He has done all that, and yet he has never been more terrified than he is right now. No one has ever told him that baring his heart and soul before someone he loves could feel so paralyzing.

Diana is still waiting, the pause stretching between them.

Steve twists a strand of her hair around his finger. He swallows. “I want—I want to do everything we didn’t get to do… the first time around,” he says, hoping against all hope that those are the right words. “To pick up where we’ve left off.”

“I would like that,” she whispers. “I would like that very much.”

She stands up and offers him her hand, “Come with me.”

Steve grabs onto it like it’s a lifeline and he is a drowning man and she is his salvation. Always has been.

He follows her through the quiet house and down the hallway to the last door on the left. She pushes it open and steps into the dark room, pulling him inside after her. She closes the door and turns around. Her hands reach for him, smoothing over the planes of his chest like she still can’t quite accept that he is standing right there, made of flesh and blood.

Steve lets her, watching her brows furrow ever so slightly, barely resisting the urge to smooth that frown out with his thumb.

“Diana…”

She takes a shaky breath and looks up to meet his eyes.

“You must be tired,” she whispers as she lifts her hand to touch his hair near his temple.

“Not that tired,” he says, his mouth suddenly dry because he doesn’t quite believe that he is real either, or that she is, or anyone else in the house, in this time. It felt so much more different with the smiling Barry and the rest of them around. Here, alone with her, the air feels charged and thick, filled with unsaid words and promises he never got to keep.

Her fingers curl over fistfuls of his shirt and she pulls him to her. When she kisses him, there is a different kind of hunger, different kind of longing to her touch than before. The one that coils his belly into a tight knot and sets his blood on fire. It demands and claims and consumes, and Steve is happy to oblige and surrender. He is breathing her like she is the air, the light, the everything.

“Are you sure?” He rasps when he comes up for air, his head swimming and her eyes the one thing he can see.

Diana doesn’t hesitate. “I am.”

Later, he sleeps at last, his arms wrapped tightly around her body, their legs tangled together, his mind at peace. And for once, for the first time since the war consumed them, he doesn’t dream.

—

The world is a mess.

So much more of a mess than Steve could ever have imagined. It leaves his mind reeling.

He has always prided himself on being adaptable, on coping well with changes, but that was before the reality of the future slammed into him like a freight train. There is no keeping up with it now, no taking his new life in stride. There is only holding on with all his might and praying that he is not thrown off at the next curve.

And boy, oh boy, are there many of those.

Diana tells him the truth. About herself and Ares and the secrets that her mother kept close to her heart for longer than mankind remembered itself. There is an edge to her voice when she speaks Hippolyta’s name and it catches in her throat, and Steve knows that the wound is still open and bleeding. That it might take another century for it to heal.

She tells him about the Justice League, too, and while he is fascinated, by the time she is done talking he has realized that he is not surprised it’s where he path took her. It’s in her blood. He can’t imagine her standing aside and watching the world burn. It’s a bittersweet feeling, too – pride mixed with understanding that she has had a whole life that he wasn’t and never will be a part of.

Steve thinks of her first day in his world, on the streets of London, curious and determined and taken aback by just about everything around her. Now she belongs here more than he does, and he has yet to wrap his mind around that.

The regret quells when he sees the fond look on her face, hears affection in her voice when she speaks of the other members of her team. In the few days that he has known them, he has grown to understand the sentiment, and if nothing else, he is happy that she has found her place.

“So, you guys are saving the world, huh?” He muses with a smile when she falls silent.

Diana shakes her head. “We are doing our best to keep peace,” she corrects, suddenly wistful. “The world can’t be saved, Steve. Not when it is set on the path of destruction, not from itself. But we can protect it—try to protect it when nobody else will.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. His instinct is to reassure her but even in his mind, the words sound empty. He knows better than to feed them to her.

One day, Steve thinks, he will ask her to tell him about the darkness she has seen and walked through, but the scars are too raw yet. He can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice; she carries it inside of her like he does his own. Too raw and too tender to the touch, and it is not the pain that he wants to bring back.

They have time, he reminds himself, and lets the subject rest for now.

—

The world is a mess, and Steve has never felt more like a fish out of water before.

He is a little amused and a little insulted when Barry asks him if he knows what a refrigerator is. After all, 1918 wasn’t that long ago. But then Diana has to go back to Paris and he follows – there is no question about whether or not he would. He would have followed her to the edge of the world if she so wished, eagerly and gladly.

The feeling is thrilling and exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

In Steve’s memories, Paris is the city filled with pain and people trying to escape the horrors of the war. The city of hospitals for the injured and a refuge for people running away from the terrors of the front. He remembers grey streets and grey faces, the whole place a smudge in his mind like someone ran an eraser over a pencil drawing. It used to smell of dust and smoke and desperation, bleak image with bleak future.

Diana’s Paris is nothing like that. It is bright and colourful and loud. God, so loud. It sets off his inner alarms and makes him look over his shoulder more often than not. It is packed with locals and tourists, cars honking and cameras flashing. Even in the late November, with its endless rains and cutting winds, it is bursting with life.

Steve tries to match those two Parises together in his head and fails, relieved that hers is nothing like what he feared it might be and scared that it is yet another piece of puzzle that doesn’t quite fit, and might never do. Once again, he thinks of Diana stepping into his world for the first time, his life alien and wild to her. And he wonders if she felt just as lost then as he does now, or if it is different for him because he is looking instinctively for something familiar but comes up empty each time?

Her home is an obstacle course that he needs to navigate with the care and precision of a trained soldier. His boot camp has nothing on Diana’s kitchen with its shiny appliances that confuse and terrify him more than an army of angry Germans. He doesn’t understand why a stovetop needs so many settings, and apparently there is absolutely nothing like a ‘smart’ phone to make a person feel irrevocably dumb.

Steve is not used to feeling so helpless, so hopeless. So out of control.

“You know that I don’t care about whether or not you can use the toaster, right?” Diana asks him one night.

“A waffle-maker,” Steve corrects, frustrated. He has figured out the toaster, thank you very much.

She presses her lips together and tries not to laugh, earning a glare from him in response.

“I almost set your kitchen on fire,” Steve grumbles under his breath.

“That’s what we have a fire extinguisher for,” she points out, amused.

He hums noncommittally and shakes his head, looking away.

A moment later, her arms slide around his waist and she presses close to him. She rests her chin on his shoulder and a shuddered breath stutters unevenly from his chest. He curls his hands around her forearms, thumbs brushing over her wrists.

“And it is our kitchen,” Diana adds – something the she has said before but the sense of belonging hasn’t quite settled yet. Being adrift for so long, he wonders if it ever will. She presses a kiss to his shoulder, warm even through the fabric of his shirt. “Steve?”

“Hm?”

“What if it was me?”

He half-turns to her. “What?”

“After the war, if you—” she falters for a moment.

They never talk of the before, dancing artfully around the subject of his demise that didn’t quite happen, but also did. Sure, they have spoken about Charlie and Etta and Sameer and Chief, trading the stories from his time with them and hers, but there is a wall around that night, an unspoken agreement to never take it down. She is treading carefully along it now, balancing on the edge of it, and there is a tug in his stomach when she comes close to falling over.

“If it worked out differently and you lived, would it have mattered to you that I didn’t know a thing about your life?” She asks quietly.

He thinks of her on the boat, telling him that London looked hideous, in Selfridge’s under Etta’s watchful eye, in the council – equally fascinated and shocked, and his lips twitch a little, the irony in the reversal of their roles not lost on him. He remembers his own amusement and exasperation, their race against time and his desire to slow it down.

“No, of course not,” Steve says decisively. He turns around in the circle of her arms, feeling his shoulders relax, tension draining out of tight knots of his muscles. Diana nuzzles into him, tucking her face into the curve of his neck, her breath warm on his skin, and he wraps his arms around her. “Never.”

“Then why should it matter to me?”

He huffs, unable to argue with his own reasoning.

Some spy, he muses. If he allowed himself to be cornered like that on a mission, he’d be dead within a day. But, as it turns out, that’s the effect Diana has on him. Instant and absolute surrender.

It’s not about that, though. It’s not the coffee machine or her laptop that make him pause in his tracks and do a double-take at his new life. Not the new clothes that fit right but still occasionally make him feel like he is wearing someone else’s persona. He can’t say it, won’t say it, but there are still moments when he is acutely aware of the abyss between them. The one that’s always been there and might always remain.

He has yet to understand by grace of what gods did he get someone like her to love someone like him.

She is a princess and a goddess with a heart of gold. She could have had anything, anyone, and this is not something Steve takes lightly; she could have this whole world at her feet. There is never a moment when he feels like he needs to prove something to her, that he needs to earn her love and affection, but part of him still wants to know that he is worthy, and there are times when it’s not that simple.

But she is right, too. If their situation was reversed, he wouldn’t have cared for a moment. He would have wanted to be with her and he would give himself to her without hesitation. His heart – a little worse for wear but still beating, his soul – a little tired and frail around the edges, his mind and body, and everything in between.

“I love you,” he whispers into her ear.

Never tires of saying it.

—

Steve stops looking for reasoning.

Somebody told him once, a long time ago, that you don’t love someone because of their good qualities but despite their bad ones. Steve knows now that it is bullshit. He doesn’t love Diana because she is generous and kind and full of light, or because she makes his heart beat at a different pace. And he doesn’t love her in spite of her uncompromising stubbornness and impulsiveness.

He just does – because he can. Because he is lucky to have her.

He stops trying to justify it in his mind because it is not a rabbit’s hole he wants to jump into. And more importantly, he no longer feels like he needs to.

He is still learning and it’s infuriating at times. It is not just the technology and the settings on the washing machine that won’t ruin his new clothes. It is everything. The world is made of new rules – how to speak, how to act, how to be. It is a process of trial and error, and there are moments when he needs to remind himself to take a breath. The future is not going anywhere.

He likes Netflix and hates crossword puzzles because everything has changed and he doesn’t know any answers anymore. They invented a new world and gave birth to new people while he didn’t exist. How the hell is he supposed to know who the 39th President of the United States was? When did they get so many of them? Before he died, they were only on the 28th. He likes the cars and doesn’t quite appreciate Indian food that is too spicy for his palate. He does understand the concept of inflation but every trip to the supermarket feels like being robbed in broad daylight.

“We can afford some strawberries, Steve.” Diana picks the crate that he tries to shove back into the fridge and puts it into their cart.

She bites her lip around a smile, and he feels his face grow hot.

Just looking at the price tags is making him mildly sick.

“You could eat for a week on that,” Steve mutters under his breath but doesn’t try to remove anything else from the cart. She will probably send him to wait for her in the car if he does, he suspects, and chooses not to mention that strawberries are not even in season.

Diana shakes her head, her expression sympathetic. “Not anymore, I’m afraid. Not for a while.”

He huffs through his nose.

She loops her arm through his while he ignores an older lady with a young girl giving them curious looks.

Half the time, he can’t help but feel like he is drowning in information that seem to come easily to everyone but him.

He learns not to ask questions when he is not ready for answers.

—

The snow falls two weeks later, thick flakes that come late at night and turn the world outside the bedroom window into something enthralling and surreal.

Steve is sprawled half over her, his head on Diana’s chest and her arms wrapped around him, his breathing yet to be found. He can feel her fingers thread through his hair, damp with sweat, her heart hammering away in earnest into his ear.

He tries to shift his weight off of her. “I’m heavy,” he slurs, utterly spent, but Diana tightens her hold on him.

“I like it,” she whispers into his hairline and he doesn’t have it in him to protest. Not when there is a smile in her voice and he is too boneless to move.

He likes feeling every inch of her body with every inch of his. Can’t get enough of her.

There is still an edge of desperation to her touch sometimes – like she can’t hold him close enough, like she is scared that he might slip right through her fingers. Steve is not afraid of losing her, not really. Not the same way she had lost him for a hundred years. But he is, too, because she is the best thing that has ever happened to him and he doesn’t trust it to last. Doesn’t trust whatever powers-that-be that spin the wheel of fortune high above them and dictate their fates not to screw him over. It has happened before, after all, and he wouldn’t be surprised.

However, that is not to say that he doesn’t trust Diana. He trusts her more than anyone in all of creation and part of him knows that he should be wary of it, but he is not. She sees right through him when even he wants to look away. She takes him apart and puts him back together without losing even the small parts in the process, and somehow in the end he is a better version of himself than he was before. She calls him out on his bullshit but so does he, without hesitation, and sometimes it feels like a balance.

Other times, it makes him want to laugh.

They will both have to figure this out one way or another eventually, but he is not in a hurry. Truth is, he wouldn’t have minded spending forever doing just that.

“Like Veld,” Diana says quietly when he starts to doze off, snapping him back into wakefulness.

Steve focuses on the snow storm. He feels her sigh against him and holds her closer still.

“Do you remember Veld?” He asks. Can’t help but ask. Can’t help but ask so many things.

The memory is strikingly bright in his mind, every word, every touch seared into his brain for the rest of eternity. But, technically, it has only been three weeks for him. It has been a century for Diana. He wouldn’t have faulted her memory for getting blurry.

He feels her hand move through his hair once more. “I do.”

“What do you remember?” Steve traces a pattern over her shoulder with his fingers as the whiteness outside grows nearly absolute.

“Charlie singing,” Diana whispers, smiling.

“Somewhat off-key,” Steve adds with a chuckle, a low sound rumbling in his chest.

She laughs a little and he feels the curve of her lips when she brushes a kiss to his forehead. “Us dancing,” she continues.

“Swaying,” he corrects her like she did back then.

“Swaying,” she echoes, amused. “The room above the inn…”

This time, when Steve pulls back and props himself up on his elbow, Diana doesn’t stop him. His gaze trail over her face. He brushes her hair from her cheek, so drunk on her he can’t think straight.

“Yeah?” He smiles.

She grins back at him, and then laughs, her eyes crinkling, and the sound of it makes his heartbeat stutter and trip in his chest.

Talking about the past makes him realize how fleeting the present could be, and how uncertain the future is, no matter how carefully they plan it. There are reasons why this can’t work out, and reasons why it will. He decides that Diana’s smile belongs with the latter category.

Steve wants to live forever because he wants to never forget. Not anything, not a single thing. For other reasons, too, but mostly this, he thinks. Until she kisses him, and he forgets how to think for a long while.

—

Diana doesn’t have a Christmas tree. Doesn’t have a box of mismatched ornaments, either. Never has. All those years in his world, and parts of it are still as alien to her as they were when she first arrived there.

It comes up during dinner one night and is said in passing, without a hint of wistfulness – it never felt like her place, like her tradition to adhere to or her celebration to enjoy – before she moves on to telling him about her day.

Steve stares at her for a long moment, not quite sure how to feel about it, or what to say. It’s not a big deal, he knows that. In the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing at all. But maybe he could—

Maybe he could–

And just like that, Steve Trevor is a man on a mission again.

The last Christmas he can remember is the one from when he was 9, and his chest constricts with a rueful twitch even though the memory is blurred and frayed and out of focus. He hasn’t thought of that winter in so long that he can barely pull the images from the back of his mind – the candle-lit table and modest but delicious meal, the smell of food rich in his mind, and them sitting together at the table by the fireplace as the storm raged behind snow-frosted windows.

On impulse, he tries to conjure the sound of his mother’s voice but it fades off into nothing. Not even a hint of it left behind.

He wonders where those memories went and what took their place, and what happened before or after that made the magic fade. The war, he thinks. So much of it that for the longest time he didn’t know how anything else would ever fit. Good things, too. Friends and shared moments of connection; belly laughs when good spirit was all they had.

Disappointment cuts through him and he shakes his head, forcing himself to stay focused.

Steve hasn’t thought of Christmas in forever and a half. The war never took a break for celebrations, and besides, when each day they woke up and got to see the sun felt like a miracle, if seemed foolish to consider a holiday something special. Sometimes, he feels like the war has lasted for decades. Like it has never ended.

It is not about Christmas though, he decides in the end. Not really. Not in the general sense of things.

He knows he doesn’t need to earn Diana’s love any more than she needs to earn his – and god help him, she never did. He has loved her since the moment he met her. Maybe since before then even – he can no longer remember not feeling the burning tightness of it in his chest, the force of it thrumming in his veins. But it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to give her everything, and while laying the world at her feet and fetching each star from the sky might not necessarily be a practical plan, maybe he can start somewhere else.

Somewhere smaller, for now.

Steve has Diana’s credit card. He has only used it on groceries before, and – once – to buy her flowers. And even though she has told him many times that he can, he should, do whatever he wants with it, he has never taken her up on her offer before.

It is burning a hole in his pocket when he steps into the department store and reminds himself to breathe. The place is loud. It’s packed and full of colour and it sets him on edge (because apparently you can take a man out of the war but you can’t take the war out of a man). It makes him want to turn around and retreat to safety, wherever that might be.

Yet, there is no gunfire outside and no planes in the sky dropping bombs on the city. When hi heartbeat settles, he realizes that it is excitement that surrounds him, and so he squares his shoulders and marches on, wishing he’d made a list and worried that he will forget something.

“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?” A sales assistant whose name tag reads Jen asks Steve when she finds him gaping at the shelves and trying to wrap his mind around the choices that he doesn’t know how to make.

He blinks at her. “Huh?”

Is there?

The list would have been handy right now.

He thinks of Diana and the things that she likes – books with deep meaning but also comic strips in the morning paper and strong tea on cold nights, she likes breakfast food and wearing his shirts and having her hair down, and she really likes that thing that he does with his tongue—

Not helping.

Not helping at all.

Steve clears his throat, feeling the back of his neck grow hot.

Maybe he does need some help, just this once, because he has never felt this out of time in his life, and there is a very good chance that it will take him another hundred years to get used to the world that is no longer his, but he doesn’t have a hundred years. He only has two days.

—

He would have been surprised if everything went as smoothly as he planned so of course it doesn’t.

Steve is a decent enough cook as long as basic survival is concerned – he can assemble a mean sandwich, pour milk into cereal without spilling it, and no one makes those instant noodles like he does, hands down. However, cooking a meal is not the same thing, and even though he is fairly certain that is it not a complete disaster – hey, at least the kitchen is not on fire! – he is sceptical about the overall result.

He is debating the dilemma of lumps in mashed potatoes and whether or not it’s worth giving that mixer thing another try when Diana comes home earlier than he expected, pink-cheeked and with the snow melting on her wool coat.

He hasn’t noticed that it started again.

She is early and he hasn’t cleaned the cooking counter yet and the roast is going to need another half hour in the oven, provided he figured out how to use the damn thing correctly, and even though he knows that none of this has to be perfect – because nothing and no one is, except maybe for Diana herself but she would never agree with him if Steve told her that – he still wishes that he had more time.

For a long moment, Diana stands frozen in the doorway, her hand on the knob, her eyes moving over the Christmas tree that takes up the whole corner, adorned with bright ornaments that don’t look quite like those that Steve’s mother kept in the box that always made him think of pirates and hidden treasures, but they are shiny and pretty and, dammit, he tried his best. She takes in fairy lights strung around the room and two rather tacky-looking socks hanging over the fireplace and more ornaments that he attempted to be creative with.

(There is a present for her in one of the stockings, too. The best idea he could come up with on such a short notice that he didn’t have to pay for with her own money. It’s a braided leather bracelet that Chief made for him a while ago. He called it a good luck charm, and while Steve didn’t believe in luck, never had, he carried it with him. Perhaps because he has always believed in friendship and gratitude above all else.

He found it in the pocket of his pants the morning after Barry brought him back, the only thing he still had from his own time, aside from his father’s watch.

There is not much else he can give her, except for his heart maybe, but she already has it so a bracelet will have to do.)

“Steve,” Diana breathes, turning to him, and he is suddenly very aware of her apron that he is wearing and the flour on his hands and how half the kitchen is a mess while the other half is only a step above it.

“I thought you had a meeting,” he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind, and grimaces when it comes out like he doesn’t want her there. Because he does. He always does.

She smiles. “I cancelled it. It’s the last day before the holidays, I sent everyone home early.”

He nods and glances around in panic, his mind racing. He turns back to her and clears his throat.

“It was meant to be a surprise,” he confesses.

Diana presses her lips around a smile. “So I see.”

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” he adds.

“I figured.”

She steps into the apartment and closes the door, pausing for a second to notice a wreath framing the peephole. (Steve still can remember how they used to make those themselves but now one could buy a hundred wreaths of any shape and colour like it’s nothing, and for some reason, it is mildly disorienting.)

He fumbles with the apron belt until he can yank it off and tries to smooth down his hair—and great, now there is flour in his hair, too. Smooth, Trevor. Very smooth. This is not how it was supposed to happen, he thinks. He had it planned out, and…

And he doesn’t care about any of that, not one bit, because Diana crosses the hallway and walks over to him. She shrugs off her coat and drapes it over the back of the chair – and he catches the fresh scent of winter clinging to her clothes - before dipping her finger into a bowl of sauce he has been working on when she walked in.

“This is good,” she tells him after licking it clean.

Steve gapes at her, his jaw slack. She bites her lip, trying not to laugh, and it is suddenly more than he can handle. He reaches for her, his fingers curling around her hips to pull her closer until there is no space and no air left between them, and then he kisses her like it’s been months and not mere hours since the last time he did just that.

Diana kisses him back, her hands winding into his hair.

“You didn’t have to do so this, Steve,” she murmurs against his lips when he pulls back.

He rests his forehead against hers and traces his thumb along her cheekbone. “I wanted to.”

She smiles at him. “It smells wonderful.”

Steve makes a face. “Don’t say that until you’ve actually tried it,” he warns, his voice self-deprecating. “That… um, Google thing wasn’t very helpful, if I’m being honest.”

He feels her nails scratch through his hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re a marvel,” Diana whispers, shaking her head a little, and kisses him again.

—

They eat, and even though there could be fewer lumps in mashed potatoes and the roast could have used some more seasoning, it is not half as bad. So much so that Steve can’t help but feel all puffed-chest proud because everyone starts somewhere, and having a room to grow is not something to be ashamed of.

He can take a rifle apart and put it back together in his sleep, he survived the war – or almost did, at least; he is yet to figure out how to factor Barry’s assistance into the narrative – but up until a few hours ago he was someone who Charlie once labelled as “a man who can’t fry an egg to save his life”. The roast feels like an accomplishment. (So what if the apple pie is store-bought?)

Intrigued, Diana offers to help, but he waves her off, determined to finish what he has started. It’s the least he can do.

They eat with the music playing in the background, and Steve watches her in the candlelight with fairy lights twinkling above them, a small smile on her face. And he thinks that he would travel across a thousand years to fall in love with her all over again if he had to. If he could.

When he pulls out the bracelet, recognition sparks in Diana’s eyes. Recognition and understanding when she touches soft, worn leather, old memories flaring up in her mind. He watches them chase across her expression, her features softening.

“Steve.” She looks up at him, her thumb tracing the curves of the delicate braid.

She hasn’t known his friends like Steve knew them, but so can be said about him, too. All those years that she spent with them after the war…

He is suddenly very aware of the thread connecting them – with each other and with the past. Something that runs deeper than anything he has ever felt. Something that, he suspects, will still be there long after they are both gone.

“I know it’s not much…” Steve starts and trails off.

Truth be told, he knows nothing about current trends and fashions, or what one could give to a woman who seems to already have everything, and that’s the problem – there is so much that he wants to give her, but he is only a man. The only who loves her desperately and unapologetically, hoping and praying that it’s enough.

Diana is shaking her head. “It’s beautiful,” she assured him earnestly. “It’s–”

“From Chief, yeah,” he nods.

“I don’t have anything for you,” she says as he affixes it around her wrist.

She touches his cheek with her other hand, and when he raises his eyes, he finds her watching him, her expression odd in the way he can’t read. There are still moments like this sometimes, when she looks at him like she can see into his soul, and he wonders if she can find there something that she might not like.

He has never wanted to share more of himself with anyone than he does with her. He has never been more scared to do so, too.

“I have you,” he says simply, moving closer and reaching up to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear as he tries to bottle up the contentment that he feels around her so he can remember it for as long as he breathes. Knowing what Diana is and what she is capable of doesn’t make it easy for him to believe in magic, not entirely, but this moment - with the fire crackling in the grate and the smell of pine and cinnamon heavy in the air and the snow falling outside - is as magical as it can be. “What else can I ask for?”

“Flatterer,” she says, breaking into a smile so bright that it unravels the tight knot in his chest and he laughs before dipping his head to press his mouth to hers. She tastes of sugar and wine as she kisses him back, her hands on either side of his face.

He could do this forever, Steve thinks. Every day for a thousand lifetimes.

—

“Why would you do it?” Diana asked Barry the morning she and Steve left Gotham, their bags piled in the corner and Bruce yelling from the Batcave that the weather was about to turn for the worse and they should get going.

Barry stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his pants and looked down at his socked toes. Mismatched, Diana noted as she watched the tips of his ears turn red.

“I saw the photo,” he told her, grimacing a little, and her heartbeat stuttered in her chest.

She never knew he could do that, run faster than time itself, and even if she did, she would never have asked him to do this. Not for her, not for anyone else, not any more than she would have used her own powers for personal gain. And here he was, standing before her and looking like he was about to get chastised for giving her the greatest gift Diana could ever imagine.

Affection pooled in her chest, her throat tight with emotion.

“Barry…”

“And the watch,” he added quickly, looking up to meet her eyes. “That time, in the Batcave, you had that watch… which I assumed was his because it was all old and ugly—sorry,” he catches himself, “and I just–” he ran his hand over his hair, shrugging a little.

As if it explained everything.

As if it explained anything at all.

She smiled and moved toward him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, his body stiff for a moment because apparently the gesture came as a surprise. “Thank you,” she whispered into Barry’s ear as a bout of Steve’s laughter carried from the lounge. “Thank you for bringing him back to me.”

The memory feels weirdly old now.

It is impossible to believe that it has only been several weeks since he ran all the way back to 1918 to pull Steve out of the plane seconds before it went up in flames. Since Steve smiled at her from across Bruce’s living room and made a hundred years that had passed since that fateful night a century ago fall away, her time without him feeling like nothing but a faint dream.

There are still moments when she can feel his absence like a gnawing tug in the pit of her stomach, a chill running through her system when she least expects it. There are times when she wakes up in the dead of the night certain that it has all been an illusion. But the pain is not as sharp. It no longer takes Diana’s breath away or leaves her gasping for air, and all she has to do is roll over and reach for him to get all the reassurance that she needs that he is really and truly back.

The process is slow, but she is healing.

On Christmas morning, the world outside is quiet and white. Steve is in the kitchen, making hot cocoa for them – like they used to do in his family. With marshmallows – because he knows that she likes it that way. He is humming under his breath, and Diana smiles despite herself watching him from the doorway, her hands itching to smooth down his rather epic bedhead, his hair sticking out in every which way.

Last night, they did a puzzle, a thousand pieces strewn over the coffee table, and talked late into the night. They drank wine and danced to the melodic ballads about finding love and the miracles that happen on snowy nights. And then he took her to bed and made her forget what it felt like to be without him. Until her world was nothing but him.

Diana runs her index finger absently over the bracelet still wrapped around her wrist. She feels magic thrumming through it, ancient magic that has existed since before her time and will still do when there is no trace of her left in this world. And she wonders if Chief knew. If he knew to keep Steve safe until his time came to return to her. And she says a silent thank you to whatever gods that made it happen, to the stars that needed to align just the right way.

Steve turns around, two mugs filled to the brim in his hands with marshmallows bobbing on the surface. When he spots her, he smiles, and her very soul unfurls in her chest, taking up the space carved out by loneliness and heartache.

He puts the mugs down and walks over to her, his arms sliding around her waist. His grin is cheeky when he glances up, and Diana has a split second to follow his gaze and notice a sprig of mistletoe above their heads before his mouth captures hers.

When he kisses her, she feels safe. Like being lost and finding her way back to where she belongs.

“Merry Christmas,” Steve whispers when he leans back, and she can’t help but smile, her heart so full it might burst.

“How many of those did you put around the house, Steve?” She asks because it’s not the first mistletoe she’s come upon and she doubts that it’s the last one, either.

Not that she minds it, all things considered.

“Hey, it’s a tradition,” he protests without answering her question. “It’s what people do…” when they have no wars to fight. He trails off, and she feels like she is drowning and soaring all at once.

Man’s world finally feels like home.

#wonder woman #wondertrevsecretsanta #wondertrevnet #diana prince #steve trevor #wondertrev #my fic #secret santa #wondretrevedit #wwedit

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undeadqveen · 5 years ago

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✕ — isn’t that shiklah wandering the streets of new york? civilians know them as queen of the undead and see them as an anti-hero (or villain depending the day,,, yike). as far as i know, the one thousand+ year old stands with the legion of monsters & howling commandos and are rumoured to be pretty authoritative & cavalier. ( priyanka chopra /demi-girl / she/they )

{ trigger warnings : coma mention, war, sort-of-not-really-cannibalism (since u kno, demon, but still human eating), torture, medical/experiments }

everyone say hello to my monster!baby, shiklah! she is the literal light of my life and i can only hope i do her justice. sooo here we go.

I. : INTRODUCTORY INFORMATION: //

shiklah hasn’t been around in the comics for too long. and all her appearances in marvel are entirely comic based

so this rendition of her is going to be based on that, with my own head canons filling in the gaps along the way to make her a fully fleshed out character

II. BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION: //

age: old. really fucking old. she was alive before the first humans.

gender: demigirl. her war demon form is gender neutral. she wears female human skin, however.

height: 10’3” in true form, 5’8” in humanoid form

species: succubus, sorceress

occupation: succubus queen, queen of the undead, queen of the underworld, queen of monstropolis

place of birth: the arabian peninsula

citizenship: arabian

marital status: married (two polyamorous marriages)

orientation: pansexual, panromantic, and polyamorous

pre-coma family: mother and father, names unknown (deceased); amjad, brother (deceased); baqir, brother (deceased); jenny, cousin (alive and a fucking badass)

children: cathan, adopted son (species: demon who prefers a werewolf form, sorcerer)

pets: bug, her pet dragon, who flies and breathes fire. he’s a good boy.

affiliation: leader of the legion of monsters

base of operations: monster metropolis (otherwise known as monstropolis), morlock tunnels, manhattan, NY

moral alignment: lawful evil

III. HISTORICAL INFORMATION: //

before humans were even around, shiklah and her family ruled the monster world. but the vampires wanted to overthrow their family. cue a war that lasted centuries and saw the coming of man. aka a long ass fucking war. my poor baby.

during the war against the vampires, shiklah’s kingdom had fallen, and her and her father witnessed the deaths of shiklah’s two brothers.

her father, in a,,,,, stroke of,,,, genius? well. a stroke of something. decided to lock shiklah up in a sarcophagus for. however long it’d take until the war ended or until she was going to be wed. surprise surprise.

well. dracula decides to hire deadpool to go wake up shiklah. so they could be married and end this long ass war and finally have peace. things were going fine until deadpool gets into a fight with a minotaur and shiklah’s sarcophagus shatters, awakening her and bug.

IV. MODERN INFORMATION: //

in her short period of time being awake in the modern world, shiklah was nearly assassinated by blade, was captured by hydra, and captured by aim, both of which wanted to exploit her powers and experiment on her.

she also fell in love with wade who taught her how to acclimate to the modern world, about technology, and about popular culture

when humans brutally murdered a centuries-old monster who resided in monstropolis, an elder monster who was completely senile and not a threat to anyone, shiklah sort of. snapped. she tried to handle things with civility at first, going in front of the courts and asking for retribution for the cold blooded murder of her loyal friend.

when the courts laughed in her face and told shiklah that monsters aren’t protected under the criminal code, she realized humans really are horribly discriminatory, and declared war against them.

to stop shiklah from killing. everyone. wade went to get dracula, who came to find shiklah and proposed. the two were also married and shiklah took a temporary leave of her duties to pursue their relationship and learn how to rule as a fair ruler, not a forceful one. she realized she didnt like using her powers to rule her own citizens by force. proud of you, baby girl.

V. ABILITIES INFORMATION: //

succubus physiology

enhanced strength, speed, dexterity

supernatural beauty

royal-level mystical abilities

pheromones (my personal head canon, it hasn’t been written in the comics yet but her cousin jenny has succubus pheromones and it’d make sense shiklah does, too, as part of her supernatural beauty)

shapeshifting

hellfire/soulfire manipulation

enslavement beams,,, yike

life-force absorption

necromancy

VI. ADDTIONAL INFORMATION: //

i wont bore you with all of my myriad historical head canons about shiklah’s life before her millennia long sleep, they’ll probably come up as flashbacks in her threads anyhow, plus theres so much time there to fill in that i’m sure shiklah will also tell me things as time goes on

what’s important to know about this though is that shiklah is, in many ways, very traditional. she loves donning a maid outfit and cleaning her entire palace. shes a forceful female ruler who’s still subjected at times to her thousands of years old preconceived notions of gender roles

she loves to party. she’s admitted to wade before that she throws parties with her monster friends all the time — one’s that are orgy ceremonies actually

she eats humans, particularly in her war form. it’s cool

she’s pretty naive to the ways of the modern world. wade fills her in on stuff, but it’s also wade, lmao. her perception of things in the modern era is very biased towards deadpools own views on things

she’s adorable sometimes? like. super scary evil murder demon baby who cracks jokes about the kardashians.

shes evil towards humans but she is a fair and just ruler to monsters. she doesn’t like asgardians because apparently her people were enslaved by them during a conflict thousands of years ago. this issue though was sort of resolved when her cousin jenny was tricked into starting a fight with jane foster, and the two ended up reconciling and becoming close

but she respects the inhumans and she respects mutants, especially ones whose powers altered their physical appearance

tbh she wants to mom every monster looking kid

she reads comics in the bath like a cutie

she also goes to conventions, especially comic conventions, where people think shes dressed in cosplay. their reaction to her answer, “no, this is just the human skin i’m wearing for the day,” is her favourite thing

she loves bug more than anything else

consequently she loves sex almost as much as bug

blood k!nk~~~

she will kiss you and drain some of your life force. she will. it’ll give you a rush of adrenaline like nothing else and it really gets her off.

personally i HC that she was actually taken by hydra for a while and she was actually taken by aim for a while. she was weaponized by the former and experimented upon by the latter.

actually i have a lot of angst head canons for shiklah that’ll probably come out more in her threads and flashbacks too

she knows the x-men and some of the avengers and the fantastic 4 because they were at her wedding with wade????????

similarly, i imagine she knows most of the people he was on teams with or worked with, tbh. she probably loves the kinneys actually

she has a son she adopted, a five year old little demon sorcerer who she named cathan (in honour of the elder god, c’thon). he’s a little monster baby who uses his shapeshifting demon powers to stay in a werewolf humanoid demon form — because he was raised by wolves before shiklah rescued him

as a ruler of one of the dimensions of the underworld i imagine she also knows the other hell leaders such as dormammu, the hellstroms, mephisto, etc. but also other hellfire users like ghost rider.

shes evil but she has a big heart for the people she cares about. she has a bad tendency of prioritizing her needs and wants over what the people she loves needs or wants but she’s actively working on that, too

shes full of juxtapositions? which is why i love her. shes cunning in some ways but naive in others. shes evil to some but a darling to others. shes a war demon but also a housemaid. shes so complicated and diverse and i can’t wait to write her with you all!!!

— i think that’s about it for now?! shiklah is my BABE honestly. so hmu for all the plots because im sO EXCITED for her ok thanks fam ily <3

#﹠⋅ 。♡ 𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘. ⋮「 ── she’s born a leader ‚ no throne or crown needed. 」#「 archives. 」#73:intro #﹠⋅ 。♡ 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉. ⋮「 ── shiklah. 」

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abundantchewtoys · 6 years ago

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HS Epi: Meat p12 reaction

Back to Earth C presumably.

I gotta say, I'm curious to find out the final page count of Meat. The way we liveblog, the experience is stretched out, so with theories surfacing and such, we might be caught off guard when things are really over. There's only so far that things will be taken, though I guess we're still in for those "original Male/Female characters", I guess. :P That shouldn't refer to the new Reload timeline John created, I think, with copies of all the people mentioned in the rest of the character list. So, uh, yeah, guess the reason Arquiusprite wasn't mentioned in there was because he remained unseen, voided out if you will. And I guess we shouldn't expect an alternate Equius to have a talking role, either?

---

==>

Well! Talk about jumping straight into the action, this page opens with a dialoguelog! Back to Dave, Karkat and if my eyes didn't deceive me, we'll get some lines for Jade, too! Supportive Jade will be supportive.

"hit jane right in her neoliberal austerity measures" ... Hah. Well, I didn't think that would get referenced again at all, but it seems after all these years since John's 18th birthday Dave still has issues with the ol' N.A.M. So, Jane's a neoliberal AND a fascist now, Dave? Is that... even feasible?

"DAVE: now shes gonna spin some shit about supply side economics but we cant let her control the narrative on that one cause the first thing thats gonna happen once she begins deregulating the baking industry is that some sweet dumb crocodile down in consort land is gonna start putting sparkle glue in the cupcake mix which isnt even the real issue thats just surface issues KARKAT: RIGHT. JADE: definitely" ... Like, Dave I admire you're getting so into this, but you realize they aren't following, right? Also, why would Jane want to deregulate the baking industry if she's the leader of the foremost power in said industry, as well as running for president? Plus, Jane can't control the narrative because Caliborn is already controlling it! :mspa:

"DAVE: i mean earth c has just been play acting capitalism the last five thousand years while we timeskipped ahead to live rad lives as gods without bothering with any of the boring shit that goes into making a civilization DAVE: which is fine i mean you cant really expect a bunch of teens who didnt finish middle school to set up a sustainable form of social democracy that isnt just blatantly ripped off whatever we incorrectly thought obama god rest his soul was doing back in the day" ... Gee, Dave's given this a real lot of thought. Props to him, but I hope that aside from becoming 'an activist' he's also got some legitimite action points to improve Earth C's situation.

Guess Sburb really does a number on players, huh? "Congrats, you won, you're all gods now, and also, here's this whole civilization on the brink of collapse, have fun with that. Don't mess this up, I need those people to start the apocalypse in say, 2000 years, k thx bye." (The fact that this civilization, being outside of the Green Sun's influence, may never implement Sburb, is a bit besides the point since I think the trolls would have had the same issue tossed onto them had they actually gone through the victory door.)

Right, but the trolls had their home planet already effectively run by children, I wonder if that will come again? Even though they had carpenter droids at their disposal to run some things for them, they might actually be a bit more self-reliant than the humans!

"DAVE: but janes got this old school mentality you just know she wants to restrict grist alchemy for the sake of “growth” and when that goes down itll take three seconds flat for some nobody in new dersetown to drop the earth c communist manifesto" ... New Dersetown, I like the ring of that. Would call it New Dersey for short, though. :P Again, valid points there, Dave! If any revolt started, it doesn't have to be in the troll community, it could just as much be an angry carapace uprising! They're only docile if there's no one to rally behind.

Blaperile has this idea that the new society in a universe is not supposed to be seeded with the remains of the session nor the universe that came before it. That's actually a valid point; the only reason this society got kickstarted was through the cloning apparatus that was on the meteor! The consorts and carapaces seem like they would be able to reproduce biologically though, so I'm not sure how Sburb normally ensures the planet is a clean slate for a new species to emerge. ... Okay, so the planet itself doesn't really need to be the place where a new Sburb-playing species rises, true. There's a whole new universe out there.

Maybe through "importing" old Sburb technology, the "alpha" planet designation went to Earth C automatically, though.

Or maybe First Guardians are expected to 'cleanse' the planet from outside influence normally, but since this society's outside of the Green Sun's influence, that ain't happening. And Jade won't be going Thanos on Earth C.

"KARKAT: OH YEAH. JADE: of course DAVE: are you two even listening or are you just making noises with your mouths" Dave realizing he's monologuing? What character development is this. :O

"KARKAT: I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M BEING ACCUSED BY DAVE STRIDER, REIGNING EMPEROR OF SPEWING ENDLESS VERBAL DIARRHEA DIRECTLY INTO MY INNOCENT HEAR DUCTS EVERY DAY OF MY FUCKING LIFE, OF MAKING THOUGHTLESS MOUTH NOISES. KARKAT: JADE, ARE YOU HEARING THIS? JADE: im scandalized JADE: especially when JADE: there are much better things we could all be doing with our mouths....." ... Jade, your animes are showing again. ... I think that maybe Jade doesn't want this relation to be going where Dave and Karkat want it to go.

"It’s been a really nice day they’ve been having, and then Jade had to go say something like that. The air in the hive changes in a way that is palpable, in a way that she can’t seem to accurately gauge despite having both superhuman and superdog senses." ... Ah. So I guess maybe Jade just can't get a lid on some of her more... canine inclinations, at time. Welp!

"Elements of her outfit resemble her god tier jammies: peasant skirt, sparkly flats, and a bold choice in striped tights." Nice! That's only the third person who created an outfit based on her god tier outfit that we know, aside from Meenah and Rose.

"the couch where she crashed last night, and the night before that, and the better part of the seven years before that." It would seem Jade has the wanderlust then, she's more like the vagrant dog that comes visiting from time to time? More GCAT in demeanor than Becquerel, in practice. Heheh. Good for her, after being isolated on an island and then a battleship for so long, she's finally going out & seeing things!

"There are other personal effects of hers in the living room too: plants on the windowstill, her bass guitar sitting in a corner" Cool, so when she comes over, she typically lounges here then. Guess the flute never made it over, though. :p

"a horrific-looking periodic table that Dave made her for her seventeenth birthday pinned above the stairwell. He typed it in Comic Sans, and then deep-fried it to oblivion with JPEG artifacts." ... Next up, on For Fans By Fans...

"And Dave, with his preternaturally perfect timing, sweeps a hand over his tablet to bring up a new PowerPoint slide on the TV. He returns to his Comic Sans-written political presentation, gruesome artifacts and all" Dave, Dave that isn't professional at all!

", with the grace and proficiency of a man who has diffused an awkward situation in his own household many times per day, every day, for many years." Well, okay, that is really mature. But when Dave is the adult in a situation, the situation is very awkward per definition.

"DAVE: alternia: brutal eugenics based space dictatorship KARKAT: NOT UNTRUE." Succinct, brutal, but not dishonest.

"DAVE: troll homeworld: lord of the flies nightmare scenario where kids murder each other just to get the chance to get to grow up and murder other aliens instead KARKAT: IT WASN’T THAT BAD." Karkat. Karkat that isn't a valid rebuke.

"KARKAT: YOU MADE THAT LAST ONE UP. KARKAT: ALSO, IT WAS DISGUSTING?? KARKAT: GROW THE FUCK UP, YOU UTTERLY CONTEMPTIBLE, POTTY MOUTHED *CUNT*." ... The irony is stark.

"JADE: also you know trolls dont actually have two dicks dave thats an offensive stereotype" Are we really doing troll anatomy? Well, I guess it's good to know that the fan theory about Sollux at least isn't applicable to the entire species.

"DAVE: trolls: literally ate babies KARKAT: ONLY THE DEFECTIVE ONES. DAVE: like you my dude KARKAT: ...YEAH. DAVE: so thats why our campaign can work" Yeah, Karkat ate grubs, though they weren't troll babies. Also, yeah, Karkat was a mutant, but I wonder if that would really help his case here.

"DAVE: btw im gonna be giving a long form exam at the end of this to make sure youre retaining info because this is only like the most important thing weve ever done collectively" Well he ain't wrong.

"KARKAT: ARE YOU ASKING ME WHETHER I’VE HEARD THIS EXACT SPEECH ALMOST WORD FOR WORD, INCLUDING REHEARSED VERSIONS OF BOTH THE COLORFUL METAPHORS AND “JOKES,” TEN OR TWENTY TIMES ALREADY? KARKAT: BECAUSE THE ANSWER WOULD BE KARKAT: YES, OF COURSE I FUCKING HAVE." Poor, poor Karkat.

"Karkat elbows Dave in the thigh, a move that is obviously meant to be an action of pure, brotherly jest. But instead it comes off as affectionate and overly intimate. Jade’s clever eyes don’t miss this. Her pupils follow the motion of Karkat’s arm, and then they follow the movement of Dave’s mouth as he smiles in what he probably thinks is a totally neutral expression that reveals exactly 0% of his true feelings toward Karkat Vantas. In reality, his veneer is as thin and transparent as cellophane. He is the only person who can’t see through it.

Jade does some calculations in her head. Two kinds of calculations, in fact: mathematical ones and personal ones." So, is Jade reading too much into their relationship, or are the dudes just... Both too shy?

"JADE: soooooo JADE: do you want a projection of her first years hit on the economy down to the decimal with a 0.3% margin of error JADE: because thats a thing i can do if itll make you stop talking about this stupid election for ten minutes" I didn't know that were First Guardian powers! :p I suppose it might be her natural intellect though, but we've only known her as the hands-on science type until now.

"She proceeds to dazzle the two boys with explications on complex math utilizing taxation rates, GDP figures, and some damned thing called the “Laffer curve,”" Dang, Jade is as much committed to this as Dave! (Or maybe she learned all this because it means so much to him, that could be it too!)

"The thing about Jade Harley is that she’s not as good at personal things as she is at other things. Like science, or mastering fraymotifs, or kissing, the last of which she has definitely put a lot of levels into over the past few years because, well, what else are you supposed to do with immortal godhood once you hit the age where the dog hormones start kicking into overdrive?" Guess for dogs, kissing isn't that personal. :p And well, I guess Jade's only now learning the real consequences of turning into a real-life furry. At least she won't have had lack of candidates to practice kissing with. She might even have become the Witch of Spacing Out Young Adults.

"Her high-prescription lenses make her eyes look anime-huge. They might literally be glittering, she’s so completely serious about the issue she is trying to stress." And the fan artists rejoiced for all the new descriptions they have to work with!

" JADE: im about to lay out some cold hard evidence so pay attention! KARKAT: OH, HANG ON, LET ME GET A PEN." You can't live together with Dave for years without learning when it's time to start taking notes and grab a fucking pen.

"JADE: evidence about..... JADE: our relationship! KARKAT: FUCK" Pfff, okay, never mind. I think Jade might have hit a wall several times over before, trying to either define their relationship or take it to the next level. These dudes are really sensitive about their feelings, after all.

But it would be interesting, learning Jade wants to know where they stand just as much as the outside world does.

"JADE: you let me live in your hive when im in town KARKAT: I CAN’T BELIEVE... JADE: im preeeetty intimately entwined in both your lives KARKAT: THAT YOU’RE JUST TALKING ABOUT THIS? JADE: AND you dont disengage from about 86.234% of my flirtations KARKAT: WAIT, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU KEEP TRACK OF SOMETHING LIKE THAT? JADE: so....... are we doing this or not?" So, just like with taking on Lord English and acknowledging the lit fuse that is Earth C society, I guess the coming around of April 13th 2019 is when Jade had enough of all this silly business and wants to know what's what. (Also, I suppose the level of intimacy they shared on beforehand will be left to speculation.)

"KARKAT: DOING WHAT?! JADE: dating dummy!!!!!!!! KARKAT: OH. KARKAT: THAT IS KARKAT: THAT IS... A COMPLICATED TOPIC IN MY CULTURE THAT I’M NOT SURE HUMANS ARE EQUIPPED TO TALK ABOUT." Smooth, Karkat, real smooth. Maybe Karkat fears commitment will lead to some of their relationships shifting into other quadrants. And he wouldn't like to be moirails or auspistices with either of them.

"DAVE: also totally unrelated to the economy" ... Nice try Dave, but I think this can't be steered back into that track.

"DAVE: which not gonna lie is the only thing i want to talk about for uh DAVE: for however long it takes for this other conversation to stop happening JADE: so say no!!! DAVE: well KARKAT: UHHHHH JADE: im not just forcing this conversation for my sake! its for you two as well JADE: i mean after all this time have you two even kissed yet?????? DAVE: wha" I think Dave and Karkat might actually have been both content to stay uncommitted and fearful to put a label on it. Also Jade's question will presumably remain unanswered, it's already surprising it's confirmed she hasn't seen them kissing. And that is ignoring the matter of whether either Dave or Karkat kissed Jade before. I guess it's only fortunate for this situation that this instance of Jade never dated Davesprite, it would only complicate things further.

"DAVE: wha KARKAT: WH-WHY WOULD DAVE: uhh KARKAT: WHY WOULD WE KISS?? DAVE: thats KARKAT: THAT’S... YOU... I MEAN, HE’S... HE’S DAVE. DAVE: we KARKAT: AND I’M KARKAT." PFffffffff, hilarious! I can just see them blushing like tomatoes right now. Can't keep staying in denial bros!

"JADE: yes hes dave and youre karkat and everyone we know always calls you that JADE: “dave and karkat”" Hah! Yeah, but they also think you're part of the item, Jade. Care to shed some thoughts on the subject?

"JADE: i cant remember the last time i heard anyone mention one of you without the other JADE: the two of you have basically been together since your days on the meteor its SO obvious" Jade has turned this from a personal matter into a fandom matter. "Everyone and their dog knows you're dating, guys! Stop pretending otherwise!" It's interesting to note the different ways Dave has been seen handling relationships. When he dated Terezi in the GO timeline, it went south due her troubles in the black quadrant. When Davesprite dated Jade, it went south due to unresolved Dave issues, presumably having to do with his bros. With Karkat, Dave's been in a stable-ish thing for the longest time, though.

" KARKAT: VERY CLOSE FRIENDS WHO UNDERSTAND AND SUPPORT EACH OTHER ON A DEEP AND EMPATHETIC LEVEL THAT GOES BEYOND HATE OR PITY. YOU COULD EVEN SAY THAT OUR RELATIONSHIP... KARKAT: ...TRANSCENDS QUADRANTS." ... PFfffffff, so this could have been what it was like for the Sufferer and the Disciple, then! They were just never ready to commit? That would actually be funnier than it being this deep and fulfilling relationship. It would also make Doc Scratch' misgivings on the relationship even more hilarious.

"JADE: yeaaaaaah not gonna lie karkat but that sounds totally kinda gay KARKAT: UGH YOU HUMANS AND YOUR UNFATHOMABLE GENDER BASED QUADRANTS." ... Heh. Actually. Too trolls, the whole gender-based romance thing we have going must indeed be as unfathomable as leprechaun romance.

"Jade faceplams." Well that's a new verb. ;) What part of the body is the 'plam', exactly?

" KARKAT: ANYWAY WEREN’T YOU... DATING THAT CARAPACIAN COUPLE? LAST TIME WE CHECKED?" Lolwut. Jade. Jade are you... are you being a Ms. Casanova, a paramour or two in every city you frequent? If WV and PM turn out to be alive for the sole purpose of dating Jade, I'll choke on my drink.

" DAVE: wait you saying we arent fun JADE: whens the last time either of you left the house??????" I know Jade means it as in, she'd like to date them for keeps. But I also fulheartedly believe Dave and Karkat can sustain themselves on delivery pizza and chinese chow.

"In her other hand, she tries to grab Dave’s wrist, but he flash-steps to the other side of the couch." Well that's a new use of the power, guess Dave must really have felt alarmed. :p

"JADE: i wanna try dating for real KARKAT: HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED KARKAT: SORRY IF WHAT I’M ABOUT TO SAY TOTALLY BLOWS YOUR MIND KARKAT: DATING A SINGLE PERSON, FOR MORE THAN HALF A SWEEP, FOR REASONS OTHER THAN INITIATING THE CONCUPISCENT EXCHANGE OF FLUIDS?" Karkat is trying to throw the issue back into Jade's face by saying she should try dating for a longer period of time. But that's exactly what she's trying to do here! She knows who she wants that with! That poor little troll, he's not getting out from under this.

"JADE: third of all karkat arent you from a culture where people are expected to engage in romantic relationships with up to like five people at a time?? KARKAT: THAT’S NOT KARKAT: THAT’S NOT THE SAME THING AT ALL." If he's trying to avoid getting dragged into quadrants with people, he should stop upholding the validity of the quadrants to hold people off. :p

"DAVE: ok jade i think theres a flaw in your approach here cause you seem to think winning an argument on super clever logical grounds is gonna get a couple dudes to break down and fling themselves at you in like, a sexual way JADE: wellll it usually does ;B DAVE: oh my fucking god" So she swoons people by way of her big brain. Jade's got CLASS.

"This earns Dave a look. A long, sad one that has Jade messing with her glasses again so that she can peer right at him and apply some more of that faulty personal math to his facial expression." Just confirmation here that Jade isn't necessarily correct in all her assessments due to not being objective.

"JADE: dave are you in love with obama? DAVE: jade jesus where do you get this shit from JADE: is it about jesus then??????" Aaaaaand this has been derailed again.

"DAVE: no! DAVE: jesus wasnt even real JADE: i know he wasnt real! JADE: wait... JADE: are you saying JADE: obama was real? DAVE: ... DAVE: yes" Wut. Wai- I- Jade. Honey. Please. Guess for all her involvement in politics since, those isolated years on the island sheltered her WAY too much.

"DAVE: obama was real DAVE: he was the president KARKAT: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA JADE: all this time i thought obama was like JADE: an aspirational fictional character that you modeled your life after KARKAT: AHAHAHAHA I CAN’T AHAHA BREATHE... JADE: like snoop dog or nicolas cage" ... Jade. Jade no. You're just making this worse on yourself. For Jade, there would have been almost nothing in Homestuck she'd have seen as a reference to 'real life', would there?

"senary numeral systems that allow me to do complex equations in my head" ... Why is Base 6 good for complex equations? I'm probably not good enough at math to know.

"KARKAT: WHY IS IT LIKE SOME SORT OF *TRAGEDY* HOW SHE WAS RAISED? KARKAT: BECAUSE SHE WAS RAISED ALONE BY AN ANIMAL?? KARKAT: *I* WAS RAISED ALONE BY AN ANIMAL!" There! It's getting acknowledged again, how Jade's upbringing more resembles a troll than a human's! Becquerel the lusus.

"There’s a ripple in the room that makes it clear their god tier powers have just clashed against each other. He shifts his arm through time and Jade warps the space around them so that she’s the one holding the tablet. This is not the first time that they have rearranged the fabric of reality for a petty reason like this. Karkat has permanently sworn off playing board games with them." ... Lol. First real use of the god tier powers in Earth C, and it goes like this! Wait, couldn't Jade have snapped... Right, no, she actually wouldn't have First Guardian powers anymore now, I forgot. Still, what did Dave try to do, move the tablet to another point in the timeline?

"The moment Jade brings the paint program up on the television, Karkat stops laughing. KARKAT: NO!" Oh boy. Time for the Penis Quadrant scene, this time with three people. ... This would actually fall under both definitions of a "sketch", actually.

"He tries to grab the tablet from her, but she’s hovering well above the ground and he simply is not tall enough to reach. With a shit-eating grin and deliberate care, Jade begins to draw a grid." He's going to jump up to grab her leg, to disturb the drawing, isn't he?

"She gives Karkat a pair of fuzzy, angry eyebrows" Now I'm starting to think of the Karkat expressions in that one Paradox Space.

"all he accomplishes is turning the redrom trajectory between her and Dave into a redrom loop-de-loop." This is all I could want from a reprise of this scene.

"JADE: see me and karkat have great black chemistry! KARKAT: IT IS NOT BLACK CHEMISTRY YOU HORRID NON-CHITINOUS WINDBAG!" A+ denial there, Karkat, props on the response.

"JADE: and now that daves all chill hed make a great auspistice" Jade just wants all Karkat's quadrants filled by the three of them, somehow.

"JADE: because you and karkat are kind of like moirails DAVE: no JADE: and you and i JADE: well yknow its always been pretty flirty DAVE: jade JADE: EXCEPT!

Jade finishes drawing a shaky heart directly into the paint program. It’s so big and bright on the TV that it fills the entire room with red light." She's putting all these names and symbols to the relationship, it might just be too much for these poor boys to handle. :p

"JADE: i call this political arrangement: JADE: fully automated luxury polyamorous space-time communism!!!!!!!" That is not the shipping name I would've chosen, but it's the shipping name we deserve. And hey, communism! Get it? Cause Karkat had a sickle.

I wonder what Karkat's take on polyamory outside of the ashen quadrant is, actually.

"Jade rolls her eyes and tosses both the tablet and pen over her shoulder. Dave flashes across the living room to catch his very expensive computing device in both arms. The pen bounces off his forehead." This. Entire. Scene.

"JADE: i have to go talk to roxy and callie about the election anyway" Well, she's going to let them stew on this for a while. But I'm eager to find out who Roxy & Calliope would back. You might think Jane's a given, but if she's been busy maybe they have grown closer to Jade & Dave!

"Jade clicks her heels together to propel herself back into the air and actually winks at them before absconding through an open window." Think happy thoughts! Also, I just realized becoming a god sadly never gave Karkat the powers of flight.

"Dave and Karkat both stare after her, silently caught in their own private rationalization spirals.

Karkat needs to verbalize part of his out loud." Ah, but can they stay in that spiral or will they have no choice but to break out of it?

"KARKAT: WANNA PLAY SOME TROLL TONY HAWK? DAVE: hell DAVE: yeah" Yyyyyeaah, they are not going to have changed when Jade comes back, will they?

So even Karkat calls it "Troll Tony Hawk", not whatever absurdly wrong name it'd have on Alternia, and not whatever Tony Hawk's duodecimal name in Alternian would be. :P

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #upd8 #reaction #spoiler alert #jade harley #karkat vantas #dave strider #homestuck liveblog

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blaperile · 6 years ago

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Homestuck Epilogues - Meat - Page 5

#Homestuck #The Homestuck Epilogues #Meat #reaction #Dave #Dirk #Jake

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hellocupcakeitsme · 4 years ago

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An Unexpected Journey

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So for the last almost 7 months I have been walking more and more and finding it rather enjoyable. I've never been one for hiking or anything like that. I've liked the idea of it, but putting that into the physical act of actually doing so has always been something completely different.

Just recently, I walked 13.5 miles (21.73k) from my town to the next. Now according to the trail signs, the distance is only 7.3 miles (11.75k). But Im not sure if that "as the crow flies" (meaning a straight line) or if that is how far it actually is. But 3 different apps that I have on my phone said that it was 13.5 miles. Which trust me, either way, my feet and back were killing me. It was such an emotional and almost spiritual adventure. I have NO EXCUSE for why I did it. It quite literally just happened. The day that I went walking, I had it in my mind that I was going to walk to the 6 mile marker. Where I park my car and start walking is about 1/4 of a mile (0.042k) from the 7 mile post marker. So I have always done the trail just past the 6.5 trail marker. But that day like I said I wanted to see where Mile 6 post was. And it was on a part of the trail that I had never done before, so if anything, curiosity got the better of me.

So, when I came up on the 6 mile marker, I decided to "go a little further" to see where that part of the trial went. When I came to the bottom of a steep hill and saw a ranch style fence, I thought "ok i'll just walk up to that fence and turn around." Had I done that, my round trip would have been just under 4 miles at that point, because I had walked over 1.5 miles. But when I got to the top of that hill and caught my breath, I noticed that the trail was flat for as far as I could see. So I thought, "ok I wonder where 5.5 miles is." A few weeks prior to all of this, I picked up the trail from a different access point and walked from the 4 mile marker to the 5 mile marker. I called a girlfriend of mine and asked her if she would come pick me up if I kept walking because I knew I probably wouldn't have the strength nor the stamina to make the return trip to my car. And that I was going to keep walking until I couldn't go any further. So she agreed and so I continued my journey.

When I got to the 5.5 mile marker (8.85k) I realized that I had seen it before, and realized where I was from having walked it a few weeks prior. So that gave me a renewed sense of energy "knowing" that the next trail access was only a mile or so up from where I was. This is when things started getting a bit spiritual for me. As I was walking, and there really wasn't anyone else on the trail, save for a biker or someone running by every now and then, but for the majority of the time, I was all by myself.

So I started talking to god/goddess/spirit/higher power/the universe/etc and asking for the ability to complete my task of walking further than I have. Now mind you, this is when the wildfires in California, Oregon, and Washington were really bad. The air quality was 289 (which is really really REALLY bad). And because I didn't plan on doing that large of a walk, I had NO previsions with me. Thankfully this time of year all of the Blackberries are in season and so are the wild apple trees. So every so often I would stop at a blackberry patch and grab a few handfuls and mush it around in my mouth. Not only for the sweet sugary taste, but for the juice to help with my thirst. So about 2 miles from where I started eating the blackberries, I met a wonderful lady who was mucking out her horse stalls. I stopped and spoke with her for a few moments, she offered to go get me some water, but her house was about 8 acres from where she was, and I honestly didn't want to stand around and wait for her. So I thanked her and kept on going. I then came to a green apple tree. I thought that it might be crab apples, which are very tart and kind of "woody" and not very juicy. I knocked one off the tree, because at this point I was starving because I didn't eat anything before going on my walk, because having to use the restroom on the trail isn't that fun, and I didnt have any toilet paper with me, so I didn't want to eat and have to deficate on the trail. But that apple was a wild Granny Smith. It was the most delicious apple I had ever eaten (at least right then while i was a bit dehydrated and hungry) that I actually turned around and got 5 more for the trip ahead.

By this time I was at the 4.5 mile marker letting me know that I was almost to the trail access that I was going to have my friend pick me up at. But I started thinking "its really not that much further into town." So I kept going. By this time im an emotional wreck, and everything is making me want to cry. I had begun "unpacking" emotions and situations that had happened and just really doing some mental and emotional cleaning and soul searching. My feet were in pain, my lower back was numb from the pain. But I just kept telling myself to keep going. Honestly I have no fixed memory of what I was thinking about at the time. What feelings I was having. Nothing. It would come in waves, I would think about it and play scenarios out in my head and then move on to the next thought. They kept coming like waves, and it seemed like everytime I would come up for a breath I would get hit with another one.

After I got past the 4 mile marker and saw the 3.5 marker I was completely lost. So everything at that point was new. Which brought on its own set of emotional tidal waves. I started talking to myself and the universe or whatever spirit or god wanted to hear me and listen to the ramblings of a fat man walking in the woods. At one point I came to a large tunnel that ran under a road that I had driven over many times before, but did not realize that there was a trail that went under it. And there was a breeze that was passing through it that made it feel like an air conditioner, which took my breath away because I was really hot. I just stood there for a moment, and cooled down.

Then walking through it, I noticed all the graffiti that was on the walls and had thought about my friends from California who are street artists and how they would have loved that tunnel and would have used it as one big canvas for something im sure that would have been worthy of an art gallery.

Just on the other side of this tunnel was a long stretch of forest trail that had the most lush and prehistoric looking Sword Ferns that I have ever seen. These have quickly become one of my favorite forest plants that I have come across. So as I was marveling at the natural beauty around me, and coming to an open field, something walked out onto the road and caught my eye. At first I thought that it was a small dog or a racoon or something like that, but it was an orange tom cat. As I approached it I thought that someone may have abandoned it out there. But as the trees began thinning and I got closer to the clearing, I could see that there were houses on either side of me, and that this little guy had a collar on, and a well worn trail where he had walked many times before. But trust me, I was more than ready to scoop him up and bring him home with me, even though Bella probably would have killed both him and I.

When I had walked about 1500 yards, I could see the highway into town. This of course brought tears to my eyes, realizing how close I was to the end of the trail, and thinking about how many times I had driven that stretch of road and never knew that there was all of this beauty and semi hidden trail. Walking under the freeway and realizing that I had less than 2.5 miles to go before I was at the end of my journey, I began getting really giddy. More street art adorned the overpass.

When I came to the 2 mile marker of the trail, I almost lost it. Years prior, when I had first moved to Washington, I had walked to the 2 mile marker from the end of the trail, and realized that it was literally all downhill from there, but in the best possible way. My thoughts and emotions were all over the place. When I came to the 1 mile marker. I started crying uncontrollably. I started talking to my dad, my grandma, and grandpa, telling them how proud they would be of me for making it that far, and for having done something like that in the first place. I could see my end goal in sight. I know that section of the trial all to well, as I walk it several times a month. When I got to the 1/2 mile marker I called my friend and told her where to pick me up. There was a part of me that wanted to keep walking. To keep walking past the trails end, all the way to the end of the road where it met the ocean. But I had kept her waiting by her phone all day, and didn't want to make her wait around for me any longer than what she already had.

As I approached the end of the trail, where it meets a parking lot. It felt like my steps were getting heavier and harder to make. Like subconsciously I didn't want it to end. That even though I was in pain, and numb, that I needed to keep going. But the spark of sanity that I had left told me that it was more of an accomplishment than I was giving myself credit for. Stepping off the trail, and walking to where I told my friend I would meet her, was difficult. Time was off for me. I kept having flashbacks to where I was, what I had seen, and to a smaller degree who i was when I started vs who I was when it ended. Yeah it was only a few hours, and several miles of walking. But it really did have that profound of an effect on me. Especially since the week before I was seriously depressed, and had being toying with the idea of just ending it once and for all. But here I was. I had accomplished a goal that I had set for the following summer, and had accomplished it almost 7 months ahead of schedule.

When I saw my friends car pull up, I lost all control I had and began crying. She was more than ecstatic for me, and just as shocked as I was that I had done it. I kept my sobbing under control the best that I could, just letting hot tears streak down my face. My back was in spasms, my feet felt like they were broken. My shins hurt, my calves were cramping. But I had done it. I had made a trip that this time last year would have been impossible.

For days after my walk, I had what I can only describe as PTSD from it. I just kept having flashbacks to parts of the trail. Remembering things that I saw, the scent, the sounds. I have since started watching Trail Vloggers, and watching their journey's. And they all have said the same thing. That when they end a hike, that they get what they call "post trail depression". I have now downloaded several hiking apps, that show all of the trails in my area, and their ratings. And I have also began stockpiling hiking gear. I've been walking with a school backpack with about 7lbs of stuff in it, just to get used to walking with a pack on. My friends husband, gave me one of his old hunting packs and told me that he has some other items that he was going to give me.

I have already planned my next "big" walk. Its just under 14 miles, and another one that I plan on doing next summer too. I would try to do it now, but its fall/winter here in the PNW now and i'm still not that experienced, and still need to build up the strength and stamina to do so. And plus it will give me some more time to get things together for it.

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